Violent Delights (White Monarch 1) - Page 17

“And nobody left me alone,” I said, ignoring the man’s question. “I can take care of myself.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “Regardless, I wouldn’t take the chance if you were mine.”

If I was his. My chest rose and fell a little faster, but this time, it wasn’t in fear. His tight, possessive hold made it feel as if he already thought I belonged to him. For a split second, the thought of being at his mercy both scared and excited me. “But I’m not yours,” I said to gauge his reaction.

“I can fix that.”

How bold. Nobody in this world had ever come on to me like this. “You could try,” I said, “but I can promise it wouldn’t go well for you.”

“I like a challenge. Because it doesn’t sound to me as if your fiancé deserves you. He’d be wise to recognize that someone else might come along and show you that.”

I didn’t know many men around here who would speak so shamelessly about another man’s fiancée. “You’re worse than that hag of a fortune teller,” I bit out.

One dark eyebrow rose, his interest obviously piqued. “What’d she tell you?”

I looked around his shoulder and saw Diego wipe his temple as he started toward the dancefloor. He still hadn’t spotted me, but his movements became agitated. I tried frantically to make eye contact. “She told me not to dance with masked strangers.”

The man moved so I could see nothing but him. He had tango-ed us into a dark corner, away from anyone else, and my heart started to thump. He lowered his mouth to my ear. “What if I’m not a stranger?” he asked.

He was playing games. As he isolated me from the crowd, all I heard was Cristiano’s threats to my nine-year-old self. You don’t know true fear.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to see around him.

“Tell me. Are you willing to die for your fiancé?”

The eerie echo of the soothsayer’s words made my face heat with anger. “Are you willing to die for me?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you don’t let me go,” I said, searching for the most menacing threat I could, “I’ll scream.”

“I thought you could take care of yourself.”

“I’m no match for your size. I wouldn’t scream to be rescued, but as the fastest means to get a gun in your face.”

“I see. Do you think they’ll hear you over the music?” he asked, sounding amused.

“I’ll scream as loud as I can, for as long as I can, until my vocal cords give out or I can no longer keep my mouth open.”

A disarmingly slow smile moved over his face, the teeth of his disguise spreading ear to ear. “I admit, I am curious to see how long you can keep your mouth open.”

I shivered at the insinuation and pulled back, this time unable to hide my shock. “You’ve threatened the wrong person. I can have you killed in seconds without lifting a finger.”

“Then I’d like to change my order. Please tell the heavens it is my dying wish to hear you scream.”

He spoke with a rumble so deep, I felt his voice between my legs. And I was sure, by the way his eyes bore into mine, he’d meant me to. He wanted my screams, and to scare me, but it didn’t come from a place of menace. I couldn’t put my finger on his intention, but it was something much more carnal.

We were no longer dancing, but his hand still clenched mine as his fingers buried into the skin of my back. He held me like I was an instrument to be played, one he would snap in half before he gave it up. Not even Diego held me so greedily.

“Then I’ll grant you your wish,” I threatened.

“Your loyalty to him is admirable if not baffling.” He checked over his shoulder, then released me with a bow. “We’ve been discovered anyway. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to take you with me.”

I’ll have to take you with me.

I’d heard those words in my nightmares and any place I was alone in the dark too long. “What?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry as I was transported back to the tunnel.

“I said, I’ll have to take my leave. Excuse me.”

He walked away, leaving me in darkness as I hung on his words, torn between never wanting to see him again and a temptation to call him back—in a way that felt all too familiar.

Diego pushed his way through the crowd. “Who was that?” he asked when he finally reached me.

“I don’t know,” I said, hugging myself. “I told him I didn’t want to dance.”

“And the bastard put his hands on you anyway? I should get Barto so we can hunt that cabrón down and teach him some manners.” Diego searched the space around us. “I told you not to come.”

Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance
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