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“Don’t be coy.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. “I want to hear you say that I have you. All of you. In that sexy little moan you make when you think I’m not paying attention. When you think hard fucking is all I want.”
His lips find my ear again, and all I can do is stare at the nearest bookshelf as he hums his next words directly into it.
“I’ve seen you. Even this morning. When I’m so deep inside you, you can’t think of anything else. You can’t block me out.”
He wrenches me around, so I have to straddle him, and our foreheads meet, his eyes on my mouth.
“Tell me that I’m the only man you want. That I have you. Say it.”
I know better than to hesitate. “You have me—”
“No,” he snarls. “Not like that.”
His hand worms beneath my skirt and finds the rim of my panties. My breath catches, and a realistic fear creeps into my brain, making me justify trying to climb off him.
“What if someone comes in—”
“They won’t.” He yanks me onto him and laces his fingers together behind my back, trapping me. His tone alludes to the very real possibility that he informed any employees that we aren’t to be disturbed, hence the private room well above the sales floor.
“Sound travels, Jaguar,” I say, fighting to sound playful. “You really want to hear me scream for you here?”
“No,” he admits, his eyes unreadable. “But I want to see which of your true loves wins out. You think I didn’t catch the greedy way you eyed my library, Lupe? Oh, it’s a look I recognize. Hunger. A thirst for knowledge in the way most women look at pretty dresses and priceless shoes. It’s the way more women look at me. Greedy. Not you. You’re eager for the secrets in my head, but you don’t want any more than that. You’ve lied to yourself more than to me, I think. Convinced yourself that you can fake it enough. Lie to us both enough. Maybe one day you’ll believe it. Make no mistake. I didn’t bring you here to pamper you or woo you. I’m not entirely aiming to coddle you after what happened with those bastards, either. Money alone could do that. No. I want something more than your gratitude. I want to see that gleam in your eye.”
He goes silent, daring me to ask.
“What gleam?”
A smile shapes his lips, but it’s a mocking caricature of the expression.
“The one you had when you jumped off a two-story balcony and into my pool, Lupe. When you shouted at me to reveal your lover and parade him before you. Remember that?”
My throat goes dry. “That was fear.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he says coldly. “In any case, I don’t want an echo of what you harbor for another man. I want that fantasy you had, remember?”
He runs his hand through my hair, disturbingly gentle. “You pretended as though you’d fucked Braulio like that, but it was a lie, wasn’t it? No, you dug deep for that one, Lupe. I want to know what you were thinking about?”
Damn him. It never ceases to amaze and terrify me just how perceptive a man he is. Yet, cunning enough to play along with my act only to reveal the truth later when I least expect it. A part of me warns that he’s seen through far more than what he’s led on. Why not ask him?
“You tell me,Julian,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. Our breaths mingle, and from this angle, I have a clear view into those dangerous eyes and his chilling thought process.
“Fine. You were thinking of a man that wasn’t either myself or your Braulio. One you dreamt up, I think. I recognized that far-off look in your eye. The way you relaxed into me. You weren’t reliving a memory, I’m sure of that. You were making one up.”
My face heats. “I think you overestimate my imagination—”
“Oh, but I haven’t.” His grip on my waist lowers until he’s palming my ass in both hands, kneading the globes of muscle. “If anything, I think I may have underestimated the lengths you’d go to endure the task you’ve set up for yourself. You aim to keep me sweet on you, Lupe. But, at the same time, you are driven to keep as much of a wedge between us as you can. Before, I thought it was because you were still working with him. Your lover. That he had a little leash around that pretty neck. I’ve since changed my mind.”
“Oh?” I croak.
“I’ve come to understand that you don’t even realize you’re doing it—closing yourself off from me. It comes as naturally to you as a viper flashing its fangs when threatened. That is what makes you so dangerous, chica.” He strokes his thumb along my chin. “You rely on instinct. Reckless impulse. You are the kind of woman who decides whether she can love a man or not in an instant. But trust? That can take years to earn, no matter how willing you seem to give it. My Gatita was the same way.”
“Is comparing me to your pet your idea of a compliment?”
He laughs. “She is not a pet. She would kill me in a heartbeat if I gave her a chance. I would never put it past her. The same way I don’t doubt that you could turn that gun on me the second you thought me a threat. I can see you wrestling with the decision to stay or flee every fucking second. It’s endearing, for now. You want so badly for me to trust you.”
“And do you?”
It’s a dangerous question to ask a man like him. I don’t do so lightly. I hold my breath as I watch the gears in his brain turn in painfully slow motion. Finally, his smile widens.
