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Carla was reeling from just what she’d let herself in for when Javier led them through double glass doors into a large room. The circular seating area contained an inner carpeted area with a raised platform. In the middle of it stood a tall object draped with black silk.
Three executives rose as they entered. All young, all eager to make an impression as they greeted Javier.
‘Mr Santino. It’s good to see you again.’ The closest man shook hands with him.
Javier nodded to the other two, and, without letting go of her hand, walked to the middle of the room. ‘I need to be elsewhere, gentlemen. I’d appreciate us getting on with it?’ The statement was couched as a question, but the order was clear.
‘Of course. The specs are just what you asked for.’ The oldest in the group, clearly their leader, pulled back the silk cloth with a flourish.
What little oxygen remained in Carla’s lungs after glimpsing the raw, predatory hunger in Javier’s eyes evaporated as she stared at the redesigned tequila bottle. Much of the original design had remained the same, but where the neck had been a sleek line tapering to the rounded base, it now flowed in a distinct, unmistakably feminine shape. A shape that grew intimately familiar the more she stared at it.
Blushing to the roots of her hair, she tried to disentangle her fingers from Javier’s. He held on tight, his eyes riveted to the life-size bottle as he rasped, ‘Thank you for your hard work, gentlemen. Now if you’d be so kind as to leave us.’
The moment they were alone, she let out a stunned breath. ‘You can’t!’
He turned sizzling eyes to her. ‘I can’t what, querida?’ he enquired silkily.
She gestured frantically at the bottle. ‘You can’t do...this.’
Circling behind her, he caught her around the waist and frogmarched her to the bottle. ‘You belong to me. Give me one good reason why I cannot immortalise you however I wish to.’
She could think of one. Dio, she could think of several, the paramount of them being she only belonged to him on a temporary basis. None of what was happening between them would last beyond the next few weeks. But all her objections—and the peculiar pang that lanced her heart—vanished as she stared at the stunningly beautiful bottle.
His hands slipped from her waist, down to capture her hands. Linking her fingers with his, he brought them up to the neck of the bottle to grip the glass. Cool and smooth, the glass quickly warmed beneath her fingers. Or perhaps it was her imagination, and her fevered hormones alone were responsible for heating the bottle. He drew their hands down to rest on the upper curve, his head aligned with hers. She didn’t need to turn her head to know he was staring at their joined hands on his creation.
‘Now every time I touch this piece, I’ll think of you,’ he murmured in her ear.
Carla gave a single shake of her head, unable to comprehend the enormity of his testament. He might no longer hate her as much as she’d imagined he once did, but this...
She swallowed. ‘Javier...’
‘I wish I’d had this brought to the house. Now I need to get myself under control before we can leave.’
Another blush fired up her cheeks as she caught his meaning. She groaned as he pulled her back against him, the rigid line of his manhood searing into her behind for one charged moment before he set her free.
When she stumbled a few steps away, he didn’t stop her. His gaze was once more
on the bottle, his scrutiny blessedly clinical as he examined it fully. After a few minutes, he nodded with satisfaction and walked towards her.
The designers hovered outside and Javier invited them back in. Questions were fired out in rapid succession, most of which flew over her head as her gaze continually strayed to the bottle.
You belong to me...
The unyielding possession in those words should’ve frightened her, made her want to strike out for the independence she was desperately seeking in her life. But they reached into the heart of her, claiming a hitherto unknown part of her she hadn’t realised was waiting for such a claiming. A claiming she was ready—
‘Carla?’
She jumped. ‘Yes?’
Javier smiled with the barest touch of mockery. ‘It’s time to go,’ he intoned.
She blinked and realised the executives had left. Rising and casting one last glance at the bottle, she slipped a hand into the one he held out.
Javier led her out into the early afternoon sunshine. Thinking they were about to drive somewhere else, she followed him when he led her across the street and into the park.
‘What are we doing here?’
‘We’re having lunch.’
