by Stone, Piper
Exhaling, I tossed my jacket and yanked the shirt from my trousers before heading toward the bar. Tonight was all about an aged scotch in order to calm my anger. After pouring a hefty amount, I held the glass to my head before walking toward the bank of windows. Even the ocean seemed tumultuous tonight, waves crashing against the shore. I leaned against the glass, able to see my reflection, albeit a mere half of my face. Everything seemed distorted, my features misshapen.
Even I’d always thought of myself as a monster, a truly evil man hiding behind a façade of wealth. My head was pounding, the necessity for making alternative decisions absolutely vital. What they were going to be I wasn’t certain of.
I moved back toward the table, easing down onto the couch. While I was curious about what information that Aleksei had provided, exhaustion was settling in and I had the distinct feeling difficult days were ahead of me. I took another gulp before putting the glass on the table and opening the envelope.
A series of explicit photographs was nestled inside.
The images were horrific, bloody, and brutal, the kind of murders that even made my skin crawl. And what was worse? They included women and children. As I shifted from one to the other, I began to get a vital picture of Santiago in my mind. The manner in which he discarded of his enemies was reprehensible. He had no honor.
I shoved the photographs back into the envelope then grabbed my jacket, sliding the entire shit storm into one of the pockets. I rubbed my jaw, thinking about the next steps. Yes, the information could prove useful, placing a stranglehold on his operations, but at what price? Valencia could never know just how much of a monster her father truly was.
I’d yet to hear whether or not Santiago was still in the country. I could only assume that he’d remain, hiding until he finalized whatever plan of revenge he intended. I would make certain to remain a step ahead of him.
After a few seconds, I walked down the set of rear stairs, slowly moving toward her partially closed door. Using just the tip of my index finger, I pushed it open, peering inside, able to see the rise and fall of her shoulder given she was turned on her side. At least she’d been able to rest.
I took another sip, realizing my hand was shaking from the high level of toxic adrenaline. As I headed toward the bed, I held my breath. Perhaps my decision in taking her had been impetuous, starting a chain reaction that would lead to more violence, even additional deaths.
But I didn’t give a shit.
Her presence at least gave additional meaning to my life. I stood over her, gazing down at her unblemished skin, her back lithe yet so strong. Reaching out, I kept my index finger a few centimeters from her skin, tracing the line of her spine before disappearing into the silk gown she’d selected to wear. Sighing, I resisted waking her, merely easing the sheet up to her shoulders.
She certainly deserved a night of peace. Just before I closed her door, I heard her stir in her sleep, soft murmurs slipping past her lips. The sound was like sweet music, a lilting purr that sent a shower of sensations through every cell and muscle, engorging my cock. The woman made me so damn hard.
As I walked up the stairs, a moment of utter disgust filled my mind. While I’d been born into this world, the ramifications for certain decisions had never been this painful. She’d been right. I’d ceremoniously destroyed her life. Or was I actually saving her from another even more damaging situation? Maybe I needed to tell myself that in order to abate the guilt.
Only when I’d moved to the top of the stairs did I notice a light remained on in the kitchen. The warm glow was a reminder of something my mother had done when I was a teenager. She’d always left a light on for my return. As I walked into the room, the place setting for one on the island caught my attention immediately. A bottle of wine was open, a fresh crystal glass ready for my arrival. As I inched closer, I realized there was a note positioned in the middle of the plate.
I thought you might be hungry.
There are leftovers in the refrigerator.
There were no flowery words, just a kindness that in all truthfulness, I wasn’t accustomed to. I could require people to service me no matter what I asked, but a sweet token of this nature hadn’t occurred since my childhood. There was no reason for the oddness pooling into my stomach but when I opened the refrigerator door, I was more than just surprised. Valencia had positioned various meats and cheeses, fruit and vegetables on a beautiful crystal platter, everything done in an artistic fashion. There was even a bowl of what appeared to be some type of cream.
