Page 80 of Hostile Rival
Blanco knows I would have set up a sniper rifle and blown a hole in Tomás Souza’s skull a long time ago. Unluckily for me, the Souza brothers are Blanco’s godsons.
Ironically, he takes the promise he made before God very seriously, even though he’s a merciless cartel leader. As compensation, he loaded me up with guns, ammunition, and his full permission to hunt and kill the Souza men who had murdered Margo.
That alone was enough to start a war between the two families.
“Daniela, this is not the time to disobey me. There are certain things I’d like to discuss with the boy now he’s ready to make his mark on the world.”
My mouth goes dry. “What sort of things?”
“Things you don’t need to trouble yourself with at the moment. Your task is bringing him to me.”
“I’m only asking, because he wouldn’t willingly have a meeting with you. None of the Souzas would.”
“You managed to handle a Souza once before. You’ll do it again because you’re the best, aren’t you, Daniela? I have faith in you.”
His words of praise trickle through me, warm and powerful. He’s right. But something has changed inside of me. “What makes you think he’d come with me?”
“Oh, Daniela…” Blanco’s tone hardens. “You’ll do whatever it takes since this is an opportunity to benefitourfamilia. Get the job done and do not let me down.”
I stand in the middle of the bedroom, hearing the sound of running water from the shower.
Matheus had separated the beds while I was talking to Blanco outside. He had made both his and mine, then returned his single bed to the opposite side of the room where it belongs. He also ate half of the toast and left the rest on my bedside table.
The armor I’d slotted around me starts melting away even more. I shouldn't have this heaviness in my heart, this unsettling pain of detachment. I like having him close to me.
Immediately, I curse myself for that thought and glare at my phone, wanting to throw it at the wall. Blanco’s order was clear. Bring Matheus to him by whatever means necessary.
I walk to the bathroom door and press my hand against it, listening…itching to barge inside. I should run for the hills.
Forced restraint tenses my muscles and has my adrenaline pumping. And then I let the red-hot need in my core take over.
Fuck it.
Flinging the door open, I stroll toward the glass panels, slip out of the robe, and let it fall to my feet. I glance down at the dressing and take a guess it’s waterproof. They usually are.
When I look up again, he’s standing under the jets, rinsing the suds from his hair, eyes closed, and seemingly ignoring me.
God, I want him so badly.
My heart is pounding now, afraid of the urgent desire to kiss him as it hisses through me. Steam blurs his muscular form and swirls out the door as I slowly crack it open, giving into temptation all over again.
There’s no other reason for joining him, other than me craving his attention.
Slowly, he slants out of the spray with his eyes open and a halo of chestnut crowning pitch black pupils. His expression doesn’t change, the soft crease on his brow the only indication that he’s processing my arrival.
His eyes narrow on the dressing I’ve purposefully sheltered from the water by angling away from the jets. I step into him, our bodies so very close, but not touching, and study the rise and fall of his chest.
I stare up at him.
He stares down at me.
My pulse flickers in the heavy silence. Matheus always has words for me.
Without speaking, he depresses a shampoo pump that’s sitting on an inset shelf and squirts a generous amount onto his hand. Rubbing it between his palms, he approaches me and sinks his fingers into the wet lengths, slowly massaging my scalp.
I close my eyes and let my rigid shoulders fall. A crazy reaction for a woman who doesn't trust anyone.
Warm water and bliss pours over me. I lean into him, placing my hands on his chest, and fully aware of the excruciating feeling of falling for him.
