“You know nothing about me. If you want to think I’m a petty criminal who only does it for the thrill, fine. But don’t insult us both by making ignorant assumptions about me.”
He snarls, and my stomach tightens with fear. The sharks seemed to have grown bored and are wandering off, but that doesn’t mean he still can’t throw me overboard and let them find me again.
Glowering, he runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated.
“Was I calling you by another man’s name this entire time? When I fucked you?”
Again, my stomach tightens, only for different reasons. Namely, because any reminder of him inside me has my face burning, and I hate that because of what he just did to me. And how badly I still feel humiliated.
I look down, and that’s answer enough.
“What’s your real name?” he demands.
I don’t want to tell him. There’s a chance I can escape once we get on land. Make a run for it and somehow slip from his fingers. I can find somewhere else to hide in Australia until I’m ready to risk flying again.
There’s still a chance of survival, and if he wants to figure out my nameafterI’m well and gone, all the power to him. I’m sure there are plenty of articles about me, though he won’t find many truths in those, either.
When I continue to hesitate, he stalks toward me, causing my muscles to stiffen and my throat to thicken.
I stumble away from him, but I’m already backed into the corner, leaning against the side of the boat. He advances until he’s pressed into me, his arms trapping me against his heated body.
“Guardami,” he orders sharply.
I shake my head, not understanding him but knowing that whatever it is, I don’t want to do it. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth in an effort to hide how it quivers.
Enzo reaches up and grips my jaw, forcing my eyes to him. Snarling, I still try to put distance between us, but his strength prevails over my weak attempt.
“I want to know the name Ishould’vebeen moaning that night.”
Tears are rising again. Not because he’s hurting me, but because I see my chances of getting away slipping through my fingers like water in my palms.
Screwing my eyes shut, a tear slips through, but they quickly pop open when he leans forward and gently kisses the tear. Pulling away, he licks the droplet off his lips.
“Those tears—they’re mine now. And I’ll pull plenty more out of you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”
Jesus.Fucking psychopath.
“Candace,” I bark out.
“Last name?”
I stutter, unable to think of anything quick enough.
His lips slide along my cheek, whispering, “I'm getting impatient, baby.”
Tears swim in my eyes, and as badly as I want to give him another false name, all I can think is that lying about my name isn’t worth getting eaten alive over.
“Sawyer,” I rush out finally, followed by another useless attempt to pull my face out of his grip.
“Sawyer,” he repeats slowly, my name sounding like roses and chocolate on his tongue. “Is that another lie,bella ladra?”
“No,” I snap.
“Last name?”
“Bennett,” I mutter.
He hums, something poised on the tip of his tongue, but then his eyes are snapping above my head.