The myriad emotions were difficult to bear, my thoughts drifting once again to all the vile and nasty things I craved doing to her. With her.
Dominating her.
Training her.
Using her.
The laugh escaping my mouth had no meaning, other than the surprise more pleasing than I wanted to admit even to myself. I felt a level of warmth inside that I’d hadn’t experienced in years. All because of cheese and fruit? Jesus.
But I eased the platter onto the counter, running my fingers over the carefully placed plastic wrap, tingling inside. I gulped the entire remainder of the scotch, my taste having changed. The red wine. There was nothing better than a bold cabernet with specially selected cheeses. I popped the cork, pouring with enough aggression that beads of the rich liquid slipped past the rim.
I was suddenly ravenous, ripping away the plastic as if I hadn’t had a meal in a solid week. The first bite of blue cheese was incredible, the swig of wine more intense than ever before. I powered through several pieces, unable to fill my mouth fast enough. The flavors were exquisite, so rich and bold, satisfying at least a portion of my palate.
The wineglass still in my hand, I walked toward the stereo system. While my tastes in music were eclectic, there was only one CD that would be acceptable. After grabbing the remote and pressing the switch, I took careful steps backwards, my chest heaving as I waited for the first few chords of the passionate concerto.
The moment I heard the cello, I closed my eyes, envisioning the concert once again. Valencia was extraordinarily accomplished, her talent remarkable. With every note, every amazing chord, I fell into a magical journey that only something so beautiful could accomplish. The darkness, the magic wrapped around the intense passage literally took my breath away.
I found myself stumbling backwards, self-loathing pushing the ache in my head to a dull roar. I could feel the level of anger releasing, a moment of raw sadness interrupting my thoughts, dragging on my synapses.
“Turn that off!”
Her demand managed to filter over the music, her voice shaking from her own heightened anger.
I took a deep breath before opening my eyes. She stood like a beacon of hope, her long hair cascading down her shoulders and arms in a halo effect. I found it difficult to respond and when I didn’t, she moved toward the stereo, slapping her hands against the CD player in an effort to stop the music.
“I said, turn it off! I don’t want to hear that crap,” she spewed, finally finding the remote. Within seconds, she had the CD in her fingers, smashing it several times against the bookshelf until there was nothing left but shards. “You took that away from me. You are selfish and intolerable. You don’t care if you hurt me. Do you? Do. You?”
I half tossed the wineglass onto the counter, taking long strides until I was able to take her wrists into my hands. “Of course I care whether you’re hurt. Answer me this question. Why? Why don’t you want to hear some of the most beautiful music in the world, a moment that you created? Why?”
“Because,” she spit out, struggling to free herself from my rock-solid hold. “Why does it matter to you? You don’t really give a shit about me and I know better than to think you’re going to allow me to have my cello. You don’t care about my needs or wants, whether or not I deserve to be happy. You only care about yourself and your vicious world of criminals. Monsters. You’re evil. You’re truly evil!”
“Don’t you understand how much I do care about you?
All of you? And yes, I want you to be happy.”
“Prove it, Miguel. Prove to me that you actually give a damn about anything other than yourself.”
I was ripped apart inside, the longing moving into a level that I couldn’t control. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. You belong to me. Period.”
“I’m not your possession. I don’t deserve this life.”
“This is the only life you’re going to have, Valencia. I suggest you get used to it.” I crushed my mouth over hers, my fingers digging into her wrists. Light flashed in my field of vision as the passionate moment became a roar, a predator taking his mate, a monster capturing his prey. I’d never felt so damn alive, so animalistic.
I dominated her tongue as she continued to fight me, trying to pummel her fists against my chest, half screaming into the kiss. I let go of one of her wrists, raking my fingers down her back, cupping her buttocks and forcing her hips against mine. I gathered a whiff of her feminine wiles, her own desire that she refused to acknowledge. I’d seen the hardness of her nipples poking through the thin material of her gown.
