Page 39 of Ruthless Savior


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My heart twisted. I yearned to believe him so badly. To be truly safe after living in a constant state terror for so long…

My stomach rumbled, capturing my attention. I needed to eat. I needed to keep meeting my most basic needs, so I could get my head on straight and fortify my strength.

Maybe Raúl was right about my trauma messing with my mind, driving my reckless impulses through force of habit.

He’s a drug lord. He murders people without blinking. He’s dangerous.

I shook my head, throwing off my worries for the moment. Clearly, Raúl wasn’t going to give me an opportunity to run anytime soon, and earning myself another punishment would only allow him another opportunity to devastate me with ruthless pleasure. I’d been living from day to day ever since I’d fled from my home. I could continue doing that, especially when I didn’t have to constantly stay on my guard to protect myself from unknown, lecherous men.

I turned the doorknob with a definitive click and stepped out of the bedroom. As I made my way into the austere lounge, Raúl’s muttered curses drifted from the kitchen.

A smile tugged at my lips when I recalled his frustrations over preparing our abysmal breakfast this morning. Judging by the view of the setting sun through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the lounge, it’d been far too long since that meal.

Raúl and I must’ve spent a long time in the woods.

My cheeks flamed, but I continued my progress to the kitchen. It would be best if I was there to supervise, if not eliminate him from the cooking process entirely. I’d have to test if his macho fixation on providing would yield to gentle offers to help prepare the meal.

I definitely wasn’t ready for round two with that hot sauce.

“Can I do anything to help?”

Misjudging his strength, Raúl smashed the egg on the side of the bowl, and he cursed as the gooey liquid coated his hand and oozed onto the counter.

He shot me a rueful smile. “Not eager for a repeat of breakfast?”

I met him with a wide, genuine smile of my own. The beast who’d claimed me in the jungle had set my body on fire, but this surprisingly human side of my stony captor fascinated me.

“I thought maybe we could cook together,” I said diplomatically.

He chuckled and went to the sink to wash his hands. “If you want to cook, please go ahead. Save us both from my burned eggs and hot sauce. Other than sandwiches, it’s pretty much all I know how to make.”

My brows lifted, and I found a cloth to wipe down the eggy mess on the counter. “I’m not sure if I would exactly call that a meal.” I eyed his bulky, muscular form. “Surely, you don’t usually eat like this.”

He straightened, growing a bit taller at my inspection of his impressive physique. “No, I have a personal chef. He comes in a few times a week to do meal prep for me, but I’ve given him some time off.”

I offered an approving smile. “That’s nice of you to offer him vacation time.”

He shook his head, but his tone remained light. “It’s not vacation time. I don’t want him seeing you here. Until I know things have cooled off with Stefano and Carmen, I’m not letting anyone step foot in this house. I won’t risk anyone snitching on me.” He shot me a sharp glance, warning me not to bring up the topic of leaving again. “Believe me, things would get very messy if Carmen found out you’re here with me. No one wants that to happen.”

I dropped my gaze and managed a wooden nod. There was nothing to say.

The matter is no longer open for discussion. His edict rang clear in my mind, and my tender flesh that’d endured his spanking tingled in reminder of what would happen if I defied him.

“Come take a look in the fridge,” he prompted. “I got some fresh ingredients delivered this morning, even if I don’t really know what to do with them.”

Compliantly, I joined him at the fridge and made a quick assessment of the contents. There wasn’t a lot for me to work with, but I could make do.

“Do you have any bell peppers in your garden?” I asked. “And maybe one jalapeno. One, and nothing hotter.”

He chuckled. “I think I can do that.”

I speared him with a stern stare. “You have to try at least three bites of my fajitas before you drown them in your hot sauce.”

“Of course,” he agreed easily. “I’ll be right back with your order.”

My brain stalled out when he dropped a quick kiss on my forehead before strolling away from me, heading to his garden to get the peppers I’d requested.

He’d already stepped outside by the time I managed to move. Lifting my hand as though in a daze, I touched my fingers to the tingling spot where his lips had brushed my skin. The gesture had been so casual. It was as though we were a couple, and he was accustomed to showering me with affection, even for the most banal tasks.

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