No man has ever done that before. I’m certain he felt my reaction because now his hand presses against the top of my hips as we enter the elevator. He positions me so that his right shoulder is slightly in front of me. It looks like we’re standing side by side, but it would only take one step for him to shift and block me from anyone entering the elevator. Fortunately, it doesn’t stop until we get to the ground floor.
He ushers me toward a vehicle as he uses the fob to pop open the trunk. He opens the front passenger door first and holds it open for me. I slide in and twist toward him, but he gently closes the door before walking around to put the box in the trunk.
A pang of guilt strikes me as I think about my father’s hand rattling around in the trunk by itself. It seems so inhumane. But I can’t picture sitting here with the box in my lap or between my feet like it was Thing from theAddams Family.
I nearly jump out of my skin when he opens the door. I hear my name, but I don’t react. Another moment of mental paralysis strikes me.
“Liesel.”
He rests his hand on my thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze. When I only turn my head to stare at him, he reaches acrossme and snaps the belt into place, adjusting it so it doesn’t rub against my neck before he puts his own on.
“Thank you.”
That’s the last thing either of us says until we reach his hotel, which is blessedly only a couple miles away. We’re there in ten minutes. We pull into the hotel’s underground parking garage, and he backs into the spot. It dawns on me this must be a strategic move in case he should ever need to leave somewhere in a hurry. That’s both frightening and reassuring, as though I need any more complex or conflicting emotions right now.
“Stay in the car until I come around to your side.”
I nod. He gets out and goes to the trunk, retrieving the box. I remember it struck me as odd when I arrived and found it on my desk after lunch. Johan said he didn’t see who delivered it because he’d also gone out to lunch.
Jorge opens my door, and I unfasten my belt. He offers me his hand, and I gladly take it. It’s warm and dry, which makes me worry mine might be clammy. But if it is, he doesn’t seem to notice. It’s reassuring the way it’s so large it practically swallows mine completely. He lets go entirely too soon, but his hand goes back to the small of my back once he’s pressed the elevator button. When we step inside, he angles us the same way he did the last time.
It shouldn’t surprise me he’s in a penthouse suite. When we step off the elevator, I notice the men outside his door. They must be his guards. I refuse to look weak in front of anybody since I trust no one but Jorge right now. I lift my chin and push my shoulders back and look straight ahead.
Jorge unlocks the door, but before I can walk fully into the suite, his arm goes out in front of me, blocking my way. He places the box on the entryway table before looking around the room. He pokes his head into the bedroom before tilting it. Isuppose he can see into the bathroom from there. He does the same thing with the other bedroom.
It reassures me as much as it frightens me. Doesn’t he trust the men outside the door? Aren’t they there to keep anyone else out?
“Liesel, old habits die hard. Unless it’s someone else in my family sweeping a room, I’ll never be comfortable without looking around. It’s not a reflection on my men so much as proof that my uncles’ ingrained their training in me.”
My mind is clearer than before Jorge arrived at my office, but my ability to speak hasn’t fully returned. I feel like a bobblehead when all I do is nod. He returns to stand before me. He reaches past me to shut and bolt the door, then he places his hands on the outside of my shoulders just like before he hugged me in my office. His hold is light, but it bolsters me.
“You’re safe with me, Liesel. I promise.”
That forces a choked laugh from me. “If you were a safe man, Jorge, I wouldn’t have called you.”
His gaze intensifies as it sweeps over me before returning to meet mine. “Safe with me,chiquita, not from me. Obey me, and we won’t have any problems.”
Even in a moment like this—when I’m terrified for my family and confused about what the fuck is happening—he can make my pussy ache with a look and a few words. He tempts me to reply with “Yes, sir,” but I remain quiet.
“Would you feel better if I ordered you a cheeseburger and some fries? Would it distract you for a bit?”
Wait. A cheeseburger and fries? How does he know I like those? That they’re comfort foods. They have been since grad school.
He’s been following me. I suspected it, but that confirms it.
Panic rises from the tips of my toes, churning in my belly, making my chest burn, and brain scream “RUN.”
My gaze sweeps around my surroundings. I want out. Now. There’s no way I can make it to the door with him near it. I edge around him, and he watches me. It’s not like he’s the predator, and I’m the prey. But he observes me intently. It’s as though he knows what I’m thinking, and he’s indulging me. That irritates the fuck out of me.
I consider running to a bedroom and locking myself in. If I bolt, he’ll catch me. Instead, I ease my way toward the far wall. It gets me farther from the door, but it’ll allow me to see everything in front of me. It’ll keep one side of me protected.
“Liesel, stay away from the windows.”
It’s a command he expects me to obey. I should. But I need space from him. I’m not thinking clearly yet, so all I know is I want distance.
“Liesel.”
I ignore him and back up, not taking my eyes off him. He allows me to—until I step in front of a window. He crosses the floor between us before wrapping his arm around me. He pulls me against him, turning us, so his back is to the window until we move away from it. I stare at the tie knotted in front of me, and my mind flashes to it loosened with his shirt’s top button undone. It’s hard to imagine him being that casual.
