by Piper Stone
Then why have you thought of little else?
Hissing, I pushed my inner voice away. There was work to be done.
I’d stayed away from the café the next day as well, chiding myself for my behavior on every level. The lame call I’d given to Elena made me sick to my stomach. Then I’d given up and given in, attempting to talk to Angelina, only to find out that the day before had been her last day at the café. That had given me pause as well. Even though she and I hadn’t been buddies, I’d enjoyed her take no shit attitude.
For about a dozen reasons, I felt all alone, not a single person to talk to. I’d never really had a group of girlfriends before, the kind you blabbed to about bad dates and new dresses, but right now, I needed advice. If only my mother were alive. Not that her taste in men had been much better, but she would have given me her thoughts anyway. If I had to guess, I believed she’d tell me to move on, get my shit in check, and forget about the man with the sexy two-day stubble.
I glared up at the clock for the tenth time in less than an hour, actually looking forward to closing time. I’d been thrilled to sell an actual painting early that morning. Then there hadn’t been a soul who’d come into the store, only two phone calls.
I had no idea how my aunt made any kind of living, unless her divorce settlements had been huge. I couldn’t help but smile. That was a distinct possibility knowing Lucia. What would she think about my foray into darkness?
I walked toward the window, unhappy that I’d allowed Elena to go home early. Granted, I owed her for bagging on her a couple of days before and it was a Spanish holiday, which meant the streets of the city were as close to being deserted as I’d seen. If I had to guess, I’d say everyone had vacated to the beach on such a gorgeous freaking day. My thoughts drifted once again to Rafael. I could always hear the sounds of the surf. The setting was gorgeous, lush landscaping and an absolutely private beach. If only I could afford something so amazing one day.
Pipe dream, girl. Pipe dream.
The sound of the surf had been my lover all night, comforting me even when Rafael had curled up around me, his arms in a protective hold. I’d actually been surprised he’d wanted me to stay at his house overnight. In fact, he’d insisted, even making certain I had a warm robe to wear, a bottle of wine at my disposal while he’d indulged in scotch.
I’d fallen asleep in his arms, only to awaken alone. I’d also noticed the gun on the nightstand, even running my fingers over the barrel. Whatever world he was living in, a weapon seemed to be his lifeline.
I knew all about brutality, the kind that seemed innate with some people, enough so they enjoyed terrorizing others. I wanted no part of that life any longer.
Seeing him alone on the beach had been disturbing for reasons I hadn’t been able to ascertain. I’d stood there basking in the morning light, watching the sun sliding up from the depths of the water. The strings of color had been magical, hopeful. I’d realized just how damaged he was by watching him. Such solitude. So very much alone. Whatever monsters were lurking in his mind had a tight grip, claws stretching to reach his throat.
At least he’d dropped the armor for a little while, the time spent pretending to be a couple amazing, the shower something else entirely. I shifted again, almost savoring the discomfort I felt on my backside. The man knew how to give a spanking.
For a bad little girl.
I could almost hear his voice as he’d told me just how disobedient I’d been.
I bit my lip as the memories rushed in, the almost desperate need he’d had, the desire to consume me as if he’d never see me again. Perhaps that’s exactly what had happened. I shouldn’t be sad, but a part of me wanted to break through the steel so firmly encased around his body. A man like Rafael would never allow anyone to catch a glimpse of his vulnerability.
Everything after that had been pleasant. Civil. Strained. He hadn’t bothered to ask me where I lived, merely dropping me off on the corner near the café. The silent drive had left me sick to my stomach and I half expected he would pull out money, thanking me for an okay time. I laughed softly to myself as I rubbed my eyes, ready to go ahead and lock the door twenty minutes early.
“I would love to see you again, Savannah. Perhaps when I return to town, you would consider going to dinner with me.”
The words had been completely startling, throwing out all the anger that I’d bottled up for the man. What was worse? I’d told him how much I would enjoy that. Then he’d brushed his knuckle over my cheek in such a loving and tender manner, his eyes searching my soul as if fearful I’d never see him again.
Only after he’d driven away had I realized that he had no legitimate way of getting in touch with me. Although I had the distinct feeling that the predator would hunt me down. I wasn’t certain whether to be excited at the prospect or terrified.
I walked toward the back of the store, preparing to turn off the lights when I heard the tinkle of the bell over the door. A wash of crazy desire swept through me given the scent that preceded the customer. The musky and exotic fragrance was exactly what Rafael had worn. Butterflies filtered into my stomach, twisting and turning from both a hint of excitement as well as a full round of anxiety. The man wasn’t good for me on several levels.
I plastered on a smile as I turned around, curious as to the man already studying a piece of art. He was younger than what few customers I’d spoken with, certainly dressed entirely differently than the usual tourist longing to make a find while on vacation.
“Puedo ayudarte?” The man was decidedly Spanish, his dark hair and complexion along with blacked-out sunglasses giving him a dangerous vibe.
He slowly turned in my direction, lifting his shades. At least his eyes were kind, his smile warm. “You are American. Yes?”