She was mine. All mine.
I was wild in my actions, dark and husky growls rushing up from my chest, the beast within me clawing its way to the surface. The taste of her, the heat of her body against mine was too much to bear. I slid my hand under her gown, caressing her bottom.
She wiggled again, slamming her fist against my shoulder then raking her nails down my face. The shock was just enough I lost my grip. When she reared back, ready to strike me with her open hand, I fisted her hair with one hand, her arm with the other.
“This is my house, Valencia, and I require respect. Never forget that. Never forget who owns you.”
“You may own my body, Miguel, but you’ll never own my heart. I will be free of you one day. I will find a place where you’ll never be able to find me. My father will become the hunter, and trust me, you will be killed. He is a man of honor.”
“Honor? You obviously don’t know your father very well. Do you know what he does to his enemies, Valencia? Do you know what happens to their families? They are murdered.” In my insane anger, I’d spouted off the one thing I never wanted to inflict on the woman I was falling hard for. Fuck. Me. I realized my entire body was shaking from the ridiculous amount of rage coursing through my system.
“No! My father isn’t like that. How dare you. He’s a consummate businessman even though everyone calls him ruthless.”
“How fascinating. Yank off those rose-colored glasses, sweetheart, because your father has little esteem for human life.” Snarling, I locked my eyes with hers, my thoughts shifting toward the envelope. I tamped back my hatred of the man, refusing to fall to his brutal tactics. Perhaps the man I needed to protect her from was her own father. “He is merciless in how he handles his operations, Valencia. Never think otherwise.”
“And what makes you any less coldblooded, Miguel? Did you murder that assassin you went after? Did you cut out his heart for sheer entertainment?” When I didn’t answer right away, she laughed in a disgusted manner. “Oh, wait. Did he get away from you?”
She was pulling out all the stops, trying her best to goad me. “I am very careful in who I choose to make an enemy.”
“My God, riddles. Secrets. No doubt lies,” she huffed. “While I appreciate your concern about me, I’ll be fine.”
I exhaled, only partially surprised at her tantrum. Every time I allowed her to get close to me I pulled away, either by choice or by profession. Tonight had been no different. However, I was required to make some hard choices. “You forget your place.”
“And you have no problem reminding me.” She held her head high in an act of defiance. “My father may be difficult as well as heartless at times, but he is man with a conscience and family means more to him than anything, including the lives of women and children. He will destroy you piece by piece then rescue me.”
“That’s not going to happen, sweetheart.”
“And why is that?”
“Because, Valencia,” I said as I towered over her, my hunger off the charts. “You’re going to become my wife, preventing your father from doing one. Damn. Thing. Then no one can take you away from me or I will have no problem killing them.”
Chapter Ten
Valencia
Wife.
The man was either insane or far too self-centered.
Or both.
I’d been right before; this whole abduction thing was a scheme to be wed into my family? Maybe the money was more important, or the clout? I thought about the reasons and knew his decision had more to do with further ostracizing my father as well as thwarting his power. Did I really care? Hell, I wasn’t certain about anything any longer.
However, if he thought for even a minute that I was going to marry him, he would have a rude awakening. I could barely think straight, had difficulty accepting what he’d said, but the expression on his face screamed that he was determined keep his promise. “You’re out of your mind. I would never marry you.” I managed to get out of his grasp, taking several steps backward.
“It’s the only way I can attempt to keep you safe,” Miguel said after a few seconds.
“From my father or from your enemies?”
I could tell he was debating his answer. “I wasn’t lying to you. Your father is a ruthless man, Valencia. I have no doubt he plans on some level of retaliation against me and my family. As you can well imagine, I’m not going to allow that to happen.”
“And I’m your pawn at keeping him quiet. You’re going to force me to suffer for whatever sins you believe my father has committed.” I studied the scratches I’d inflicted, the slight trickle of blood and almost felt guilty.
