Page 94 of In the Dark

“You’re not very skilled in coercion,” I told him, striding past the apparel store and the dining area to where the tennis courts would be out back.

Jameson grabbed my arm then to stop me. “She’s in enemy territory—”

“I’m not her enemy, brother. Not anymore.” I made it clear.

“That might be, but she’s probably felt that way,” he argued. “I don’t give a shit how you handle her, but if you want her to stay, if you want a chance, she needs to figure out her family’s transgressions herself. She won’t believe us if we just bombard her with them.”

My jaw ticked. My heart pounded. My mind whirred as I thought through the scenarios.

“I’m going to fucking kill all of that family, I swear to God.”

“Or we’ll have to learn to live with them if you’re set on that woman being your wife for real,” he pointed out at the far tennis court.

Jasmina Ruiz was a riot of color in a world of whites and beige. Even under the brutal, honest glare of the midday sun, she was flawless. So brilliant that, for a second, the air stalled in my lungs. She was standing at the edge of one of the courts laughing with Mia, the light catching the rebellious sapphire streaks in her blonde hair and making them almost glow against the backdrop of the boring country club. There was a sharp, predatory elegance in the way she held herself. She didn’t really fit in, but that was the point. She stood there with a casual, devastating confidence that suggested the entire club was her stage, and we were all lucky enough to be in the audience.

Her tennis outfit was a blinding, crisp blue pleated skirt that was so damn short, it was tempting near every man to look toward her honey-tanned legs. I swear every male on the veranda had conveniently forgotten their own sport or the scotch they’d been drinking, their eyes anchored to her specific court.

“Theodore, stop looking at my fiancée,” I growled at one of the patrons as I walked by.

“Fiancée? No ring on her finger, Cal. Can’t blame a guy—”

“I can, and I will if you keep staring. Look at my girl again, and I’ll make sure there’s no way for you to look in the future,” I told him pointedly. The asshole was always slimy as it was. He needed to be put back in line even if it wasn’t with Jasmina.

“He’s got a point, though. Got to get her a ring,” my brother mumbled as we made our way over to the courts, where another couple of guys was approaching Mia and my viper.

“Why can’t the male species just not act like fucking animals?” I growled, coming to stand at the sideline of the courts where I could stare them all down. “You all enjoying flirting with the woman I’m about to marry?”

The man took a step back immediately, the realization of who he was hitting on pummeling him like a physical blow. Another tried to puff up his chest, a desperate play at bravado, but when Jasmina’s gaze flicked to mine and a slow, wicked smile spread across her face, he withered. He knew he didn’t stand a chance.

“Overprotective today, Cally baby?” she asked, her voice a melodic, singsong taunt designed to grate on my nerves.

I didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. I didn’t say a single word. Instead, I closed the distance quickly between us. My hand hooked around her waist, fingers digging into that short white skirt as I gripped her hip and hauled her flush against me so there was no space between us except the heat of the sun and the frantic thrum of her heart against my chest.

And then I crashed my mouth down onto hers.

The sound of her tennis racket clattering onto the clay was the only thing that broke the sudden, stunned silence of the club. She let out a sharp, muffled gasp against my lips, her body tensing for a fraction of a second before the fight left her entirely.

Damn, did I love the way her body practically melted in my arms every time I kissed her. I tasted the defiance in her mouth until it softened into surrender. My hand shifted, palm heavy and possessive, staking a claim on her body that the entire world could see.

Her fingers curled into the lapels of my jacket, anchoring herself as I deepened the kiss. I was staking a claim on her, devastatingly and with finality. On her lips. On her skin. On her heart.

I wanted this kiss as a symbol of what was off-limits to every single man in Paradise Grove. She was mine, and if it wasn’t clear before, I was making it undeniable with my touch. When I finally pulled back, just an inch, her breath was fast, her blue-streaked hair a mess, and her eyes alight with desire.

Her lips glistened before she licked them and murmured, “Territorial today, too, it seems?”

“I’m always overprotective and territorial when it comes to what’s mine. And that’s you. You understand?” I dragged a finger down her bare arms and then circled her ring finger. “You know your ring size?”

She hummed, a smirk on her face as she stepped back. “Oh, I don’t know. Might be a 6.5 with a need for a diamond about the same size in carats.”

“That so?” I raised an eyebrow.

She chuckled. “Not really. I don’t care about rings.” She shrugged and stepped back to pick up her racket. “We’re playing a game. You can watch if you want, but you need to get off the court.”

So, I stepped back, ready to let Mia and her finish out the doubles game they were playing against two other women, but it was Jasmina’s serve.

And that’s when I saw it.

It was the smallest movement, a flinch that most wouldn’t ever see.