SILENT VOWS

10

I might end up brokenhearted, but at least with Conner, I’d be alive. As far as I could tell, my best bet would be to marry him but keep my heart securely locked away. I would be free of my father and could work toward saving Sante as well.

I settled the tremor in my hand and wrote.

I’ll accept the marriage, but don’t ask any more of me.

Again, the tension in the room crackled to life.

“You have another man in your life?” Conner asked with a menacing calm.

I wasn’t sure why he was asking. He’d made it clear we weren’t to expect fidelity from one another.

I shook my head.

His chest expanded as he slowly sat back, finally giving me space to breathe. “Then we have a deal.” He stood, holding out his hand for mine.

Not wanting to be rude when I’d only just accepted his proposal, I placed my hand in his, biting back a gasp at the zing of electricity that lit my nerve endings from my hand all the way to my belly. The second I was on my feet, I pulled away from his touch. He was too much. Too consuming and disorienting.

I caught a glimpse of a smirk from the corner of my eye.

Jerk. He knew how he affected me and probably every other warm-blooded woman on the planet. Even worse, he used it to manipulate. To exercise power over his hapless victims. But not me. I refused. I wouldn’t be putty in his hands to be played with, then ignored.

I surged ahead, leading the way into the living room, where my father and Sante stood talking to one another.

“I believe everything is in order,” Conner announced from behind me.

“Wonderful,” my father crooned. “Tomorrow, we can begin to hash out the details.”

Conner extended a hand, the two shaking firmly as if closing a deal on a sale of cattle. That was all this was. My hopes and dreams meant no more than the breeding ability of livestock. It was appalling, but when Dad closed the door behind Conner, and I was once again pinned beneath my father’s murderous stare, I knew marriage was my only option.

I wasn’t one to shy away from sin. In fact, I was rather fond of several of the deadliest sort, but envy had never been much of a problem. Until now. The thought of Noemi f*****g another man had turned my insides as green as her jade-speckled eyes.

What if I wanted a lover?

Jesus. Just recalling her question made my skin crawl with the need to lash out. I’d told her she could do whatever she wanted, but that was bullshit. Not once she was mine. Not if I still felt this cloying sense of need that I couldn’t f*****g shake. It had been two damn days since dinner at her house, and I couldn’t get those f**k-me lips out of my brain.

Even worse, I’d begun to wonder how her voice had sounded before, back when she could speak.

She was Italian, for Christ’s sake. I shouldn’t have given two shits about her, let alone daydreamed about how dirty words would sound falling from her lips. And the very last thing I should have been doing was following her around like a f*****g puppy. Yet here I was, sitting at her usual coffee shop, waiting for her to arrive like a trained golden retriever.

Fuck me.

I’d gone around in my head so many times about our last exchange that I’d needed to see her again just to be sure I’d interpreted her reactions correctly. That I hadn’t just convinced myself of what I’d wanted to see. That she was affected by me as much as I was by her.

When she walked into the shop, she stuttered to a stop at the sight of me. I held back a smirk and instead concentrated my stare on her pathetic babysitter. The chalk-eater glared at me, but he couldn’t touch me now that the wedding contract was in place. Regardless, he was itching for a rematch after I’d taken him down without breaking a sweat. It was written all over his pathetic pouting face.

Eventually, he retreated to sit like a good dog outside the café, and Noemi joined me at the table. She was back in casual clothes but was no less seductive for it. Something about the way she carried herself made her wardrobe irrelevant. She could be sexy as hell in a f*****g clown suit.

She took out her notepad from her purse, and I found myself yet again wondering what her voice had been like. Was it delicate like the distant ringing of a windchime or warm and sultry like a summer breeze?

On second thought, it was probably best I didn’t know.

I dropped my eyes from her to the message she slid across the table.

Waiting for me with my usual breakfast is dangerously close to a romantic gesture.

I hated how right she was, but I’d never admit it. “I assure you, there’s nothing romantic about my motivations.”

She arched a brow.

Then why are you here?

I leaned forward, clasping beneath the seat of her chair and sliding her close enough to feel her shaky breath on my lips. I’d been around long enough to know fear when I saw it. It was thick and sticky and tainted the air all around with bitterness. When Noemi was close to me, fear didn’t scent the air. It was something just as primal but far more intriguing. Desire. Need.

I ran the back of my hand slowly down her arm and reveled in the way she shivered at my touch.

“That right there is why I’m here. I felt the way you responded to me at your house, and I’ve wanted more since the minute I left. Call it romance if you want. I don’t really care what you call it, so long as those pretty lips end up panting my name.”

I leaned back in my chair, relieving the tension between us. If I hadn’t, my d**k would have ended up so hard that everyone in the damn café would have seen the bulge in my pants.