Almost.
He opened his mouth, his brow furrowing then he looked away. “I’m not going to have you suffer in any regard. All I’ve asked is that you follow my rules. There are reasons for them, including security. I will do everything I can to make your life as happy as possible, all your desires fulfilled.”
“I desire to do what I want.”
The thunderous velvet tone of his voice was far too powerful, especially tonight. I’d dreamt of the man; his hard body and dark eyes, the way his full lips moved when issuing a command, and the feel of his cock buried deep inside. I shook off the continuing sensations, reminding myself that I was nothing but a possession, a tool to use against my father. Miguel would never love me. He’d never treat me as an equal. I could never tolerate that kind of a relationship. I almost laughed at the thought. He had no idea how to handle a true relationship of any kind.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” I wanted to lash out at him, to take vengeance for what I’d suspected in my heart for years. The words he’d said about my father were horrible, yet somewhere deep inside I knew the man was capable of anything. I’d heard enough, seen enough, witnessed enough to know that my father was cruel in almost every manner. For some reason, the weight of carrying such a burden crushed in on me, tears slipping past my lashes. I’d never have a normal life. That was gone, stripped away.
I placed the blame for shattering my protected glass world squarely on the shoulders of one sexy man. God, my stomach ached, the ugly tantrum I’d thrown reminiscent of my behavior around my father when I was a child. Only when I was misbehaving did I get any real attention.
Why in the hell I was resorting to such ridiculous behavior was beyond me. Maybe I was doing nothing more than pushing Miguel to the breaking point. I needed to see the real man, the one hidden behind that damn mask he always worse. Or maybe I needed to see if he was as violent and angry as my father. Either way, this wasn’t any kind of life to live.
Although I doubted I could make wishes come true. I’d never be free of the monstrous life I’d been born into, no matter the circumstances. And I’d never be able to play my beloved cello again.
“Valencia. I don’t want to argue.”
“Then leave me alone. How about that?” I attempted to skirt
around him, determined to hide under the covers.
He snapped his hand around my wrist, yanking me against the heat of his body. “Don’t you ever walk away from me again. Ever.” He was shaking from the very anger I’d feared, but almost as soon as his reaction snapped, it shifted once again, his features and demeanor softening. “I can never leave you alone, Valencia. Don’t you know that? Don’t you understand that you’ve done something to me? Your innocence and purity placed a stain on my skin that I never want to remove.”
“I’m not innocent,” I managed, fighting the various urges furrowing to the surface. Everything about him was so demanding, a man whose thirst would never be quenched, whose hunger could never be abated.
He was my kryptonite, my guilty pleasure, and I was sickened in my mind at the thought even as my body yearned desperately for him.
Miguel gathered me into his arms and I had no strength left to fight him. I was broken inside, uncertain of anything any longer. “Don’t, Miguel. Please.”
“Please what, Valencia? Please don’t care about you? Please pretend that you don’t matter to me?” He pressed his lips against my forehead, his hand holding my head in a cradled position. “I can’t and won’t do that.”
The heat of his body was extreme, the burn deep inside searing every nerve ending. I gathered his shirt into my hands, crunching my fist as I drank in his essence. Even his musky cologne was enough to pull my nipples into aching hardened buds, my pussy quivering as if his fingers had slipped into my wetness. I wanted this man. I craved this man.
I needed the beautiful yet damning bastard in a way that didn’t make any sense. He was like my life’s blood, the urge to open myself up more than I could take. My breathing ragged, I closed my eyes as he brushed his lips across my nose to my cheek, the touch feather light. I was lost in a moment of raw need, trying to rationalize how I could feel this way. Drawn to him.
Longing for him.
Everything was a blur as he shifted his lips to my jaw before dragging his tongue across the seam of my mouth. When he slid the pads of his fingers down the back of my neck, tickling the skin on my back, a moan pushed up from the very depths of my being.
