I mean, I suppose kidnapping me, kissing me until I couldn’t breathe, and pressing his thick erection against me should have been some kind of clue, but still. At least I’m not the only one still harboring an obsession all these months later.
There’s only one bed. I eye the sofa, but it’s threadbare and doesn’t look very inviting. Letting out a deep sigh, I go to the bathroom, do my business, and brush my teeth with my finger. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I can see hope, excitement, and a pinch of dread in my eyes. Stripping down to my t-shirt and panties, I pad back to the living room, where Cruz is making up the bed.
I wait to the side, stopping myself from bouncing from foot to foot with nerves. Who am I right now? Why the fuck am I freaking out over a bed?
Cruz glances up at me, the corner of his lips ticking up. “Don’t worry,mi alma.When I have you again, it won’t be in this shitty apartment. I’m going to take my time and touch every inch of your body. I am going to take you over and over again, in every way possible, until you remember no one’s name but mine. I will erase every memory you have of anyone else’s hands on you. It will most likely take days before I will allow you out of bed. Until then, you are safe from me.”
I gawk at him, my eyes wide. Clamping my hanging mouth shut, I swallow hard and lower my eyes.Jesus.
When the bed’s ready, I crawl inside, turning my back on Cruz. He had a lot of pretty things to say, but I can’t forget. He left me once—I know, I would be a selfish cunt to hold that against him when I’m in the middle of my own revenge plans—but it was the way he did it. Disappearing without a trace. As if I meant nothing to him.
My libido wants to jump him, my brain warns caution, and my heart wants to leap in and hope for the best. Contrary fuckers.
Cruz slides in, grabs my waist, and pulls me into him. He’s hard and warm, and I want to both slap him and lick him. See? Contrary.
He holds me tight, and for the first time in a very long time, I feel safe.
Chapter 32
Dutch
Gloriousraysofsunshinebathe the room in their golden glow, gently pulling me from sleep. Stretching my back, I reach for Cruz, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Flopping my head back on the pillows, I groan, then turn over, staring up at the ceiling. My leg hits something heavy, and I force myself to sit up, spying a bag at the foot of the bed. Inside is a note, telling me he’s gone out to get breakfast. Under that are a few changes of clothes. The sizes are not quite right, but close enough. There’s plenty of black, so I’m happy. Digging farther down, I pull out some pretty racy lingerie. Holding up a bra that is more string than support, I drop it on the bed and cover my face.
I’ll cut anyone that dares to mention the slight blush that stains my cheeks. The thought of Cruz wandering around a store, picking out these things for me, makes those little fucking butterflies flap around my stomach. I wonder if Pepto-Bismol works as an insecticide.
Dumping the rest of the clothes out, I go through them, then pick out an outfit for today before heading into the bathroom. After taking care of business, I jump in the shower, desperate to wash away the dirt of yesterday.
When I finally step out, clouds of steam fog the room. I dry off, then run a hand down the arm covered in tattoos. I rub my thumb over the Judas Priest one, the one in honor of my mother. And repeat the vow I have been making for fifteen years.
I will make him pay.
Cruz comes back not long after I finish dressing, his eyes filling with heat as they run over my body. He loads the table with croissants and toast, fruit and jams, little pots of granola and yogurt, and bottles of water. We dive in, chatting inanely as we eat, getting comfortable with each other again.
When we’ve eaten our fill, I help Cruz clean up, and then we get down to business. If we’re going to kill Dante, I want to get it done. I promised the others I wouldn’t be gone too long, and I want to honor it.
“So, how do you want to do this?” I ask Cruz, taking a seat next to him on the sofa. With the bed pushed back into the wall, there aren’t many seating options.
“I was thinking about what you said about your father coming after us if we kill him. Do we want that? Does having Vincenzo riled up help or hinder your cause?”
I’m amazed he’s thinking about me right now. After dedicating so much time hunting down everyone involved, I would have thought Cruz would want the bloodiest kill for the one that ordered it. He must see the confusion on my face because he chuckles.
“I want him dead, Dutch, but not at the expense of your own revenge. If anyone understands that, it’s me. I thought we could stage an accident or a suicide, something that would end him, but leave your father in the dark.”
Sitting forward, I place a hand on his knee, running scenarios through my mind. I want Cruz to have his revenge. He deserves it. But it would be helpful if Vincenzo thinks it’s nothing more than an accident or health-related—
“That’s it!” I exclaim, a wide smile tearing across my face. “Dante has a heart condition, one only the closest family members are aware of. As he’s gotten older, he’s stepped back a bit from the more violent aspects of the organization. That was never his thing anyway, not like Cesare, who delights in it.” Jumping up, I think, trying to remember the whispered conversations I’ve heard over the years.
Cruz just watches me, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he waits for me to come up with a plan.
“I wonder if we could–” I mutter under my breath, passing in front of the windows. It’s a gorgeous day outside, perfect for going out on my bike.Concentrate!Walking back toward the kitchenette, I continue to come up with and discard ideas. “Do hearts explode?” I ask, twirling around to look at Cruz. “It would be fun if they did.” I don’t give him a chance to reply, going back to my thoughts.
And then a movie I watched once comes to mind, and a smile tears across my face. “Have you ever heard of phrogging?”
Cruz gives me a look which suggests he doubts my mental state. I stick my tongue out at him and he jumps up, stalking toward me as I back away laughing.
“If you’re going to stick that out at me, I can think of better uses for it.”
“Really?” I gasp out, dodging his outstretched arms. “Like what?”
