“Are you asking me on a date to your dining room this evening?” I tease.
His arms tighten the slightest bit and his voice loses its husky quality. “A date is where I take you outside of the house to a romantic location for dinner and you don’t have a problem being seen with me.”
I’ve put my foot in my mouth without realizing it. I continue inhaling his delicious scent, refusing to back down. “I think we’ll agree to disagree on the definition of a date.”
He moves his head back so he can look in my eyes. His have shifted to a much darker blue, and the sensual quality returns to his voice. “I plan on changing your mind about that definition, Miss Kinlock.” His head dips and his mouth moves over mine. I understand Moon’s kissing technique now. He likes to nibble before deepening a kiss. He also likes to leave me wanting more. He pulls back after a few gentle nips and his thumb runs down my cheek to my throat.
“What you’re wearing is perfect for tonight’s dinner. It’s sexy,” he whispers.
I want to be sexy for Moon.
I want to see what the night brings even more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
GABRIELLA ENTERS THE KITCHEN a few minutes after Moon leaves. I’m still standing beside the sink daydreaming about the kiss. She clucks her tongue when she sees that the dishes have been put away.
She avoids my eyes as her gaze travels around the kitchen. “Thank you, Gabriella, for what you did today.”
She turns and her expression isn’t nearly as tight-lipped as usual. “The Señora is poison.”
I agree with her but don’t say so. I change the subject after a conciliatory smile. “Moon told me you’re cooking a special dinner tonight.” Her eyes go back to the hard look I’m accustomed to. I hold up my hand. “No, I have no intention of asking to help. I truthfully can’t cook to save my life.” She expels a breath and I continue. “I need to borrow some basic makeup and a curling iron and hoped you could help me.”
Pity shows in her expression. She doesn’t think there’s much to be done about the bruises on my face. I would agree if she said as much. She opens a drawer, removes a pad and pencil, and then places them on the countertop. “If you write down what you need, I will have the items purchased for you.” Her accent is strong, but her English is flawless. She’s a very cunning lady.
“I’m sorry. I only have a debit card. No cash.” It’s frustrating to be stranded without money.
She laughs and I’m relieved until she adds, “Señor Moon will cover the expenses. You are his guest and he told me to see that you have what you need.”
Oh he did, did he? “I would prefer he not pay for what I need.”
She throws her hands up and blasts me with several sentences in Spanish. She ends in English with, “Make your list and remove yourself from my kitchen.”
I’m fairly certain I didn’t win this argument. I give her a sheepish grin. “Thank you for choosing the clothes in Moon’s closet, Gabriella. They’re perfect.” Maybe this will pacify her.
Again her hands go up. “The señor used the Internet to order the clothes and one of his men picked them up. I helped only with the size. Men cannot properly size a woman. When they try, the clothes are too tight because they only think with el pene.”
I don’t know Spanish, but I can easily translate el pene. I clamp my top teeth on my lower lip to fight laughter. I leave a short list of what I absolutely need and allow my laughter to escape when I’m out of the kitchen. I haven’t run into anyone else in the house and decide to kill some time and explore. That’s code for being nosy. On the left side of the entrance to the kitchen is another hallway. I walk to a door at the end of the hall and it opens before I place my hand on the knob.
It’s one of my four original thugs from the parking garage. He’s big, though not as large as Moon or Gomez. He’s Caucasian. I didn’t take the opportunity to check him out in the garage. At the time, I was more focused on their guns.
“May I help you, Miss Kinlock?” He doesn’t appear happy about my snooping. I can see another man sitting at a computer console with enough security screens to give the White House a run for its money.
“Um, no, thank you. I was just learning my way around.”
He looks over his shoulder and I wonder if he rolls his eyes. He looks back at me with no expression on his face. It’s slightly disconcerting. “I would be happy to show you the estate, Miss Kinlock.”
I bet he would like just the opposite. I decide not to torture him with guided tour duty.
