“Mr. Cierro —”
“That’s Sir to you, and the answer is no. He comes home tonight, and that’s final.”
His correction momentarily threw me off, but I could feel the frustration building again, the urge to argue, to protest further. With another breath, I grasped for calm. “You’re not listening. He’s fragile. He needs —”
“I said, no.” The temperature in the room feels like it drops from the ice in his words. His eyes are cold again, his jaw set. “Be very careful with your next words, Chloe.”
It is the first time I hear my name on his lips, and it provokes a warmth deep inside me that it shouldn’t have. The feeling causes me to lick my own lips, which only makes his eyes drop to them, watching my movement. I should probably stop, should back down, shut up, let it go, but I can’t.
“Then let me come with him.” The words are out before I fully comprehend them.
“Excuse me?” His eyes dart back to mine, a slight shock present now.
“Let me come with you.”
“I don’t bring in outsiders.” He pushes back from the wall, turning to leave.
“Why not? You just said you want what is best for him. I can help him adjust —”
I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before he pivots back to face me, stalking back at me with menace. I try to back away further, but there’s nowhere left to go as my back hits the wall. And he’s still coming at me. He doesn’t stop until he has me pinned between his body and the wall.
He is close enough that I have to tip my head back to look up into his eyes, but not quite touching. He crosses his arms over my head, leaning against the wall on his elbows as he glares down at me. The position is both intimate and aggressive.
My heart hammers in my chest, my breath coming out shorter.God help me…
“Let me make something very clear to you, Chloe.” There it is again, my name on his lips. Even as he threatens me, it causesan undeniable response, warming my core. “You do not want to be on my bad side. I have spent twenty-eight days searching for my son. Twenty-eight days of dead ends, false leads, and lying awake each night, imagining finding him dead in a ditch somewhere. Twenty-eight days of my own personal hell.”
He leans closer as he speaks, his body pressing against me. I can see the flecks of grey within his blue eyes and smell his aftershave; I can feel the musculature of his thighs beneath his slacks.
“So when I finally — finally,” the word comes out as a primal growl, “find him, when I have him back after thinking I’d lost him forever, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not particularly interested in your opinions on how I should parent.”
His proximity has my pulse racing, my skin on fire, and I’m acutely aware of the lack of space between us as his weight leans into me.
“I’m not trying to tell you how to parent,” I manage, barely able to keep the quiver from my voice. “I just want Emmanuel to get what he needs.”
“And pray tell, what exactly is that?” He leans even closer until his lips are brushing my ear. His voice is dropping to a husky whisper that makes my knees weak.
Oh God,I am in so much trouble. My breathing is ragged, uneven, and for a split second, I think I may just pass out. Untilsuddenly, I’m free of the pressure, the heat. Basili pushes off the wall and steps away from me, his eyes meeting mine once more.
“You have one month.” That is all he says before turning toward the door. I watch him in silence for a long moment, my brain reeling from the emotions running rampant within me.
“Wait,” I finally manage, pushing away from the wall to pursue him, “what?”
He stops at the door, flicking the lock open, clearly done with the conversation. Panic floods me.What does he mean by one month?
“You heard me,” he says, pausing with his hand on the handle. “You can stay with us for one month, but you follow my rules without question and without defiance. You respect my word as law, or you’re out. Understood?”
“Yes,” I manage
“Good,” he says with a nod, opening the door before saying over his shoulder, “I’ll give you one hour. Then I’m taking my son home, with or without you.”
“An hour?” I exclaim, raising to the doorway, watching him retreat down the hall. “That’s not enough time to —”
He glances at his watch impatiently. “Fifty-nine minutes now. I suggest you hurry.”
And then he is gone, leaving me alone in Jay’s office with my heart still racing and my mind spinning like the wheels on a runaway train.
Chapter Four
