“You told me to stay out of your way. Now you want a conversation?” I shudder when he purposely drags the frames off his face with his free hand. Amaranthine green eyes snare with mine, then dart to the corner of the cabana, ensuring we’re alone. The second they release me, I inhale again. A quick intake of air to keep me alive, laced with tropical tones of pure earth and raw seduction.
His gaze returns, stripping me apart piece by piece. Kinetic pools mirror the tint of thickset trees beyond him.
The ruthless hand holding me prisoner gradually uncurls. “I said stay out of my way, not disrespect me in front of my workforce.”
“Why should I show you respect when you think it’s okay to trap me here against my will? What have I ever done to you?”
“It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what you’re capable of doing. What you plan to do.”
Covered fingers skate along my biceps. The fine ridge of stitches binding leather invites a squall of prickles, so ruthless and unwanted. But they’re there. All over me. An unsolicited reaction. A wanton mistake.
“Don’t touch me,” I spit out. “Back the fuck up and give me space. The only thing I plan to do is leave.”
Rather than obey, he steps even closer, darkening the morning blush. All I can see is him.
One by one, sheathed fingers slip between his teeth, deliberately nipping the leather until the veil of concealment comes away. With supple black leather hanging from his mouth like a dead crow, he snatches it away and pockets the glove. I’m frozen, locked in place. He teases my shirttails loose with his opposite hand. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“What game?” I shiver at the contact.
He chuckles darkly. “The sort of game where you try to ignore me.” Fingers glide under the material, tracing the waistline of ill-fitting trousers. My stomach jerks at the intrusion. “Let’s see if you’re truly capable of staying quiet.”
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I hiss.
His one gloved hand swathes my throat, lengthening the bones so I’m staring directly into his eyes. I squeeze the lids shut, doing my utmost to block out the sensation of weight pressing against my breasts while his fingers pop open useless buttons holding the slacks to my hip bones. His breathing picks up pace, puffing in blasts over my cheek as he angles the wounded side out of his way. Dipping to my ear, he hums out a savage growl. I could dare to think he’s battling with desire, but the cruel noise is actually the king claiming his authority. Nothing more.
“Can you ignore this?” He caresses the contours of my quivering stomach, traveling between us to find my nipples.
I’ve nowhere to hide as his gaze drills into mine. I swallow in a gulp, begging my body to show repulsion, to become immune to his wicked torment. I can’t prevent waves of gooseflesh or the mounting swell between my thighs, and the bastard knows it. I’m only human. My senses answer to stimulation, but it doesn’t mean I’ll enjoy it.
“While you’re trying so very hard to ignore me, tell me one thing.” Tracing my waist, fingers skim to breach the loose material draping open at my belly. His spine stiffens. Unforgiving inky pupils liquify when he finds I’m not wearing panties. They weren’t part of the welcome package. In a man’s world, they fail to consider feminine basics. Underwear. Tampons. Razors. Simple necessities.
“Why did you fly to Rio last year with a Mr. Campbell?”
My spine locks. Keith.
“It was my honeymoon.”
His head yanks back like the announcement tugged the taut thread to his gravity. “You’re married?”
“No. I backed out,” I declare under a shaky breath. “We never made it to Rio.” The words spill out like a confession.
I can’t lie and pretend I’m married, to wish for a shred of clemency, a reprieve to this unfair charade. If he knows about Keith, then he already knows I’m not with him anymore. To be dishonest now would be the worst decision of all.
His bare hand doesn’t still for long, reaching behind me to grab my ass, rough and hard. I twist, straining my neck to turn, angling my hips to break away.
Keith asked me to marry him. He knew who I was. He understood the long hours and sheer dedication required to excel in my career. Or so I thought, until he accused me of working too much, ignoring him, and neglecting his needs. A month before our wedding, I walked away from a future I wasn’t sure I wanted in the first place. Regardless of his insecurities, he was kind and generous, not barbaric and intoxicating.
He pulls back an inch. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? Perhaps that man is my enemy too.”
“Keith? He’s never heard of you. How could he be your enemy?” This man is delusional. Keith never left the highlands, let alone conspire with strangers. The only danger he welcomed was trudging through a stream without wearing waders.
“Is there even a Keith Campbell? Or is he a decoy? I’m guessing you flew to Rio to meet a contact, and you’re lying to me.”
I suck in sharply, and as I prepare to scream, leather slams over my mouth. The effort to wrangle my jaws goes unrewarded when all I can do is nip his glove.
“Not quite so confident in your ability to ignore me now.” He chuckles, muting my squeal from the world.
Firm movements knead my fleshy buttocks, sliding roaming fingers into the crack so his handful encompasses more. The guttural noise deep in his chest reverberates from his body to mine. It tingles through me, both spurring my struggle and spiking my own inconvenient sunless craving.