“Is my phrasing that atrocious?” I asked, laughing. “Or did my red hair give me away?” I could easily tell by the clothes he was wearing that he was a man of substance, the watch on his wrist worth a significant amount of money alone.
“Quite the contrary, you could easily pass for a beautiful Spanish woman,” he stated, giving me a onceover as he eased his sunglasses into his suit jacket. “You could also be a model for any of these paintings.”
I walked closer, studying him intently. “While I must admit the line was said with flair, we both know it’s just a line. However, thank you for the compliment.”
He seemed taken aback by my abruptness, once again locking eyes with mine. He finally laughed, bending his head in a chivalrous sign of conceding. “Nicely done, Ms....”
“Tyler. Savannah Tyler. Is this painting something you’re interested in?”
“I am, very much.” He walked closer, his gaze sweeping over the work in a scrutinizing manner. “How much for a piece of this nature?”
“Let me check.” As I walked to the desk, I had the distinct feeling that he was following my every move. I loathed feeling uncomfortable in my own space, especially in the middle of the afternoon. Ignoring him, I flipped through the computer until I found the information, quickly jotting it down on one of my aunt’s business cards. Customers rarely purchased the first time they came into the store. When I handed it to him, our fingers touched, and I was surprised at his reaction, the curl of his lip and an exaggerated deep breath.
He took his time glancing at the figure then shoved the card in his pocket. “Very reasonable.”
“The artist is a well-known local, his works having appeared in several museums all throughout Europe. He was even called up and coming in the latest edition of Fine Art Magazine, his pieces called evocative and insightful.”
“Yes, I can see that they are, especially into the minds of women longing to be a submissive but terrified of losing herself.”
I’d had my fill of bullshit, enough to last me for the rest of my life. “Mr....”
“Alverez,” he answered.
“Mr. Alverez. I would be happy to provide some additional information if you’d like to think about the purchase. Unfortu
nately, I’m getting ready to close for the night.”
He scanned the entire perimeter of the store, taking far too much time in doing so. “That won’t be necessary. The painting will make an exquisite addition to my collection.”
“Then we can make arrangements to have it delivered for you.” I took a full two steps away from him, the hair standing up on the back of my neck. “How would you like to pay for your transaction? We take all major credit cards and of course bank transfers.”
“Delivery would be excellent.” He turned toward me, undressing me with his eyes. “I would prefer to pay cash if that is acceptable to you.” Without waiting for my answer, he reached into his pocket, retrieving his wallet. No one carried that kind of cash on them. No one. I’d been warned about doing so even by my aunt, various gangs and local assholes who worked for the mafia making it impossible to carry large amounts of cash for fear of being attacked.
Yet he easily pulled out several bills, leaving him with an equal amount. Swallowing, I accepted the offering, careful this time to avoid touching him. His gaze remained penetrating and I could swear the bulge between his legs was thick and hard.
“Your address?”
A cunning smile crossed his lips before he slipped a card from his wallet, taking his time handing it to me. “Here you are. Anytime in the next seventy-two hours would be perfect. I’ll alert my staff as to the planned arrival.”
“Excellent. I hope you enjoy your painting.”
He waited until I at least glanced at the card before turning slowly and walking toward the door, taking one last look at the piece of art. When he placed his hand on the door, his words were chilling. “Something so beautiful should honestly be in a cage, protected and cared for, presented in a way that only true admirers can appreciate. I’m certain that is something you can fully understand.”
Alverez dared take another look in my direction before nodding and walking out. I forced myself to wait before rushing toward the door, slipping the lock into place. Jesus Christ. What the hell was it with these guys? I felt dirty, as if I’d just been fondled by him. I laughed, shaking my head as I walked back to the desk, making myself a note about the painting for in the morning. It was time to get the hell out of here. Fuck. With cash, now I’d have to go to the bank, which was almost eight blocks away. Even though the banks were closed, the night deposit would work. I couldn’t dare leave such a hefty amount of cash in our safe. My luck wasn’t that good.
Grousing, I grabbed my purse, shoving the cash into nondescript envelope along with a deposit ticket and heading for the rear door. Wine wouldn’t cut it tonight. A margarita was definitely in order.
After a long, hot shower to rid myself of the filth.
The traffic was almost nonexistent, very few pedestrians frequenting the local businesses including the restaurant, but the bars would be packed later. I’d heard about the local festivities, the almost carnival-like atmosphere occurring for every holiday. I should have closed for the day.
Then I wouldn’t have sold a painting. Then I wouldn’t have met the latest rendition of Mr. Jerk. At least there was a wonderful market I’d been to once near the bank.
By the time I deposited the cash, I was in a much better mood, even humming as I headed toward the market. As I walked by one of the local restaurants, I was surprised there were several customers inside; a couple toasting, several people sitting around the wooden bar, and a table of men lifting their glasses of booze. Sighing, another moment of loneliness settled in.
I continued to the market, taking a deep whiff as I walked inside. The manager greeted me warmly, a genuine smile on his face. I grabbed a small basket, touring the location before moving toward the fruits and vegetables. The luscious fruits were perfectly aligned, their fragrances drawing me in, the colors vivid and catching to the eye. My stomach growled as I made my selections, still picking out my favorite bottle of Spanish wine. I deserved a feast tonight. It wasn’t every day a girl sold a forty-thousand-dollar painting.
