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I fight to suck in air, dizzy by the imagery he paints in such a dangerous, lethal tone.
“And why is that so different from the others?” I ask. “They all want you. They’d give their souls to have you claim them. Keep them. Why am I any more appealing than them?”
“Ah, you hit the nail on the head,” he says. “They want me. The money. The power. But what is it you want, Lupe? You claim to be after the materialistic, but there’s more to it than that. You crave protection. Stability. That is what I can give you, and yet you turn your nose up at my attempts. You aren’t as easy to please as a bitch who wants a nice purse and new shoes. You present a challenge, and I don’t walk away from those so easily.”
“Oh?” I snipe back. “You had no problem entertaining your trophies back in Texas.”
Irrational anger burns through me at the mental image of those bitches fighting to climb onto his lap or laid out in the bed next to him.
“You caught that, did you,” he replies, an eyebrow raised. “I was wondering why you would let another touch what is yours without repercussions. If you must know… I haven’t fucked another since that magic pussy claimed me.”
I suck in a breath at the confession. A man as virile as him, supposedly restraining himself for me alone? The thought makes me reckless enough to play along with his devious fantasy.
“So, if I give in to you,” I begin, my voice husky. “If I let you make me a part of your family, will you then lose interest? Will another fiery chica with a magic pussy be enough to make you stray?”
“Maybe,” he says. His honesty is both blunt and oddly refreshing. I’m so sick of being toyed with and manipulated. This is how he really operates—a never-ending game of chess. “But my woman? She would combat any threat to her kingdom with violence. I pity the woman who would try to take what is hers.”
“And you? If I found another man to—”
Suddenly his expression shifts. This isn’t a game anymore. We’ve crossed a line into uncharted territory, and I am woefully unmatched. Lust is what I know. Not love, and certainly not the limits of a healthy relationship.
“I’d gut him in front of you,” Jaguar promises in a beautiful murmur. “Slowly. I’d make you watch every cut. Every drop of blood spilled. I’d make you savor every one of his screams and cries. No one will ever take what ismine.”
Rather than alarm me, the boast sends a thrill down my spine. Excitement? I picture Diego at the mercy of his knife the way Bastian Cortez was. Do I enjoy that prospect? My heart lurches in a way I’m willing to interpret as a yes.
“Oh, I can see that you’re beginning to understand,” Jaguar says, his voice a heart-stopping rasp. “My woman, so fucking bloodthirsty. Tell me who you need me to kill.”
His eyes glow with unrestrained hunger. Could I really be capable of destroying Diego once and for all? Maybe.
Licking my lips, I suck in a breath. “I want—”
“Jefe!”
Suddenly a commotion comes from below. I hear Horatio shout something I can’t decipher.
I lurch upright. Oh, God. Diego?
Jaguar, however, hasn’t budged. With an almost bored expression, he sighs. “Domino has arrived.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Jaguar leads the way from the room without answering the multitude of questions I levy at his back. We’re halfway down the staircase when I note shifts in the atmosphere that have nothing to do with the movers still dutifully performing their tasks.
Tension gathers in Jaguar’s muscles, radiating off him in waves. Suddenly he stops and reaches out for me. With our fingers entwined, we descend the remaining stairs. At the foot of the stairs already waits Horatio, his expression grim.
“They are here,” he says.
Domino Valenciaga. Despite his obvious hatred, Jaguar seems to think he is the only one capable of helping us rescue Pedro, but I sense there is more to his past with Domino than he’s let on.
Can I trust this new player in our game?
It looks like I don’t have long to decide. Behind Horatio stand two strangers, lingering in the foyer.
One is a small woman, breathtakingly beautiful. Towering over her is a slender man with watchful eyes.
“Alright, you son of a bitch,” he growls, curling his hands into fists. “What do you want now?”
