Page 15 of Precious Hazard

“You have a choice to make, Tara. Make the wrong one, and you’ll find yourself facing one of three potential outcomes. Option number one: Stavros’s body is discovered by New York’s finest, along with the murder weapon with your prints on it.” I seize her chin, letting the pad of my thumb brush over her lower lip.

So soft. Much softer than I imagined it would be.

“Two… I’ll simply killyou. Make your body disappear without a trace. That would certainly solve more than one ofmyproblems.” The death threat is a bluff, but I let her see the truth of my next words. “I will not have my loyalty or commitment questioned. Iwillobey my don and marry the woman of his choosing. But that won’t be necessary, of course, if my intended bride isn’t among the living anymore.”

That plump lip beneath my thumb starts quivering. Tara blinks, and two tears slide down her cheeks. My eyes trace their paths over her flawless, rosy skin. Not so tough, after all. I knew she wouldn’t be. Although, in the minute after I shot that son of a bitch for hitting her, she surprised me. She stood perfectly still. Didn’t scream. Didn’t flee like most other women would have.

But the two glistening droplets making tracks across her flesh don’t lie, even though Tara remains mute.

“So my advice to you is to take option three,” I continue. “In less than two months, you’ll walk down the aisle. You’ll smile, and when prompted, you’ll say ‘I do.’ Do you understand?”

Another tear breaks its confinement, falling like scalding acid on my skin. Any second now, her tough girl act will dissolve, and she’ll go into a complete meltdown. She’ll agree to the marriage, and she’ll beg me to get rid of that gun.

Her lips part ever so slightly, like she’s ready to utter the words. For a fleeting moment, the tip of her tongue connects with the pad of my thumb. That faintest touch sends a jolt of electricity straight to my cock.

It takes me several heartbeats to register the pain. It’s not in my dick, but rather my thumb, trapped between Tara’s sharp, white teeth. The crazy woman bit me! I yank my hand back and lunge toward her, wrapping my other hand around her throat. Leaning into her face, I growl, “You’re a damn savage. Just like the rest of your lot.”

“Fuck you!” she snaps while her hands fly to my face and she tries to jam my eyes back into my skull with her thumbs. “You tricked me, you bastard!”

“Ma sei impazzita!” I grab her wrists, pulling her hands off me. My actions force her off-balance, and she falls forward, bumping her forehead into mine.

“Ouch!” she cries out and tries to free her hands.

I tighten my grip on her slender wrists, not enough to hurt her, but sufficiently so she can’t escape. Her forearms get trapped between our bodies as I pull her against my chest.

A big error on my part.

Our foreheads are still pressed together, and the tip of her tiny nose is brushing mine. I have no choice but to stare directly into the mystical green orbs that are a mere hairsbreadth away. They stare back.

The sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo engulfs me, further fucking with my mind. I would have expected the stench of brimstone and burned sage from a witch like her, definitely not mouthwatering summer berries.

Her warm, rapid breaths fan my face, setting off tingles across my lips. Trying to kill the sensation before it spreads, I scrape my tongue and teeth over my bottom lip. The only thing it does is make me yearn to find out how she tastes. Sweet or bitter? Probably a fusion of both.

And then, a different craving surfaces. I want to know what it would be like to have this hellcat in my bed. Would she purr? Mewl sweetly? Or would she hiss and scratch my back?

Knowing Tara as little as I do, I’m betting onbothin this, also.

“Let go of me, Satan,” she sneers through her teeth.

I raise an eyebrow. “Satan?”

“DeVille. Devil. Satan. Suits you to a tee.”

A corner of my mouth twitches. I shouldn’t find her so damn amusing. She’s feral, rude, and childish. The exact opposite of the women I’m attracted to. So why the fuck am I fantasizing about having her under me? About ravaging that sassy mouth just to shut her up?

Reluctantly, I release her. The moment she’s free, she pushes away, scooching as far from me on the seat as possible. Her short-sleeved white top is spattered with blood, and there are smears on her face, too. I grab a box of tissues and a bottle of water from the door pocket and set the items on the seat between us.

“Use this to clean yourself up.”

She doesn’t look at me as she pulls out a tissue and begins to gingerly wipe her left cheek. The one that’s reddened by Katrakis’s hand but unmarred by his blood.

I clench my teeth and grab another tissue, splashing a bit of water on the napkin. “Look at me.”

“Nope.”

“Tara.”

“What?” She turns toward me.

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