My heart raced and my leg bounced more violently. No man had affected me like the darkly handsome man in front of me.
As it was, this was my first time attending a meeting where billions of dollars were discussed. Talking about massive amounts of money made me uncomfortable.
My skin itched and my armpits were wet. The way theythrew around dollar amounts in the millions like they were quarters being tossed into a fountain was more than a little disturbing to me.
I’d grown up poor and only had three dollars in my wallet. My bank account was in the negative. Payday was still five days away. I didn’t know how I would put gas in my beater car or food in my belly. After the ramen and loaf of cheap bread was gone, I’d have to get creative with my survival skills.
But Mr. Remotti, in his expensive suit and manicured nails, and multi-billion-dollar budget, had me twisted into knots beyond anything I could comprehend.
When our gazes connected, a freakish bolt of something sliced through my core and made me jolt in my chair. A glimmer sparked in his brown depths, telling me he’d felt it too.
At that moment, I knew I was in trouble…
Ciro spun me around,jerking me out of my reverie. His hardened depths met mine as if questioning my intentions. It gutted me not to see an ounce of jealousy or love on his face, only a rigid jaw and possessiveness. I wasn’t the love of his life, only a disposable asset.
“Dance with me,My-la,” he demanded, in a low, throaty voice. Damn him for calling me by the nickname he’d given me the first night he’d made love to me.
Made love?Don’t be so ridiculous, Isla.
He’d ravaged my body with every touch and kiss, claiming and ruining me for other men, while mutteringMy-la, My-la, My-la.
“Yes.” Unable to refuse, I hooked my arms around his neck. In my five-inch strappy heels, my head barely grazed his chin. He stood tall and strong, like a Roman gladiator.
“So fucking petite, but with curves in all the right places,” he said as he pulled my body against his and wrapped his muscular arms around my frame.
The world faded away around us. The stars in the inky sky brightened as we danced in quintessential harmony.
Our mouths connected, tongues twisting and playing to the rhythm of the song. There in his arms, sorrow burrowed into my heart.
I couldn’t do this anymore.
Ciro would never give me what I needed. He would never be mine, my forever and always.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered against his mouth. “So much.” Might as well enjoy what could be our last dance, right?
“I’ve been here, baby. Who’s the fucker putting his hands on you?”
I sighed, tilting my head up and rolling my eyes. “Be nice.”
“I’m serious. Who is he?”
“He’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Not because you want me but because another man was paying attention to me. Nice, Ciro. Let me go.” I reared back, but he wouldn’t release me.
“I asked you a question. Who the fuck is he? He obviously doesn’t know that you’remine.”
“Really, Ciro? I’m not your property. You don’t own me.” I pressed my hands flat against his chest and tried to get out of his hold. “You don’t deserve me. He’s probably some politician’s cocky son. Now, let me go!”
“Come with me.” He grabbed me by the hand and tugged me through the crowd of people toward the house.
I didn’t want to go inside.
I didn’t want to be alone with him.
I didn’t want the end of us to come.
But I had no choice. I couldn’t refuse his demands, because making a scene was not my style. Maddening as all get out, I loved Ciro and would never disrespect him.
My heels clacked on the stone flooring, echoing throughout the main floor. He didn’t appear at all concerned that I was practically running to keep up with his quick, long strides.
