Page 19 of Desperate Measures
There’s nothing more I can do for the time being. At least on Balthazar’s side of things, I have everything locked down. Most of his men were only too happy to jump sides. He made the cardinal mistake of not taking care of his own people, of looking to his wealth first and theirs not at all. It’s why I chose him when I came to Carver City. There are other players that move just out of sight of the everyday world, some of them with more territory and more power than Balthazar, but he was the only one prime for the picking.
The fact that I laid eyes on his daughter and wanted her for mine barely came into the decision.
I check my watch. Yasmina’s appointment with Tink should be long since wrapped up. The blond is a pain in the ass, but she’s the best in the business and discrete enough when it comes right down to it. She might go toe-to-toe with every single person she comes across, but she doesn’t talk about clients with other people.
I have no intention of keeping Yasmina a secret. What’s the point of possessing a rare desert flower if no one knows it exists? After tonight, no one worth mentioning will doubt that she’s a prize worthy of burning cities to the ground over—or that she’s already been claimed.
It doesn’t take long to make it back to my building. I prefer to keep my operations as close as possible to the center of Balthazar’s territory to stay on top of things. My territory now. It’s important to keep one’s thumb on the pulse of a place, and the only way to do that is to be neck-deep in it. If Balthazar had done that instead of living off in his mansion, he might have given me more of a challenge.
Possibly.
One of my men, Luke, meets me in the parking garage. “She’s in the pool.”
I nod my acknowledgment and head up. By now, she should be getting ready for our night, and her continued rebellion, though small, has my entire body going tight in anticipation. Yasmina is nothing if not a challenge, and that won’t change anytime soon. The problem is striking the right balance of challenge and obedience. That we haven’t accomplished yet. That will take time.
Time we don’t have. Not with Ali circling.
The man should have been the least of my opponents. He’s new enough to be shiny, all brash smiles and bold statements he has no way of backing up. It should have been simple to remove him and clear the path forward. And yet he’s the most dangerous enemy I have currently. If Ali won’t take the defeat lying down…
Jeremiah will deal with it.
Should he fail—something he’s never done to date—then I’ll handle it personally.
I head into the pool area and stop just inside the door. The pool is meant more for recreation than for exercise, but Yasmina cuts through the water with the determination of an Olympic swimmer. I lean against the wall, enjoying this quiet moment of just watching. Yasmina and I have interacted countless times over the last five years, but they were always barbed comments that felt like a particular kind of inside joke. I was never able to just…be in her presence. There was always someone watching, always some enemy skirting too close to the truth.?1
In most cases, the enemy was me, but that changes nothing.
I want this new normal. She’s going to fight me until the day we die, but tonight will shift things in my favor. Yasmina fights because that’s all she knows how to do—dig in her heels and make moving her more trouble than it’s worth. I need to demonstrate the benefits of bending to my will. I relish the fight, yes, but she has to bend.
She finally registers that she’s no longer alone and stops, treading water. “Jafar.”
“Yasmina.” I relish the wariness in her eyes. She’s always looked at me like that, as if she sees beneath the carefully cultivated exterior to the man beneath. As if she knows exactly how dangerous I am, but she’s not going to let that stop her from going a round or two with me. That look is what drew me to her in the first place. Beautiful women exist all over the world, but one who truly sees me? Priceless.
I slip my hands into my pockets. “It would be a shame if we’re late.”
She shivers, obviously registering the threat beneath the mild words. “Do you honestly expect me to walk around naked when I’m not wearing one of those dresses?”
“I happen to prefer you naked.”
Her dark eyes flash. “Is that so? I’m sure your men prefer the same.” She swims to the shallow end, never breaking eye contact, and walks up the steps toward me.
Fuck, but she looks like a siren sent solely to torment me. As she rises out of the water, it cascades down her light-brown skin, tracing a path I fully intend to follow with my mouth. In time. Her brown nipples are peaked, and goose bumps rise over her skin as the water reaches her hips, her thighs, and finally she’s standing before me, defiant to the very end.
“My men know better.” Despite my best efforts, my voice deepens, giving away my reaction.
Yasmina wrings out her hair and flips it over her shoulder. “Maybe at first. But normalcy breeds complacency. Eventually, they’ll start looking. They won’t be able to help themselves.” She reaches up and tugs on my tie, straightening it. “Eventually they’ll be tempted to touch.”
She’s baiting me.
Even knowing that, possessive feelings rise to the fore. “It’ll be their life in payment for that touch.”
“So dramatic.” She tsks and moves away, giving me a view of her generous ass. An ass that could send a man to his knees in order to worship it properly.
I shake my head, pushing away my desire. Attempting to.
Yasmina scoops up a white towel and starts drying her hair. “There’s an easy solution, Jafar. Give me clothes. Then you don’t have to worry about your men staring at my pussy every time I bend over.” She gives me an innocent look, all large eyes and pouting lips. “I bend over a lot. It’s distracting them.”
“Show me.”
