"Get dressed," he growls, a threat lacing his tone like he’s daring me not to do it. "Now."
I let the towel fall completely.
For one agonizing second, he doesn't move. He doesn't even blink as he just stares. I don’t know who’s surprised more at my deliberate act…him or me? His jaw remains clenched so tight I can see the muscle jump as his eyes devour my body. They rake lower over my breasts, stomach and thighs leaving a fire wherever they touch. He turns away just as quickly before speaking over his shoulder.
"Five minutes. Downstairs."
The door slams shut behind him and I stand naked in the middle of my room with my heart racing and skin flushed. The look on his face…God. It’s as if he wanted to consume me whole. And boy would I let him.
A laugh bubbles up unexpectedly. For the first time in days, I feel something other than anger. I feel powerful. I played with fire and didn't get burned…not yet, anyway. I dress quickly, choosing a sundress with a flowing skirt and thin straps that show off my shoulders. There’s nothing underneath but bare skin and lacy panties. Let him imagine what could be underneath when he looks at me.
Downstairs, Frankie waits in the living room, typing away on his cell phone. He doesn't turn when I enter, but I know he hears me. His shoulders tense minutely as I look at his cellphone longingly. He doesn’t even mention what just happened upstairs.
"Come on," he says with a clipped voice.
"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to sound casual. "Isn't it a little late to be going out?"
He turns then, eyes carefully avoiding mine.
"Pita says you haven't left your room in days. I'm getting you the fresh air you seek so badly." His mouth quirks, almost a smile. "Unless you prefer to stay here in your prison?"
‘Was that a joke?’
"No," I say quickly, almost too eagerly. "I want to go out. Anywhere."
I catch the ghost of a smirk before he schools his features back to neutral. He gestures toward the door, and I follow him out to the waiting SUV.
In the car, I can't help stealing glances at his profile. His sharp jaw, the shadow of stubble and the tattoos disappearing beneath his collar. What would it be like to trace them with my fingertips? My tongue? There’s a small cut on his eyebrow today but it looks like it must have already been stitched. I wonder if Rio hurts him like my uncle sometimes does his own men?
"Is there something on my face?" he asks suddenly, catching me staring.
Heat floods my cheeks.
"No," I mutter, turning away.
‘Change the subject, Liana.’
"Where have you been the past few days?"
"I had work to attend to."
"I thought I was your job?"
The words come out more vulnerable than I intended and I catch his eyes flicking to mine, then back to the road.
"You are not my only job,Datura."
I scowl at the nickname, turning to watch the darkness rush past my window. Always that word. Always that reminder that I'm something poisonous. Why couldn’t he have called me beautiful or sexy even?
‘Because you’re engaged, Liana. To his boss.’
After just a few minutes, we pull into a parking lot that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. But in the distance, I can see lights…beautiful blue, purple and green glowing against the night sky.
"What is this place?" I ask as I step out of the SUV, unable to hide my awe.
Frankie comes around to my side, standing close enough that I can feel his heat.
"Las Noches de las Luminarias," he says, the Spanish flowing smoothly from his lips. Something about his slang is sexy, alluring even. I want to hear him speak his language more.