Whew.
As I walked outside, laughing from attempting to converse with the manager, I groaned eyeing the oncoming twilight. While the days were warm and wonderful, the nights came on quickly. I’d gone eight blocks in the opposite direction of my aunt’s flat, which meant eleven long blocks to walk back.
I hoisted the bags to a more comfortable position, chastising myself for purchasing so much. If I made it to the flat without dropping them, I’d consider myself lucky. I took two steps, forced to adjust the sacks again when a flash of headlights drew my gaze. The vehicle moved across the intersection, further drawing my attention. There was no particular reason, other than the dark SUV was an unusual sight at least within the city limits. So many people drove compact cars for gas mileage.
The vehicle slowed, moving against the curb, the headlights turned off. They were obviously going to the restaurant for dinner. As had occurred several times during the day, my thoughts drifted to Rafael and his offer. The bags finally in a comfortable position, I rounded the corner, ready for the long trek home. I heard raucous laughter coming from across the street, men swearing in Spanish, some of them slurring their words then laughing boisterously.
Well, it was a holiday after all.
Smiling, I took long strides as two of the men started to cross the street, stopping long enough to light up cigarettes. When one of them noticed me, he whistled, the smile on his face far too seductive in nature.
“Hola, bebe,” one of them called, whistling once again.
The others jerked their heads toward me, one even daring to swagger in my direction. I was suddenly crawling with heebie-jeebies, the fear from the earlier attack weighing heavily on my mind.
“Quiero fiesta?” another asked, as if I wanted to party with men I didn’t know.
My little voice was laughing even as I shook my head, taking several steps backwards.
There was no warning of what was about to happen as three sets of doors opened on the SUV. I would forever hear the popping sound as gunfire peppered into the night sky, the men leaving the restaurant stunned from the ferocious attack.
Two of the men fell, the other two attempting to run as the men from the SUV rushed forward, prepared to finish off the assassinations.
My instincts took over, forcing me into the shadows as the bullets continued to fly. Three of the group of men were down, one body twitching in the throes of death while the others were stone cold dead. Two of the assassins from the SUV swung their weapons in opposite directions, as if protecting the third.
As another vehicle approached, the headlights streaming over the entire street, the man approached, his weapon raised.
The slow motion of what happened next sent a wave of chills down my spine.
The headlights captured the identity of the assailant.
I dropped my bags, the sound of smashing glass thunderous in my ears.
And he turned his head in my direction, his eyes opening wide. As he ran toward me, his mouth twisted in frustration the moment before he wrapped his arm around me, dragging me off my feet.
“Savannah.” The deep, beautiful baritone was one I recognized well, yanking me into a state of shock. This just couldn’t be happening. Everything had been a complete lie.
Now he was going to kill me.
“No!”
Chapter Ten
Rafael
Goddamn it.
I was still shaking from a rush of rage and adrenaline as the door was slammed shut behind me after I shoved Savannah inside the SUV. Nothing in my world had prepared me for anything of this nature. What the fuck was she doing at the restaurant?
My instincts were on overdrive, a wave of anger as well as knowing settling in. She’d used me. She’d obviously been employed to try to get information or at minimum keep me locked down while another plan was set into motion.
I was a complete fool.
“Let go of me. Fucking let go.” She twisted her body, kicking out, fighting me with every ounc
e of energy she had. I was shocked at her strength and her strong will.
“Stop fighting me, Savannah. Now!”
My orders only pushed her harder. When she managed to slug me in the jaw, I wrenched her wrist, pushing her over me and below the windows.
“I hate you. Sick fuck,” she snarled.
Both my enforcers jumped into the front seats and within seconds, tires were screeching as Jorge floored the accelerator, screeching around the corner. The plan had been a good one, the meeting held during a time when few citizens would be in the city until later, information about the final location coming only an hour before.
“Stay down,” I instructed, hissing through my teeth as I pinned her against the seat. I was aware we had company, the two cars racing toward us at impressive speed. They were obvious muscle keeping the three Capos and Alviro protected. Too bad they hadn’t done their jobs.
“No. No!” Savannah screeched, successful in freeing both arms, pummeling her fists against my face.
I wrestled with her until I caught her wrists in one hand, shoving them against the side of the SUV. “Listen to me. We are being followed. If you lift your head, they will shoot you. Do you understand me?”
She simply glared at me, continuing to struggle, her breathing coming in ragged pants.
“Do you want to die?”
She wrinkled her nose, her eyes opening wide. “Who are you? Who the hell are you?”
“Someone who might be able to save your life but only if you obey my every command.” Damn it. Her presence merely reminded me I’d fucked up in touching her in the first place. As the headlights fast approached, I wrapped my other hand around her throat. “You are going to stay down until I tell you it’s all right. I’m not playing around here, Savannah. These men are out for blood.”
“Yeah, I guess so since you killed several men. You’re a fucking murderer.” She was almost calm in her accusations, her pretty face twisted in fear and anger.
“That may be true but right now, I am the only man who can keep you alive. Get on the floor.”
