Chapter 016
840 Words
MARCO'S POV
The security feed showed Harriet's car pulling up to my estate at exactly 8:47 PM. She sat in the driver's seat for three full minutes, probably debating whether to drive away. Smart girl. But we both knew she wouldn't.
"Let her through," I ordered through the intercom.
I watched her walk up the path I'd had lined with lights just for her. She looked different than during her first time here – less afraid, more determined. The innocence was still there, but now it was tempered with something harder. Knowledge. Experience.
My doing, all of it.
"Miss Blackwood has arrived," Antonio announced from the doorway.
"Bring her to my study." I turned away from the monitors. "And Antonio? Make sure we're not disturbed."
The door opened five minutes later. Harriet stood there in her café uniform, hair falling loose around her shoulders, looking like everything I'd been trying not to want.
"You could have just talked to me at work," she said, not moving from the doorway. "Since you own the place."
"Would you have listened?" I gestured to the leather chair across from my desk. "Sit."
She did, but perched on the edge like she might bolt any second. "Sierra showed me the photos."
"Good. Then we can skip the part where I explain how much danger you're in."
"I'm only in danger because of you." Her eyes flashed. "Because you couldn't just let me go after the contract ended."
I leaned forward, letting her see the truth in my face. "I was never going to let you go, Harriet. The sooner you accept that, the safer you'll be."
"Safe?" She laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Like Sylvia was safe?"
The name hit me like a physical blow. I was around the desk before I realized I'd moved, gripping the arms of her chair, caging her in.
"Who told you about her?" My voice was barely controlled.
"People talk." She didn't flinch away. "They say she was your first love. That Martinez killed her on your wedding day."
"And that's why you're fighting this? Because of what happened to her?"
"I'm fighting this because I'm not a possession." She met my gaze steadily. "You can't just buy me and keep me."
"No?" I brought one hand up to her face, tracing her cheekbone. "Then why are you here?"
Her breath caught. "Because you threatened—"
"I didn't threaten anything. I asked you to come, and you came." I let my thumb brush her lower lip. "Just like you keep coming to work at my café, even though we both know you could get another job anywhere."
"Marco..." It was somewhere between a warning and a plea.
"Tell me you don't feel this." I moved closer, until our breaths mingled. "Tell me you don't lie awake thinking about our time together. About how it felt when—"
She kissed me. Hard, desperate, angry. Her hands fisted in my shirt as she pulled me closer. I lifted her from the chair, pressing her against the nearest wall. She made that little sound in her throat that drove me crazy, and I growled in response.
"I hate this," she gasped when we broke for air. "I hate wanting you."
"No." I nipped at her neck, feeling her shiver. "You hate that you can't control it. That's different."
"You're dangerous."
"Yes." I pulled back enough to look at her. "But I'm not Martinez. What happened to Sylvia... I won't let that happen to you."
"Because I'm your possession?"
"Because you're mine." I touched my forehead to hers. "There's a difference."
She was quiet for a long moment, her hands still gripping my shirt. "Lady One is working with him."
"I know."
"She knows about me. About us."
"Nothing will happen to you." I made it a promise. "My men are watching you every moment. The café, your home, your father's rehabilitation center – all secure."
"And what about you?" She touched my face, surprising me. "Martinez killed the woman you loved once. He could—"
I kissed her again, softer this time. "I've spent fifteen years becoming someone Martinez can't touch. Trust me."
"I don't trust anyone."
"Liar." I smiled against her lips. "You trust me enough to be here. To let me touch you like this."
As if to prove my point, my hands slid lower, and she arched into me with a gasp.
"Stay tonight," I murmured.
"I have work in the morning."
"I own the café, remember? Take the day off."
She laughed, and the sound did things to my chest I didn't want to examine too closely. "Is that an order, Don Sanchez?"
"Would you obey if it was?"
Her eyes darkened. "Maybe. If you ask nicely."
I growled and lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist automatically. "I don't ask nicely, mi amor. You should know that by now."
As I carried her toward my bedroom, I felt her smile against my neck. "I know. That's why I'm still here."
- Writer
