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I’d never understood why when I was younger. The tragedy of their deaths had brought the reality of this dark work to the forefront. Why was I thinking about the past? I moved toward my desk, tapping the space bar on my computer then pulling the signed contracts into my hands. As I shifted from one to another, I realized both my bank account and Talon should be extremely happy with the proceeds so far. In truth, I was still shocked so many of the more risqué pieces had sold.
Before sitting down, I flicked on my desk lamp, turning to glance at the piece Cruz had painted. I still couldn’t get used to thinking about him and using his real name.
As I thought about him, I walked closer, studying the brushstrokes he’d used, noting the almost manic way in which he’d painted it. Even if he’d taken a full night, the vision he’d used must have been in his mind prior to starting the creation. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached toward the painting, very carefully tracing the masked man’s features.
I allowed myself to become lost in the darkness he’d depicted, fixating on the sweet sense of agony in the woman’s expression. What I found fascinating was the way he’d managed to accentuate the woman’s eyes. There was a depth of emotion in them, his brilliant technique allowing for a full 3-D experience. I could almost hear her cries as he lashed the strap against her reddened bottom.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes, trying to block out the overtly sexual vision.
Until I felt a presence behind me.
He didn’t need to touch me in order for every cell in my body to tingle from heat, igniting a fire that I sensed would never burn out completely. He remained quiet, observant, allowing him to ascertain friend from foe from afar. I was guessing of course, having no knowledge of him but beyond that he was an extraordinary kisser and that his voice held an audience long after he left a room.
But I’d already sensed there was much more to him, a hidden agenda that he’d only allow me to learn if I was a very good girl. Why did I think that way? I couldn’t seem to stop shuddering, uncertain what to say. As he inched closer, the crackle of our combined jolts of electric current were strong than they’d been the night before.
The only way for that to be possible was because we’d been intimate. One of the few things my mother had told me before her life was taken was that once I had sex with a man, there was no regaining what we’d been before. Friends. Enemies. It didn’t matter. She’d warned me to be careful in choosing the men I allowed into my bed. Until now, I’d never thought much about her words of wisdom.
“Have you envisioned the moment, sweet goddess?” he asked, his tone sultrier than the night before, but there was also a different inflection in his tone. I wouldn’t say it was cold, more as if he’d taken full control of the situation. Whatever the case, the deep baritone sent several vibrations into my already heated core.
“Of course not.”
“Hmm… You’re not a very good liar.” He eased the long strands of hair from my shoulder, exposing my neck. “And do you want to know how I’m aware when you’re lying?”
“I’m not lying.”
He lowered his head and the feel of his hot breath cascading across my skin was enough to push a moan to my throat. That’s what he wanted. I refused to allow him to think I was easy for the pickings.
“A slight hint of redness shifts from one side of your jaw to the other, the shade beautiful.”
The warm flush was also creating heart murmurs. “Are you mafia?” I blurted out.
“What?” He stopped what he was doing, half laughing. “Why would you ask that?”
“The senator says you’re a wealthy man and you don’t seem like the corporate mogul type.”
“But I do seem like mafia. I’m uncertain whether to take that as a compliment. What else did the good senator say?”
I expected that he’d pull me against his chest, returning to where we left off, but there was no further touch, just a closeness that left me aching inside.
“I’m not like the girl in the painting, Zorro. Or should I call you Cruz?”
He chuckled a second time, the sound even deeper. “You were checking up on me. Did Senator Campbell also provide my social security number?”
“Unfortunately, we were interrupted. That’s what every intelligent, sane woman does.”
“Yes, but usuallybeforesuccumbing to the big, bad wolf.”
“Is that what you are?” I forced myself to turn around, folding my arms to keep him from noticing my nipples were fully aroused. There was no way of describing him that would do his appearance justice. He was a creation of beauty, swathed in exquisite attire, his stark white shirt a direct contrast to his dark suit.
Even in the dim lighting of my office, his eyes were the feature that drew me in, even more than before. They reflected a gold shimmer, allowing a few seconds of light to drift past, displaying a reflection of his soul. The glimpse was brief, but enough to send a cascading trail of shivers down my legs. There was darkness inside, even more so than what he’d depicted the night before.
But they also drew my undivided attention as they pierced mine. His chiseled jaw and full lips had become a perfect lure, the kind that would draw people in without any need for words or additional actions.
He was drawing in his prey, using his powerful presence to beckon to me. My heart raced to the point I was lightheaded. Having this kind of reaction was more than just unusual. This wasn’t just about animal attraction, but something else altogether.
All encompassing.
As if the man could swallow me whole.
