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Once Conner pushed past a surly Umberto, he led the way to the living room and out onto our back patio. It was a warm summer morning, yet my arms pricked with a sea of goose bumps when Conner speared me with a penetrating arctic stare.
“I thought you were smarter than that, Noemi,” he said quietly.
Each of my vertebrae fused stiffly together, my jaw clenching tight.
How dare he condemn me when he had no idea of the position I was in. Yes, I needed to be more careful, but it wasn’t his place to reprimand me. Not yet, anyway.
I desperately wanted to lash out and spew the venomous words nipping at my tongue, but I hadn’t brought a notepad with me. I was manacled by my silence.
Conner heaved a sigh and extracted his phone from his jacket pocket before opening it to the notes app and handing it to me.
He was giving me the chance to respond, though it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about it. The gesture cooled my anger. Just a smidge. He was still a jackass.
You don’t know anything about me.
He read my typed words, then steadied stormy blue eyes on my face. “I know you’ve lived under that man’s roof all your life and should know better than to be so careless.” His head tilted a fraction as though something had just occurred to him. “Unless … disobedience is new to you.” He took a tiny step forward as though he wanted to crowd me but knew we were being watched. “Just how sheltered are you?”
How had this conversation strayed so quickly? From worry to anger to incensed embarrassment in a handful of heartbeats. Conner had a natural ability to keep me off balance.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled him with a stare, unwilling to answer.
His turbulent gaze flared, hungry and dark as slate. “Have you even been kissed?” His voice lowered to loose gravel on asphalt. Deep enough to make my insides quake.
The answer was yes, but I felt an intense need to stand my ground. I didn’t want to set the stage for this man to see me as a naïve pushover. And besides, it wasn’t any of his damn business if I’d been kissed before.
I snatched the phone out of his hand and began to type.
Did you burn a man alive?
His responding smirk chilled me to the bone.
Why?I shoved the phone back at him.
Conner typed rather than voiced his reply.
Because he deserved it.
“Now answer my question, Noemi.” He lifted his thumb to drift along my bottom lip, the touch lighting a fire in a much more intimate part of my body. “Has another man had his mouth on yours?”
I refused to answer. I could hardly even breathe.
His stare lowered to my lips, and my treacherous body listed toward his like a reed helpless against the summer breeze. That was when I realized he might just kiss me there in plain sight. It was incredibly dangerous. I had no way to gauge my father’s reaction, yet I was consumed with the need to know what it would be like to have someone so compelling and overwhelming lay claim to me.
Yes, I’d been kissed by two different boys in high school, but I doubted those docile encounters would compare to the way Conner would make me feel. Just the look in his eyes promised to ensnare my senses and transport me to a place without reason.
Fortunately, Conner had better control than I did. He pulled away, leaving me shamefully cold and adrift.
“We’d better get back inside,” he murmured absently, the frayed edges of his voice the only sign he’d been affected at all.
As I followed him back inside, it occurred to me that his ploy to speak privately with me had been nothing more than a way of defusing my father’s anger. Conner had been protecting me in his own abrasive way. I’d have to remember that the next time he irritated me, which he undoubtedly would.
I hurried upstairs without looking in my father’s direction. It was a small mercy he let me go without more of a reprimand, but that was only because he had decided to wait until later when we were alone so that he could spew his venom unobserved. I’d been quietly reading in my room when I sensed his malicious presence in my doorway.
“You’re just like your mother, sticking your nose into things that don’t concern you.” Dad stalked closer, lifted the delicate bell pendant necklace from my chest. I prayed he didn’t rip it clean off me, but he only sneered instead. “You may be out of this house in two weeks, but I’ll still have Sante here with me, so don’t get any stupid ideas in that head of yours.” He dropped the necklace and glared. “You forget your place again, and I won’t care who’s there to witness. Iwillteach you some respect.”
God, I wanted to launch my book at the back of his head as he walked out of my room. I wished just once I could stand up to him and tell him what a pathetic coward he was. To free the acidic spitefulness that burned my tongue whenever he targeted me with his egotistical narcissism. Even better, I wished I could make him pay for what he did. Teachhima lesson.
Would marrying Conner lead to a lifetime of this same frustrated helplessness?
