Page 68 of No Darker Temptation

“I’ve been watching you make your way through the market for the last twenty minutes. Haven’t you noticed?”

Ah…I see what this is. A creepy attempt at flirtation with a woman very obviously out of his league.

“I’m not interested. I have a boyfriend.”

“Lo sé.” He reaches out with his gloved hand and catches a wisp of red hair between his fingers. “La mujer de Alejandro Narvaez. I’m surprised he let you out of your tower.”

At the mention of Alejandro, ice-cold awareness rushes through me. Fear I haven’t felt since the night the Wesleys took me from El Rey fills my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. As if he can smell it, the man smiles, the expression not unpleasant on his elegant face but made vicious by the merciless depth of his eyes. They’re dark, empty. Terrifying to meet head on.

This time when I try to walk pass him, he sucks his teeth and grips me by the upper arm. His strength is surprising and he yanks me around to the back of the booth with the ease of flinging a rag doll. When we’re out of sight from the crowd, he pushes me against one of the empty booths, wedged between the corner and a support beam.

“Let go of me,” I seethe through gritted teeth, hoping he can’t hear the tremor in my voice.

“No te pongas así, preciosa.” Lifting his gloved hand, he drags it up the length of my arm and over the slope of my shoulder before gripping the back of my neck. “Seeing as how we haven’t been properly introduced, I thought it was time we made each other’s acquaintance.”

“If you don’t let me go I’ll scream.”

“I’ll have crushed your windpipe before you’re able to make a sound.” He presses his thumb against the base of my throat to prove his point. The touch is painful and bruising. “I’m going to presume my cousin got the message? Apologies for the inopportune timing—had I known it was your birthday, I’d have let Manuel live a day longer.”

Unsure of whether or not I should answer, I decide against antagonizing him further and give a firm nod. His smile broadens, baring all his sharp, white teeth.

“Good.” His gaze sweeps over my face and body the way it hadn’t before. He tsks, shaking his head. “No wonder my cousin’s slipping. I can only imagine how much being buried inches deep in a cunt like yours can fuck with a man’s head. Happens to the best of us.”

My stomach turns with disgust and I struggle to release myself from his grasp. “Sandro, go fuck yourself.”

He releases a delighted laugh. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“Alejandro made it very clear if I ever encountered a shit-faced heathen who could meet me at eye level without heels on, it’d be you. And look. He was right.” I grab his arm and push him away. “Now let me go.”

He moves faster than my eyes can track, arm moving under his blazer at a speed that sends my head spinning. My head hits the post behind me with enough force to make my vision swim. Cool metal kisses my temple and suddenly I no longer have the upper hand. Sandro towers over me, finger dancing over the trigger of his gun like a lover’s caress.

“Feisty too.” His mouth hovers over mine and I seal my lips together, pulling away from him as much as I can. He inhales my scent in deep, selfish breaths like a dying man brought to water. When he finally meets my gaze that ferocity transforms into menacing delight. “You must drive my cousin to the brink of madness.”

Sandro steps forward, obliterating every inch of space between us. I’m afraid to blink lest he feel the flutter of my lashes against his pale cheeks. I want to scream from the top of my lungs but we’re hidden behind this massive booth and I’m folded into this corner against the post. Yet, he hasn’t removed his gun from my temple and I watch him remove the safety. My heart leaps into my throat.

His gloved hand drops to his side and I’m almost relieved he’s released his hold from the back of my neck. Except his hand wanders to a place far more dangerous, skirting up my thigh and under the hem of my dress.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to see what all the fuss is about.”

Instinctively, I grab his wrist and attempt to push him away. “Don’t⁠—”

Sandro presses the gun against my temple once more but his expression never changes. There isn’t an ounce of lust in his eyes or voice. He’s doing this because it’s the one thing that can break any woman. Well, I won’t give him the satisfaction. The only way to get out of this is to play the part of formidable family matriarch and abandon innocent college girl at the doorstep.

Mustering every ounce of valor and false bravado in my body, I let the protective mask fall into place.

“Go ahead and try. I doubt I’d even feel it.”

He laughs, a rich and hearty sound. “Is that so?”

“Yes. And because I don’t want your death on my conscience, I won’t tell Alejandro about our encounter this afternoon.” This time when I dig my nails into his wrist and tug, he finally pulls away. “If you ever lay a hand on me again⁠—”

“Keep your empty threats to yourself. Yo no le tengo miedo a mi primo,” he hisses.

I grab hold of the hand with the gun pressed against my temple and sink my nails into the flesh of his wrists, pulling him away. “No but you should be afraid of me. I am not some useless, mindless girl Alejandro keeps as decoration on a shelf. I bite back. So the next time you aim a gun at me you better pull the trigger and not miss. Because by the time I finish with you, you’re going to wish it had been Alejandro instead.”

Trembling and struggling to catch my breath, I never break his gaze. Sandro watches me steadily, eyes deepening to a shade of black I cannot believe is natural, before whispering, “Hazme un favor, preciosa, and tell my cousin that before going after one of my capos, he should remember his girlfriend wanders around El Raval without a security detail.”

El Raval…?