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REINA
My system wasshocked cold like someone had thrown me over a cliff straight into freezing waters. It hurt to breathe for a second, and then I remembered how to, taking a deep one before scowling at him.
“I’d rather die than marry you.”
“Nothing wrong with death.” He smiled at me in a way I presumed he thought was comforting, but it looked more chiding, like I was a naïve child who didn’t fully grasp the world's ways.
“Except that it’s permanent.”
“Some things are permanent. Death is not one of them.”
I cast him a doubtful look. “I’m not sure what kind of death you’ve been around …”
He smiled mysteriously before rising, taking a slow step toward me. I stepped away, my calves knocking into the edge of the coffee table, trapping me between him and it. As he stopped in front of me, I wasn’t sure what he would do as flashbacks of the last time he had me cornered went through my mind, and my treacherous body reeled at the idea of his hardness pressed against my soft. His body was pressed tightly to mine as if he possessed it.
But then he surprised me by taking my hand and lacing our fingers together, “come along then.” This time when he touched me, I jerked away in disgust.
“No.” I dug my heels in stubbornly. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your room.” He moved, and I was helpless to go with him as his grip tightened painfully and he dragged me along the hardwood.
“And what happens once I have a room? Do you lock me in it?” I tried to grab the sofa to stop us.
He laughed and shook his head, turning to look at me again. “Do you think that is what happens?”
“I have no idea what’s going to happen to me now. I have no idea who you are. You’ve told me nothing except that you have taken women against their will before and would be willing to do so with me.” I scowled at him. “Oh, and you cut deals for debts to buy women as wives.”
“Lord Santino—” We both turned to face a butler, who stood at attention in the doorway. Santino. Something about his name struck me, not because it was fitting or sexy, but because it felt familiar.
“Not now, Carver.” The servant, because surely this was what he was to “Santino,” bowed his head and backed out, closing the doors on us. I was now locked in this room with a man who wanted me, was intrigued by me, and was more than happy to take what he wanted, whether I wanted him to take it.
“Santino.” I practiced his name, watching him turn to look at me. I dared to describe what played on his face as a smile, one eyebrow arched in question. We stared at each other for a few minutes, my stomach in a tight knot. My instincts were fired up, but I had no idea why.
Something about this mysterious man scared me, intrigued me, worried me, and turned me on. But each conflicting emotion made it harder than ever to carry on my tough-as-nails act. He read me like a see-through book.
“Yes?” Santino broke the silence, amusement hinted at in his tone.
“Why did he call you lord?” I shook myself free from the trance by forcing myself to walk away from him, letting my eyes roam the room instead of his face. It was a diversionary question, something that made me feel like I was back in control. There were other things I wanted to know from him, more important issues than discerning the truth of his title.
“Because I am,” he said, making me roll my eyes.
“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re a mafia son. I get it now. But that doesn’t give you a title, maybe sir or something else out of respect, but lord feels … archaic.”
He followed me with his eyes as I gingerly touched a vase in the Rococo style.
“I am not only a mafia son,” he said, “and to someone like Carter, I am also his lord.”
“Someone like Carter?”
“He owes me a debt. He works for my family to pay it off, but I take care of him, so it’s a fair exchange.”
“You take care of him; how?”
“Food, house, clothes. The essentials.”
“And he’s completely incapable of doing that without you?” I finally turned, knocking the vase over with the movement. With lightning-fast speed, Santino was beside me, catching the vase before it could hit the floor and smash.
“What the hell!” I gasped and backed away from him like he was a devil. I hit the coffee table again, this time unable to stop myself before I sprawled over it in the most ungraceful fashion. Santino moved toward me at the same speed as before. His arm curled around my waist and wrenched me away from the table. My body was suddenly flush against his. Every inch of hard surface was electric against mine. The current zipped through my body straight to my core, and I was overwhelmed with my desire to touch and kiss him.
Lust clouded my mind, but I was still reeling from his unnatural speed and the animalistic quality of his movements. It only confirmed my fears from the alleyway. He wasn’t human.
“What are you?” My voice was tight and choked as I pressed my hands against his chest, forcing him away from me. At least, I tried, but he held fast. He didn’t even budge, no matter how much I pushed. His arms tightened, and it only furthered the fight or flight instinct in me.
“Do you want to know?”
“It’s a little late for ignorance.” My fingers curled against his chest. My nails bit the material of his shirt and scratched his chest. He enjoyed the sensation as he pressed harder into the nails. I jerked back, trying to peel as much of my body off him as I could, despite the tight vice of his arm.
“True, but I don’t think you can handle the truth.”
I scowled, not liking his doubt. “I can handle it.” Straightening, I steeled my posture. I wasn’t going to let him have the control he so desperately craved.
Whatever he was, I could handle it. I would because I had to.
