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“What color am I right now?” he asked.
“Hmm. Definitely burnt caramel. Uh-oh.”
“Sí, uh-oh.”
“You’re angry.”
“Sí. And do you have any idea why?” he asked in a low voice.
“Because you’re worried about your car in this neighborhood?”
“I’m not worried about my fucking car,” he snapped. “I’m furious because you’ve been living in this shithole where you could have easily been raped or murdered.”
“Well, I haven’t been. And I’d like to point out that the only place I was ever attacked was at Michelle’s.”
Mierda.
Fuck. She was right. And it was another sign how being around him was dangerous.
“This isn’t acceptable, and you will be moving.”
“To where?” She held up her hands in the air. “And with what money? This place is cheap and it suits my needs. Besides, you don’t get a say in where I live.”
Oh, if only she knew.
Maybe being around him was dangerous.
But left to her own devices, she seemed to make bad decision after bad decision. She had no self-preservation.
She definitely needed someone to show her where her limits and boundaries were.
“Don’t I?” he drawled. He wanted to grab her, bring her over his knee to redden her ass for daring to put herself in danger.
And equally, he wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her until she melted like a good girl.
Fuck. He abruptly turned away. Getting closer to her wasn’t a good idea. He’d have to let her leave soon.
However, he couldn’t do it knowing she’d be living here.
He’d get one of his guys to find her somewhere else to live. Somewhere safe with security. If he had to pay her rent, then so be it.
He might have to live without her, but he didn’t have to do it knowing that she was in this hellhole.
“You’ll wait here. I’ll go and get your things.”
“I’m not waiting here.”
He shot her a look. She grimaced, but didn’t back down.
What the hell?
He’d had grown men piss themselves in the face of his displeasure.
Not this girl. She thought she could grasp the devil by the horns and shake it.
“You don’t know what my things look like.”
“So tell me.” He really didn’t have time for this. He glanced pointedly at his watch.
“It will be quicker if you let me come with you,” she told him. “I’ve hidden them. And besides, are you saying that you can’t keep me safe while I’m with you?”
Fuck it.
This girl.
She really knew how to pick at a man’s ego, didn’t she?
“Fine. You can come with me. But you do exactly what I say when I say it.”
“Of course. I’m ever-obedient.” She sent him a sly look.
Fuck. Thought she was funny, didn’t she?
She was all too aware of the dragon behind her as she entered the building and started toward the elevator.
So grumpy. So territorial.
So protective.
After living with the cult, she’d sworn that she wouldn’t be with someone who tried to tell her what to do.
But with Alejandro, it felt different. He wasn’t doing it to make her feel small. He was protective. Possessive. She got the feeling he’d be happy to make every decision for her.
These past few years since Mama left had been so hard. She’d felt this massive weight on her shoulders, knowing that she was the only person who could discover what happened to her.
It kept her awake most nights thinking and strategizing and worrying.
But when she was around this man . . . he took on so much of the worrying that she felt freer.
As though she could breathe easier. As though she had permission to dance and sing and skip around with a smile. Not really fair to him. Did he feel that same pressure on his chest? Holding him down?
Shoot. She hadn’t thought of that.
“Are you finding it hard to breathe?” she asked.
“What? There were only ten stairs up to this level.” He gave her a strange look.
“No, from having to make all the decisions? Does it make you feel like you can’t breathe? Being in charge has to be stressful, right? Do you ever want to just let go and let someone else take control?”
“No. Never.”
Huh.
She stepped toward the elevator, but he grabbed the back of her jeans.
Her designer jeans.
She’d never had clothes as nice as the ones that he’d bought for her. Cat wasn’t someone who was easily swayed by material things. All she needed was Snuggly and Roger.
But these clothes were definitely pretty. And they fit her so well. Most of the clothes she had were ill-fitting and itchy.
“What are you doing?” What was his problem?
He tugged her back with his hold on her jeans. She nearly tripped, but he helped steady her with his other arm. She felt a bit like a naughty toddler getting picked up by their clothes when they ran off from their parents.
Next thing, he’d want to put a freaking collar and leash on her.
