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Though I wanted to run, to escape the enforcer whose reputation preceded him, I walked to the glass doors and slid one open, stepping out onto the balcony with a deep inhale.
I grasped the railing, staring over the ocean where moonlight gleamed in the water. Frangipani sweetened the salty air, palm fronds rustling in the light breeze. The scene was…glorious. But it was clear I’d soon not be here to appreciate it.
I should have put two and two together the moment the Agostino enforcer had told me his name. But if he hoped my death would bother Sean, he was sadly mistaken.
Sean only cared about the fact I’d shamed him by escaping. My death wouldn’t stop him from sleeping at night.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
I swung around at Valentino’s voice behind me. My breath hitched at his charisma, at the way he commanded the space he was in. Even in the semi-darkness with the light silhouetting him from behind he was mesmerizing. I crossed my arms and glowered. “I lost my appetite.”
“You’re my guest here. I don’t want you going hungry.”
Guest? That was laughable. I was his prisoner and we both knew it. But I wasn’t about to remind him of it. I didn’t want to antagonize him further; I had no idea if he had a temper to match his violent occupation.
“I doubt my appetite—or lack thereof—matters all that much to you,” I finally said.
His dark chuckle raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “What really matters is me having you for dessert.”
Heat zinged through me, moisture flooding my core. “With or without my consent?”
“Oh, I won’t need your consent. You’ll be begging me for release.”
I wanted to be outraged, to deny his statement, but it was pointless to pretend I wasn’t turned on by him, I’d connected to him from the moment I’d seen him at the bar. That he’d eventually kill me, if I didn’t escape first, didn’t stop me from wanting him. It was a sickness I couldn’t fight.
“You wouldn’t be the first man to force an orgasm from me.”
His face tightened, his dark eyes glittering like black diamonds. “You didn’t enjoy sex with Sean?”
“How could I enjoy sex with a man I despised?” I winced. “My body betrayed me but my mind never once slipped from hating him.”
In two strides Valentino was in front of me. “Did he ever touch you here?” he asked, lifting his hand and tracing my jawline with his fingertips. I swallowed convulsively as electricity danced over my skin. “Did he pull your earlobe into his mouth and suck on it,” he said, before doing exactly that. I was almost an orgasmic puddle at his feet when he pulled back and added softly, “Then blow his breath gently inside.”
When he leaned close again and exhaled into my ear, I jerked at the heady, tickling sensation that burned its way through my nerve endings.
He stepped back and looked down at me. “It’s not always about fondling a woman’s pussy and breasts. There are many other ways to enjoy intimacy.”
I nodded, then conceded a little too breathlessly, “He was a selfish lover.”
Valentino’s eyes narrowed. “Not all mobsters are selfish with their women.”
My heart did an unsteady thump against my ribs. “Is that what I am to you now? Your woman.”
His breath hissed, his jaw hardening to granite. Then a light suddenly shone behind me, distracting me. I swung around to see the silhouette of a boat floating just offshore behind the breakers.
“Damn fishing boats,” he bit out. “The land might be my own but I can’t stop anyone from using the ocean around it.”
I blinked, my mind working overtime. I twisted back around, pretending disinterest even as I pressed my hands against my stomach. “All this fresh salt air is starting to make me a little hungry,” I lied.
I’d need all my strength if I hoped to escape from this place.
He raised a brow, stepping aside to let me past. “Then let’s eat.”
I forced myself to do just that, though I didn’t have to feign my appreciation. He knew how to cook a good steak. Even the fries were perfectly golden and crunchy. If only my stomach didn’t squeeze tight as though it was going to eject all its contents back out again.
I put my fork down, my steak half-eaten along with my fries, though I’d managed most of my salad. I pushed my chair back. “I’ll clean up.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll do it. You go to bed. You look about ready to drop.”
