Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I’m playing with fire and I know it. “This is for your friends. I’m not going back over to that table.”
He doesn’t take the bait. All that anger from before is gone now. I don’t succeed in rankling him the way I want to.
With a light chuckle, he sets the champagne bucket on the bar, and the movement forces me to take a step back until I’m essentially caged in between him and the biting wood at my back. He’s so much bigger than me; I can’t help but feel a pulse of fear.
I furrow my brows and glare up at him. I hold up my hand, prepared to push him away, but he captures my wrist and slowly twists my arm so he can see the inside of my elbow.
My tattoo.
“What is this?” His tone is harsh. My new ink bothers him more than my shoving the champagne at him.
I can’t help but match his energy. “What does it look like?”
His eyes flare with irritation as he looks me over, his gaze sliding across my body with clinical assessment. “Mierda. Tell me that’s all you did. Nothing’s pierced? No tattoos somewhere else?”
I laugh lightly. “No.”
It’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I lift a brow in defiance. Does he want proof? Not happening. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”
His attention returns to my arm, and he skims his hand higher so that, intentionally or not, his thumb brushes the sensitive skin just beneath my tattoo. I shiver and he must notice, because his hand tightens.
“Eso fue una tontería. Foolish,” he says with annoyance. His tone douses the lick of desire his touch was eliciting, and I’m actually grateful for it. It’s easier to think when he’s not overwhelming me.
I yank my arm out of his hold. “Getting a tattoo?” I look pointedly at the few he has. “How hypocritical coming from you…”
“It’s stupid to get one impulsively. Not every place is reputable. If you’d talked to me about it, I would have given you the name of a good studio here on the island.”
I find it frustrating that he doesn’t trust that I would have taken the time to do my own research. “It turned out fine. It’s healing perfectly, and the tattoo artist was great.”
He’s looking down at it again, his head tilted to the side, giving me a perfect view of his clean-shaven square jaw.
“What is it?”
Oh-ho. No. He’s not getting a piece of me that easily.
My smile is full of sugary sass. “A secret.”
“A secret?” His eyes narrow, and he nods. Then, “From now on, one of my bouncers walks you home if I’m not here.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
Where did that come from?
He gestures to my arm. “Clearly you’ve proved to be reckless getting a tattoo like that. I made a promise to your grandmother that I would watch out for you, and I won’t go back on my word.” His tone lowers when he tacks on, “No more tattoos.”
What a smug asshole! I lean in until our chests brush, lifting my chin so I can look him directly in the eyes when I speak up, fiercely declaring, “I’ll get a hundred more tattoos if I want them.”
I almost finish with a petulant You’re not the boss of me, but I swallow it at the last moment because unfortunately, right now he is.
When I’m about to push past him, he stops me with his large hand on my hip. I can feel the heat of it through my clothes. Then his head bends lower, in line with mine.
His voice is barely a whisper against the shell of my ear, but I still feel it like a threat. “Don’t test me, Isabel. Don’t be foolish.”
Flushed with anger, I can’t help but fire back. “Oh. I think I finally understand…” I say it with a little teasing smile like I’ve just had a huge revelation. “You want to be my babysitter, don’t you? This isn’t some favor you’re doing. You’re itching for it.” I walk my fingers up his chest. It’s completely brazen and I’ve never behaved like this in my entire life, but I can’t seem to rein it in. “Fine. Be my guest. You can make someone walk me home and order me around all you want, and all the while, I’ll hate you for it.”
OH MY GOD.
Common sense is screaming at me to shut up, but I can’t. I’m showing him I’m capable of playing this game. I’m channeling Winnie, listening to my tattoo and doing what she would do in this situation. She would never allow Cristiano to steamroll over her.
Gently, like he’s touching a baby bird, his hand rises to cup my jaw. Too late, I realize that though his touch isn’t cruel, it’s a warning all the same. I shiver as he tips my chin up and lowers his face until our mouths almost meet. His eyes dart back and forth between mine, searching for something. Suddenly every nerve ending in my body is firmly in his grasp. I have no fight left in me, only warm, beckoning desire.