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‘Both what?’ She could barely speak, much less think.
‘A way to kill two birds with one stone.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I always told myself that if I ever saw you again, I’d cross to the other side of the street. Once was enough. I had moved beyond you, beyond your father, beyond that morning.’
Her heart twisted at the raw emotion in his words. ‘Then why—’
‘I was wrong.’
The admission seemed dragged from him.
‘I still want you.’
She gasped, his words landing hard in her chest. ‘Graciano—’
He moved his hand lower, pressing a finger to her lips. She tried to remember, to remember sense and logic and the fact they were parents to a daughter, that their situation was complicated, but in that moment, everything felt simple. A strong chemical urge was pushing her forward; to hell with their past.
‘And you were there, offering yourself to the highest bidder. How could I not act on that opportunity?’
She swallowed, eyes huge when they met his. ‘It’s not... I’m not—’
‘You’re here to plan an event,’ he said, moving his mouth to the pulse point at the base of her throat and pressing his lips there. ‘But I have you here, in my home, for five nights, and I intend to make the most of them.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘WHATEXACTLYDOESthat mean?’
Great question. Graciano had gone back and forth on this plan since it rammed itself into his damned head at the charity auction. Seducing Alicia for revenge appealed to him on so many levels, but it also disgusted him. It infuriated him that she still had any kind of power over him, even as he recognised he wanted to exert his own power right back over her.
To prove he was different to the lovesick eighteen-year-old she’d used and discarded. To show her that he’d grown into the kind of man she’d never thought he could be.
To make her want him as though he were her universe.
To walk away, as he had then, only this time memories of Alicia wouldn’t torment his sleep, wouldn’t make him want to weaken and return to her side because he’d be leaving her bychoice.
This was his chance to show how far he’d come, how strong he now was. How completely in control. Revenge wasn’t a particularly worthy emotion, but there was no other way to describe how Graciano felt, nor what he wanted. Was it petty, after ten years, to seek vengeance on a woman who’d moved on with her life, as he had his?
Something twisted in his gut, something dark and angry, something that made him face the truth of his character, something he hadn’t known about himself. Yes, he would go to these lengths. Yes, he wanted revenge just this badly. Yes, he wanted to destroy her the way she’d destroyed him.
Because she had.
When her father had stood over Graciano and accused him of raping Alicia, Graciano had felt as though he’d been stabbed. He’d looked to her to speak some sense, to set her father straight, and she had only cowered, pinning herself to her father’s side, the beautiful woman he’d made love to hours earlier someone he no longer recognised. She was a coward. She was a traitor. She had let Edward berate Graciano, calling him the worst names in the world, and she’d said nothing. Done nothing. When Edward had thrown Graciano off the property, telling him he’d call the police if he ever saw the eighteen-year-old again, she still hadn’t said anything.
She’d chosen peace and her ‘nice’ life over truth, passion and Graciano, and he’d never forgotten that betrayal, nor forgiven her for it.
He hadn’t thought of her consciously these past ten years, but the speed with which he’d sought his revenge made him wonder if he hadn’t always wanted this, if he hadn’t been looking for an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past.
It was petty, it was cruel, it was almost certainly something he’d regret, but Graciano was, as always, following his instincts. Heaven help him—levelling the score had never been so tempting.
Ten years ago, he’d been slow. Gentle. Cautious. He’d thought her fragile, and had been so wary of breaking her. They were both older and wiser now. He knew better.
‘Graciano? What do you mean?’ she repeated, with urgency, but her body remained where it was, close to him, so close he could breathe her in—so close he would have been in danger of losing himself, if such a thing were possible. Her sharp intake of breath and rapid exhalation brushed against his cheek. ‘Graciano...’
There was so much he wanted to know and understand about this woman, so much he needed to comprehend in order to have closure. ‘Why did you call me after I’d left?’
Her eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned in. One shift from either of them and their lips would brush. Her eyes opened and she started, but didn’t move away from him. Her hand lifted, fingers pressed to his chest, and sensations rushed through Graciano. It was a worrying tilt away from control. He had to manage his needs, to master his wants. He wouldn’t lose himself to her again.