“No, thank you,” I say as I step back. Of course Moon would have security. It’s stupid that I hadn’t thought of it. I’m also very aware that I humped Moon’s leg and probably gave his guards a nice show. I might need to kill Moon for that. I’ll decide at dinner. Right now, I just want to get out of here. I turn and go back to the stairs at the front of the house. I glance up and look for cameras. It doesn’t matter that I don’t see any; I’m aware of them now.
I climb the stairs and can’t resist pushing on a door that’s partially open—cameras or no. It’s directly across the hall when I reach the landing. I’m excited to find that it’s a library with books lining tall oak shelves. There are two comfortable reading chairs and behind them a large business desk. I wonder if this is Moon’s office. Snooping in different rooms is one thing. Going through his desk quite another, and I won’t do it. I’ll forget that Moon told me to treat his home as my own. Instead, I search the shelves and read titles. It’s barely after twelve and I need to kill some time. I should have asked Mr. Thug where Moon’s gym is. He must have one here on the grounds. A book is the second best I can do. They’re in several languages, which doesn’t surprise me. Moon isn’t your average uneducated thug. I discover an English translation of One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez. It’s been on my to-read list for years. I decide to try it.
I head back to Moon’s bedroom, remove the sundress and swimsuit, and put on shorts and a tee after a quick, refreshing shower. There are two comfortable chairs in the corner of the room and I curl up in one and begin to read. I fall asleep while José Arcadio Buendía dreams of Macondo.
A soft whisper startles me awake. “Señorita?”
My head is fuzzy. “Gabriella, I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” I say.
“The world has not stopped and you need sleep to heal. I have brought the requested items and thought you might want a fancy dress for the evening. Señor Moon did not order anything for you to wear for a romantic dinner. I took the liberty.”
Two medium-sized bags are lying on the foot of the bed along with a full-length garment bag. I don’t even know what to say. I mumble, “Thank you,” but I know it isn’t nearly enough. I stand up, walk to the bed, and lift the bag. I slowly lower the zipper and unleash gauzy, deep red material. On closer examination, the dress has a halter-style neckline. Attached to the hanger is a black halter bra, which will work with my full breasts. A slit in the side of the dress goes practically to the waist.
Oh, my. I turn to Gabriella and catch a twinkle in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful and indecent,” I tell her.
She smiles and answers in Spanish. I try to look as if I understand. She eventually translates part of what she said. “El Señor needs spice in his life.”
Hell, this dress is spicy all right. “Thank you,” I tell her again.
“Please use the house phone if you need assistance. I must check dinner.”
Gabriella leaves the room and I click my cell phone for the time and see that it’s a little after five. I need another shower. I want to be ready before Moon arrives and that could be at any time. Thirty minutes later, my hair is in a towel because I have nothing to tie it up with, and I’m trying to figure out how to go about applying the makeup. The house phone rings and I take a break from the mirror to answer it.
“Señorita, El Señor will be home in thirty minutes. Would you care to prepare yourself in another room?”
I have no idea how I go
t on this woman’s good side. “Yes, thank you, Gabriella. I’m afraid repairing my face isn’t as easy as I hoped.”
“I will be up in one moment, sí?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I unplug the curling iron and collect the makeup. It’s much more than I asked for, and the brand is something you would purchase from an upscale department store. I’ve never worn much in the way of makeup, so I’m not even sure what to do with most of it.
Gabriella knocks at the door and enters with a young woman possibly in her late teens or early twenties behind her. “My niece, Guadalupe, will attend you.” Gabriella speaks to Guadalupe in Spanish and they both pick up a bag while I grab the dress. I’m in one of Moon’s bathrobes wearing the halter bra and a thong that was hidden by the bra. I almost overlooked the string thing. There will be no lines in the dress, but it’s as if I’m wearing nothing in the way of panties at all. There is no doubt that Gabriella wishes me to seduce her employer, and I’m not sure why. Or, why she would think that hadn’t happened yet. We have been sleeping in the same bed.
She leads us down the hall and enters the room where I stayed the first time I was here. There’s a small suitcase open on the bed. Gabriella immediately rumbles off Spanish to Guadalupe and gives me a nod before she leaves us alone.
