Page 688 of One More Kiss

My eyelashes flick up when metal rollers glide and the storm grows louder, erupting indoors. Before I have time to consider my next move, a beam of light shines into the stall, brightening the space with me in it. I squint, automatically lifting my hand to shade my eyes. The echoey clank of a sliding bolt rings in my ears like a death toll and then the flashlight lowers.

“Get up.” Tomás’ rich velveteen voice has a new husky edge—a sexy rasp of tiredness and acrimony.

My head swoops up, our eyes clashing as he stands there. Goosebumps run over my spine at the harshness of his order. He glowers at me from the gate, bare torso dripping and low-slung jersey shorts saturated. His golden necklace and matching bracelet are the only items next to his smooth skin. The suave businessman is underdressed, but still every bit as dominant.

I massage my heart where wild flutters bump into my struggling lungs and inch back into the shadowy corner of my holding cell so he’s oblivious to my inspection of him. He doesn’t need to know how my pulse reacts to the seductive scent of a freshly showered bad guy or how my insides flip from the way he oozes authority.

With the thunderstorm now overhead, his features are cloaked in intermittent streaks of lightning. Bountiful water droplets decant from the contours of solid abdominal muscles that lead all the way to an elastic waistband. A kingly posture defies fairness, feet parted and shoulders drawn back, expecting my acquiescence.

It’s hard to fathom how this semi-naked version of Tomás Souza is more impressive than when he is clothed in an impeccable designer suit.

But he is. Unbearably so.

“Where are you taking me?” I sit up, returning his unfriendly expression with one of my own.

He doesn’t reply.

“Is this another stupid challenge?” I hiss, throwing the blanket off, preparing to stand. “Let me guess. You’re going to tie me to a tree as a human sacrifice for the devil and engineer a streak of lightning to split me in two?”

My suggestion earns a dark grunt. “I don’t need to sell my soul to the devil, Carina. He’s already in me,” his sonorous cadence rumbles in tandem with a strike of lightning. “However, now you’ve suggested it, perhaps it might be the answer to your lack of fucking respect.”

I bounce onto both feet, the rip of knitting flesh forcing my teeth to clench. A trickle of blood runs the length of my shin. “Excuse me? Did you actually say the word respect? I have every right to be pissed off after what you did to me.”

“Perhaps I should rethink my generosity?”

“Generosity?” My voice raises a decibel higher in disbelief. “You’re insane if you think any of this is generous.”

“You’re still alive,” he points out flatly as a roll of thunder depicts his brewing mood. “Unfortunately, I don't have any mastery over Mother Nature, so electrocution isn’t in the cards. However, I do have authority over you while you’re in my domain.” A smug curl to the corner of his mouth makes my heart beat faster.

I cross my arms over my breasts, wondering if he’s here to taunt me with his good looks or put a bullet in my skull. Neither being acceptable. “Where are you taking me in the middle of a tropical storm?”

He cocks a brow and shakes his head, the low chuckle deep in his throat terrifying. “Something tells me I should keep an eye on you. Follow me and you’ll find out.”

“No…” I say breathlessly. “I won’t go anywhere with you until you tell me where we’re going.”

In three brisk strides, his wet torso is so close that I can smell sweet alcohol on his warm breath. “You’re going indoors. Into the main house.” There’s a hoarseness to his tone, as if he’s suffered a million nights of unrest and drained too many bottles of bitterness.

I suck in a quick breath and fix my shoulders, pretending the intensity doesn’t affect me. “Are you taking me to him… to your father?”

The whites of his eyes glisten with concealment, a halo of pretty opal circles reticent ebony. A low hum of thought escapes his throat as he observes me. “My father enjoyed one too many glasses of his favorite cognac. He’s currently sleeping it off.”

A long sigh drifts from my mouth, not from defeat, but from a rush. The second it covers his skin, I notice a flurry of goosebumps electrify his sinewy shoulders.

“If you’re not taking me to him, then why bring me inside against his wishes?” I swallow in a gulp. “This is just a game to you, isn’t it? And you know what I think?” His lips tighten and he stays perfectly still, harsh words held on his tongue, waiting for my unruly rant to end. “You’re worse than your father, because you thrive on psychological torture.”

He makes a sexy grunt noise—part annoyance, part frustration. “Stop talking.” The pad of his forefinger presses over my lips. “Perhaps I should teach you manners while you belong to me.” The statement hangs in the charged air around us, crackling and hissing with tension.

I try not to squirm or even blink, to stand tall in the face of a reigning prince. “Belong to you?” My jaw clenches.

If he senses even a wisp of weakness, he’d celebrate his success with even more humiliation. As if cowering before a wild animal, on the precipice of near death wasn’t enough. Now he’s looming over me with temptation radiating from his black aura.

“I do not belong to anyone. Least of all you.”

Fire flashes in his brown-black eyes. “If you want to live, Carina Ferreira, then you’ll do exactly what I tell you to do.” His body crowds me. The only contact is his firmly placed finger, now tilting my chin. “Walk out of here and stay close. Do not utter a single word until I permit these lips of yours to open.”

The tense vibrations from him give off wavering control. It makes me wonder if he’s fighting the same unrighteous desire. If we’re both drowning in a tempestuous ocean of forbidden fascination.

“If you’re going to kill me, why the hell would I obey you?”

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