Today hadn’t gone as planned, well not the way I’d envisaged it would. A quick picnic, a quick fuck, that’s all I was prepared to give. I didn’t do carnivals, riding a Ferris wheel or indulging in greasy food, yet somehow, she’d made me do it. And that was the most dangerous part of all.
She was supposed to be a one-time fuck, now I wasn’t quite sure what she represented. Lorenzo saw it, Dario saw it and as much as I hated to admit it, Rayden too.
Me though, I’d taken because I chose to, I kept her because she was mine, but now I wanted her for reasons I didn’t understand, reasons I couldn’t afford to explore.
She was defiant, reckless, and too fucking tempting. She pushed me, fought me, yet submitted beautifully. She made me want things I’ve never wanted before. Logic suggested I let her go, but when she looked at me with eyes that promised something I didn’t know I wanted, whispered my name like I belonged to her, I knew she was no longer a simple fuck.
“Where are we?” her question pulled my attention.
“My home.” The estate rose around us, dark and ominous as I guided the car toward the main door.
She laughed. “How many estates do you actually have?”
“Plenty.” I looked at her, shutting down the engine. “This is a place no one comes to unless I want them here.” Although not fully lived in by anyone except our soldiers, it was used more for business meetings, stockpiling our armory and product reserves.
“I’m honored but I have surgery early tomorrow morning and Ajay’s visiting me.”
My jaw tightened. I chose my words carefully because anything softer would’ve been a confession. “You’re staying here tonight.” She opened her mouth to protest and I added, “it’s not a suggestion.”
Frowning, her eyes searched my face, reading what I wasn’t saying. The tension. The restraint wound too tight. The aftershock I had yet to shake.
“What do you want from me?” She exhaled a frustrated breath.
“Thought I already made that clear.” I opened the door as the property lights switched on and Rogan, the estate head, descended the three stairs to my side.
“Welcome, Mr. Rossi, I wasn’t expecting you.” His smile said he wasn’t surprised since Lorenzo, Dario and I mostly visited when we planned to kill someone important, who’d be missed and never found unless the flourishing green grounds could speak. “You brought a guest?” He tilted his head to look inside the car.
I followed his gaze, amusement creeping across my face. Arms folded, chin tilted in that usual defiance, Ishika still sat in the car. I opened the door. “Are you coming or should I carry you out?”
She leveled me with a glare. “If you don’t take me back now, I’ll call a cab.”
“Good luck.” I shrugged, heading indoors.
“No one will come through those gates, Miss, no one who values their lives.” I heard Rogan advise her.
The sharp bang of a door tipped my lips into a soft smile. Fuck, this woman’s sass was something else, the only one to match my hot to cold switch in a matter of minutes.
“You don’t date. You don’t soften. You don’t pretend. So what was tonight?” She threw over her shoulder, already pulling the tie from her hair and stomped toward the staircase with a purpose that suggested she knew exactly where she was going, or perhaps she was just running toward the only privacy available to her.
I let her go, watching the sway of her hips, the rigid set of her spine, knowing that chasing her now would only break something I wasn’t ready to fix. Following at a slower pace, my footsteps silent on the polished floor, I heard a door slam upstairs as her questions swirled around in my head. The answers could’ve been simple yet for some odd reason, theyevaded me. All I knew was that watching her slip that band around my wrist unsettled the order I lived by.
Fuck, it was easier to break men than to understand this.
Upstairs, I stood in middle of the bedroom longer than necessary, my pulse unsteady before the sound of the water drew me forward. The steam in the bathroom was thick enough to taste, clinging to the mirrors and the tiles, hiding the reflection of the man I was becoming for her.
She stood under the shower, her back to me, spine straight despite the heat rolling down her skin, the glass door fogged so heavily she couldn’t see me slide it open, the sound lost beneath the roar of the water.
Somehow, she heard me and turned her head slightly, enough that I saw the warning in her expression. “Just leave me alone, I don’t have time to play your power games tonight.” She wiped water from her eyes.
“Then you should’ve locked the door.” I stepped into the enclosure, fully clothed and reached for her.
She spun around, water sluicing off her shoulders, her hands coming up as if to push me away, pausing mid-air, her palms hovering over my chest where the water beat down on us both.
“This isn’t a game,” I murmured, my hands sliding to her waist, feeling the tension coiled there.
She tried to step away, her eyes livid daggers, ready to cut me down and fuck if she hadn’t done that already. “You don’t get to pull me into your world and then act confused when I resist.” Her breath caught when my mouth found the curve of her shoulder.
“I am confused,” I admitted against her throat, the unfamiliar truth bitter. “I don’t take women into the mountains unless I plan to kill them, I don’t ride the Ferris wheel, and I don’t watch women laugh at silly things, wanting to see it again.”
