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12
Daniela
Just before the doorway, he stops abruptly, and hands me a card. “You can reach me at this number day or night, if you need anything.” He leans in as he speaks, his smooth, full lips grazing my ear.
I leap back, but he reaches for my arm, yanking me toward him, and swivels, until I’m pinned between his body and the wall. For a split second, I feel like Margarida, and to my horror, my body reacts just as I’ve always imagined hers did.
“I don’t want to be overheard,” he says gruffly. “You were the one who insisted on keeping the door open.” He slips the card into my waistband, and his fingers linger too long on my bare skin. “Call if you need anything. That includes protection from my uncle and my cousin Tomas.”
Protection from my uncle and my cousin Tomas.
My vision blurs, as the blood rushes from my head. If he says anything else, I don’t hear it above the fear clawing into my chest.
Why would he say that about his uncle and Tomas? What does he know?Nothing. Don’t be foolish, Daniela. Keep your mouth shut.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is shaky. There’s no way he missed it.
His eyes are glued to me—soaking up all my discomfort.
I’m worried that he’ll see something in my face and press me for information, so I lower my gaze and study the pattern on his shirt to calm myself.
“I have two pieces of advice that I would take to heart if I were you. Don’t attempt to sell the property right now. It’s never a good idea to make decisions of that magnitude while you’re grieving.”
He pauses, but I don’t dare look up. Before he’s done giving me advice, I’ll have counted every white-on-white swirl dotting his shirt front.
“Don’t ever lie to me. I can spot a liar anywhere, even a good one, and you arenotgood,” he taunts. “It never ends well for those who lie to me.Never.”
With that warning, he lowers his head, using his solid body to back me flush against the plaster, where he crushes his mouth to mine, coaxing my lips open with his tongue.
In seconds, my knees buckle and I’m clinging to his shoulders just to stay upright.
“Have you ever been kissed,Princesa?”
His voice is husky, and although I feel the ferocity throbbing inside him, he uses a gentle thumb to sweep a loose strand of hair off my cheek.
The combination—tender and fierce—is dazzling, stealing my breath as it sends shivers skitteringeverywhere.
Suddenly I’m too hot, panting like an animal.No, I’ve never been kissed before.Not like this.Somehow, I manage to shake my head, as his fingers glide through my braid, loosening the thick plait.
“We better make it memorable, then,” he murmurs against my throat, before his lips are on mine again, and all I know is his warm, velvety mouth and the strong hand that cradles my head.
He’s dangerous, common sense whispers.He’s dangerous.
But I’m paralyzed. Helpless to save myself. I don’t even try.
I don’t want to be saved.
He inches closer, and my back arches off the wall to meet him.
Our bodies are fused, and my hips sway against him without any sense of self-preservation. It’s as if I don’t understand exactly where this is going.But I do.
He’s dangerous, common sense whispers, louder this time.
My head spins and spins, incoherent thoughts chasing each other until I’m dizzy.
I might be naïve, but even I recognize the hard shaft wedged between us as arousal. But instead of being intimidated or frightened by something I know so little about, I’m a hot, tingly bundle of nerve endings, lost in the scent of his spicy cologne.Danger be damned.
His large hands cup my ass, securing my body firmly against his, until the throb between my legs consumes every thought—every action I take.
