Page 28 of Wicked Mistletoe

He smirks as he hunches down in front of me. “Where would the surprise be if we acted it out now? It will happen when you least expect it.” He raises his hand to my face and rubs his thumb across my cheek before leaning forward to give me a soft, drugging kiss that has my eyelids fluttering.

He pulls back, still smiling, and helps me to my feet. Then with a final tap on my ass, he sends me on my way.

I leave the supermarket, his gift clenched tightly in my arms. Once I’m in my car, I have to take a moment to gather myself. Then my gaze drops to the mysterious package and curiosity piques—I need to see what’s in there.

Pulling off the green bow on top, I carefully tear through the wrapper and lift the cover. A scandalized gasp escapes me when I see what’s inside.

A matching wardrobe of red panties and lace gold bras, all with star knots—kind of like a ribbon knot across where my nipples would be—and green suspenders. There are three pairs of the identical lingerie and a note:

Start wearing these tomorrow. Make sure you always have them on. I want to unwrap that tight little body when I get my hands on you.

Twin flames warm my cheeks as I finger the sexy underwear. Then I cover the box up and place it on the passenger seat. With a shaky exhale, I start the car, mind racing.

Whatever happens next, one thing is clear—Rafael has the power to turn my world upside down with just a few words. And I’m powerless to resist.

8

RAFAEL

I watch Emilia’s taillights fade into the distance with a mix of satisfaction and unease churning in my gut. As soon as she’s out of sight, I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial. It’s time to get some goddamn answers.

“It’s late, Rafael.” Landon, one of the best hackers on my retainer, grumbles through the speaker. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

I snort. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides, it’s barely 9 PM, the night’s still young, and we’ve got work to do.”

“Let me guess. Emilia Rossi?”

“Bingo. I need you to keep looking into her.”

There’s a short pause on his end, then, “Didn’t you find her? I’m sure she flew into the city last week; I swear I sent you?—”

“Yeah, yeah, I found her.” I cut him off. “But something’s not adding up. I need you to dig deeper into what she’s been up to for the past five years.”

My jaw clenches as I replay our encounter. That effortless way she whipped out her gun—it was too fast, too smooth. Too practiced. Where the hell did she learn to handle a weapon like that?

Landon sighs heavily. “Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do and get back to you next week.”

“No. That’s too long. You have until the end of this week.”

“But—”

“I’m not paying you to take scenic routes, Landon. I want results.”

I end the call before he can protest, then make my way toward the back of the supermarket where the security room is.

My mind races as I walk. The pieces don’t fit, and it’s driving me fucking insane. For years, I couldn’t find a damn thing about her, no matter how hard I dug. Then suddenly, her records pop up out of nowhere, like they were just sitting there waiting for me, and they’re so clean.Too clean.Nah, something’s not right.

I shake my head, still mulling it over as I enter the security room. One quick swipe and all footage of the last hour is erased. I’m not letting some curious and overzealous employee get an eyeful of my intimate moment with Emilia. No one gets to see her fall apart except forme. Satisfied, I adjust my suit jacket, making sure I look sharp before stepping out.

After locking up the supermarket and setting the alarm, I make my way around the building to the private lot where my car is parked.

As I get in, my phone vibrates with a text.

Michael

I think I might have found something about our kidnapper.

That has my full attention. Immediately, I dial his number, connecting my phone to my car’s speaker as I fire up the engine. He answers on the third ring.

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