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‘Be still,gatita,’ he ordered. ‘Or I’ll call the police.’
At the mention of police she struggled harder, producing a knife from somewhere and waving it threateningly at him.
‘Let me go!’ she said, and added something rude to do with a very masculine part of his anatomy.
Definitely feisty, and probably more trouble than she was worth—especially with that knife waving around. She was pretty, but he wasn’t into expending effort on a woman who was resistant when he had plenty of willing ones who weren’t.
Then again, his tastes were...eclectic, and he liked difference. She was certainly that. A bit on the young side, though.
‘No,’ he said calmly. ‘Your customisation of my car I could have ignored. But you have interrupted my evening and scared my friends, and that I simply won’t stand for.’
She ignored him, spitting another curse and slashing at him with her knife.
‘And now we’re dealing with assault,’ Cristiano pointed out, not at all bothered by the knife, since it managed to miss him by miles.
‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘You assaulting me!’
He sighed. He didn’t have a lot of patience for this kind of nonsense and now, since it was late—or early, depending on your point of reference—he wanted to get to bed, and not alone. He really needed to handle this unfortunate situation.
So let her go.
Well, he should. After he’d figured out why she was so familiar, because it was really starting to annoy him now.
Though that was going to be difficult with her still swinging wildly at him with a knife.
Amongst the many skills he’d become proficient in on his quest to fill the gaping emptiness inside him was a certain expertise in a couple of martial arts, so it wasn’t difficult for him to disarm her of her knife and then bundle her into his limo.
He got in after her and shut the door, locking it for good measure so that she was effectively confined.
Instantly she tried to get out, trying to get the doors to open. It wouldn’t work. Only he could open the doors from the inside when they were locked.
He said nothing, watching her as she tried futilely to escape. When it became clear to her that she couldn’t, she turned to him, a mix of fury and fear in her big cornflower-blue eyes.
‘Let me out,’ she demanded, breathless.
Cristiano leaned back in the seat opposite her and shoved his hands into the pockets of his expertly tailored black dress pants. It might have been a stupid move, since it wasn’t clear whether she had another knife on her somewhere, but he was betting she didn’t.
‘No,’ he said, studying her face.
Her jaw went rigid, her small figure stiff with tension. ‘Are you going to rape me?’
He blinked at the stark question, then had a brief internal debate about whether he should be annoyed she’d even had to ask—especially since the latter part of his life had largely been spent in the pursuit of pleasure, both his own and that of any partners he came into contact with.
But in the end it wasn’t worth getting uptight about. If she was indeed on the streets, then not being assaulted was likely to be one of her first concerns. Particularly when she’d been bundled into a car and locked in by a man much larger and stronger than she was.
‘No,’ he said flatly, so there could be no doubt. ‘That sounds like effort, and I try not to make any effort if I can possibly help it.’
She gazed at him suspiciously. ‘Then why did you shut me in this car?’
‘Because you tried to stab me with your knife.’
‘You could have just let me go.’
‘You were graffitiing my car. And it’s an expensive car. It’s going to cost me a lot of money to get it repainted.’
She gave him a look that was at once disdainful and pitying. ‘You can afford it, rich man.’
Unoffended, Cristiano tilted his head, studying her. ‘It’s true. I am rich. And, yes, I can afford to get it repainted. But it’s inconvenient to have to do so. You have inconvenienced me,gatita, and I do so hate to be inconvenienced. So, tell me, what are you going to do about it?’