Guadalupe walks over and closes the bedroom door behind her aunt. She’s a pretty girl with large, expressive brown eyes. “Please call me Lupe and forgive my aunt for forcing me upon you.” She smiles and relief slides through me. I don’t think I could handle another bitchy woman today.
I return her smile. “I’m hoping you know what to do with all the makeup your aunt bought me. I’m at a complete loss.”
“I’m a cosmetology student and will work a miracle on your face.” She looks stricken for a moment. “No offense. My aunt explained that you were in a car accident.”
I laugh and wave her apology away. “If you can make the bruises fade somewhat, I’d be forever grateful.”
She’s no-nonsense after that and has me wash off the makeup I’ve already applied. Her case, which was open on the bed, holds everything she needs to do her job. After she has turned on all the lights in the room, she has me sit on the bed. My transformation begins. She holds a small white painter’s palette and mixes several shades of white, making a white foundation that she applies over the bruises. I’m glad I can’t see what it looks like because the color is as light as the palette. She next adds different shades of beiges and browns with the end result being closer to my skin tone.
She chats the entire time. “I’m on summer break. My father lives in Tucson and I always visit my aunt when I’m out of school. I attend AOFM Makeup Academy in New York. Part of next year I will apprentice in London. I plan to work for a Hollywood studio someday…” and on and on she goes. I enjoy listening to someone who is carefree and hasn’t been hit by the realities of life.
It takes her all of twenty minutes.
“Now your hair.” She picks up the ends and moves my hair to the left and right. “I would like to curl it, though leave it long. Men love long hair, so we won’t pull it into an up-do. Someday, though, you need to allow me to give you an up-do. You will look fabulous.”
I doubt that will ever happen. I give her a mumbled, “Sure,” and she remains her same giddy self, which is why I didn’t argue.
“My aunt says you are a strong woman and perfect for El Señor. She has been with the family since before she was my age. She is very protective, and now she sees you as a possible match. You are fortunate my aunt is playing matchmaker and not making your life hell. She can be quite cutting, and that is her usual demeanor when women come close to El Señor.”
I only received a short example of Gabriella’s bite, and I do feel fortunate.
Lupe has me move closer to the top of the bed because she has the curling iron plugged in there. I turn this way and that at her direction. I never take this much time with my hair and prefer it up off my neck. Of course, I’ve never been in serious seduction mode before.
Lupe won’t allow me to look in the mirror until she’s finished with my hair and I’m completely dressed. When I’m standing in the gauzy red material and wearing black pumps, she whispers, “Oh la la. I hope Señor Gomez is not around. He will spirit you away before El Señor sees you.”
I laugh because it’s obvious Lupe has a thing for Gomez. I hear it when she says his name with a dreamy quality in her voice. “One last thing.” She runs back to her makeup case and takes out several stems of colorful silk flowers and pulls a red one off. She tucks it behind my ear.
She leads me to the full-length mirror in the bathroom.
Holy hell.
It’s not me staring back. It can’t be. Not a single bruise shows through the makeup. My cheekbones are accented with a dusting of pink and my eyes are out of this world gorgeous. Black liner defines the upper and lower lids and she has given me the perfect smoky-eyed look that I could never manage in a hundred years. And my hair. Large curls rest over my shoulder and around my cleavage. The dress shows my breasts to full advantage. I kick my leg out a bit and the skin of my thigh peeks through the side slit.
If Moon doesn’t fall at my feet and worship me, I’ll shoot him.
Lupe claps with glee. “You are beautiful.”
“You’ve worked miracles.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
MY STOMACH IS A tight ball of nerves as I walk down the staircase. Moon is waiting below and watches me descend. He was wearing a suit when he left the house today. He has obviously changed into another one. It’s black and sleek, and I catch my breath at how incredible he looks. It’s not only how he looks. It’s the power he holds by the way he stands. The intense expression on his face, and damn—his eyes.
I stare at Moon like he is the most scrumptious piece of candy on earth. His expression says something entirely different. He’s looking at me like the predator he is and I’m prey. My belly flip-flops and my knees go weak. He places his hand out and I take it because if I don’t, there’s a good chance I’ll fall.
