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“Sweet talker, asshole.”
“You bet. That’s me. You know, this is why you should be staying at the house here, or at the fucking apartment you insist on having. That’s closer, easier for us, harder for goons.”
“I’m not letting anyone control me.”
“Yeah? Looked at your life lately?” He mutters something else. “And what if we were going to your isolated come and murder me style country estate, sweetness? That’s an hour away. Lonely fuckin’ roads. I should pull over and spank the living daylights out of you.”
“Try it, and I’ll shoot you.”
“You don’t have your gun, and even if you did, I’d have it off you so fast your pretty head will spin.”
My chest tightens, and I sit up.
“Mia, get down.”
“Bite me.”
“Bite you?” he says, anger snapping through his tone. “Is that an invitation? Because I have to say, I’ve every intention of biting you and more.”
We’re at the estate for a dinner I most definitely do not want. The gates open, and Christian drives in.
When he pulls up, he turns and grabs my face and kisses me hard. I can’t stop myself from falling into him and kissing him back. It’s violent, a meeting of tongues and wills and passion. Of darkness, need, anger, and relief.
He releases me but pulls back only a bit. “You test the living daylights out of me, sweetness. I’m going to have you again. And I’m going to make sure you know who you serve.”
“Serve? I don’t serve anyone, you bastard, and least of all you.”
He traces my kiss-swollen lips with his fingers. “We’re going to have a lot of fun fighting this out, Mia.”
“No one’s fighting anything. I’m not yours, I don’t serve anyone, and this is lasting until Frank’s gone. Got it?”
“I hear words.” He kisses me again. “But you and me? This goes on beyond the reasons that brought me here.”
“Annoyance.”
His grin is swift, but it doesn’t come anywhere near reaching his eyes. “Protection, sweetness. Now, move.”
We get out of the car, and I grip the top of the door as my feet nearly give away. Thank goodness he’s too preoccupied to notice.
Christian walks around his car, muttering in disgust. He stops near me and shakes his head. “Motherfuckers. This car. I love this fucking car.”
“You’ll survive.” I go to take a step, but his hands stop me. “Let go. I want this night over and done with.”
“Don’t tell me what to fucking do, Mia.” His hand slides about my upper arm as he slams the door shut and pulls me toward the door. “And don’t think I didn’t see that. You know? The little wobble thing you did. This shit affects you more than you let on. You’re so strong you refuse to admit you can take bending a little, accepting help. It doesn’t make you weak. It shows your other strengths, and that you’re capable of asking for help.”
“Don’t lecture me.” I pull my arm free and stomp up to the door, pressing the buzzer.
Christian is right there, not letting me go more than a few inches away from him.
I press the buzzer again.
“I have keys.”
“I’m making a point.”
“That you don’t listen to a fucking word I say?” Christian asks.
It’s then my brother opens the door, face stony. Behind him is my father, who looks like he’s ready to unleash a thunderstorm on the world.