I pull in a breath and try to regain my equilibrium. His gaze travels to my breasts. I can feel the heat rise over my chest to my neck and up into my cheeks. Moon is the combination of every sexual fantasy I’ve ever had. I’m burning with need. His appreciative gaze tells me I’m beautiful.
He bends down slightly and whispers in my ear. “It would be so very sad to walk you back up the stairs after you so carefully walked down. It’s all I can think about right now.”
I don’t smile. “Would you like to know a secret?” I place my hands on his shoulders, slide them up, and touch the perfectly manicured scruff on his jaw. I lean in so our lips are almost touching. “I want you to fuck me.” If he had any doubts that I wanted him, they’re gone now.
His fingers slide up my back and beneath my hair. He tips his head so he’s whispering in my ear again, “I plan to fuck you until you scream.”
I lean away and slide my hands over the shoulders of his suit coat once more. He’s not wearing a tie, and my fingers hit warm flesh at the V of his shirt. He peers down the few inches that separate us. His nostrils flare as he inhales. I most likely smell like him because I used his soap. The look he gives me says differently.
“Gabriella will kill us if we don’t eat,” he growls softly.
“Kiss me first.”
His lips descend. It’s a light kiss and I want deep. He tugs my hair slightly and I open my eyes. “Last chance for dinner, baby.”
Gabriella worked hard. I know she did. It’s not that I’m undecided. I want Moon, now. It’s the guilt that makes me hesitate.
Moon releases my hair and takes my hand. “We will devour our food,” he says, and I can’t hold back a giggle. “Come on.” He marches us to the formal dining room. We round the corner and the only light in the room is offered by candles. Beautiful and delicate China plates are intimately placed at the corner of the large table. Crystal glasses and heavy silverware ad
d to the grandeur. Covered silver dishes are spread out in front of the place settings.
“Where’s Gabriella?” I ask breathlessly as I turn my gaze to Moon.
A small quirk appears on his lips. “She said she’s visiting her ill sister.”
I instantly feel horrible that she went to so much work when she should be with her sister.
“I’m sorry that her sister is ill,” is all I can think to say.
Moon allows a little more of his repressed smile to escape. “Gabriella only has brothers. She also said if we touched a dirty dish, she would skin us alive.”
I laugh with relief. “Don’t ever give her a reason to leave you, Moon. She’s worth her weight in gold.”
He pulls out my chair, and after I’m seated, he takes his. He pours Champagne into two long crystal flutes. He hands me one and tips his to mine when I take it.
“To the strong and beautiful women in my life.” He lifts his glass to his lips and I notice a bit of my lipstick on them. Desire burns in my gut at the need to lick it off.
I take a slow sip instead and then lift my glass. “To men who understand that strength in a woman is a blessing.” I receive my first full smile of the evening as he takes another drink.
If I don’t stop staring at him, I’ll never be able to eat. I can’t believe how hungry I actually am. “Where do we begin?” I drag my eyes away from him and I turn my full attention to the food.
Moon uncovers steaming hot flour tortillas and puts one on my plate before placing one on his own. “These are homemade and Gabriella’s specialty. The meat will be seasoned perfectly. My father said there was no finer cook in the world. My mother was incapable of doing more than boiling water. Gabriella saved us from starvation.”
During the next hour, we eat, drink Champagne, and laugh over stories of our childhood. I sense his sadness when Moon tells me more about his parents, but there’s happiness too. The stories of his brother are emotional and heartwarming. Moon’s love for his family runs deep. He asks about my parents and also about my childhood. I’m so fortunate to still have my parents, and I tell him so. He kisses my fingers and gives them a slight squeeze before asking me more about my studious, nerd-girl school days. He appears fascinated with my young girl hopes and dreams, which I freely share because I’ve had too much Champagne. I even tell him funny rookie stories just to hear him laugh. An uncomfortable pause happens when he touches on my shoulder injury. “I don’t think about that,” I tell him. “I’m a PI now. The past needs to stay behind me.” My story is nowhere near as tragic as Moon’s, but he understands.
Heat: An Alpha Male Criminal Romance (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 1) Page 15
