Tomás nods. “I can tidy. It’s not a problem.” He admits. “But then Marta wouldn’t have a job, which means she wouldn’t have money or a roof over her head. She’d likely be homeless. It has nothing to do with her being female and everything to do with giving her a place in the world.” His shoulders bounce lightly and I can’t tell if it’s a calculated chess move to get cheap labor. “Besides, she enjoys working for me. Ask her yourself when you get home.”
“Home?” I scoff. “I don’t live with you.”
“Okay.” He shrugs. “Let's call it your temporary accommodation, where you will stay until further notice. A bit wordy though, don’t you think?”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re killing my appetite.”
Discrete stares watch our interaction. Breaths pause, waiting for trouble. Perhaps they’re in awe of his rogue authority as much as I am. How he carries himself with a certain imposing grace that makes him untouchable. I can’t tell whether they’re fascinated or terrified. Or if I’m angry he found me or wishful he’d kiss me.
My gaze flicks to his weapon and when I look back at him, he’s smirking.
“Did you really think you could run from me, little liar?” The tone he uses doesn't warrant a response, it’s more of an egotistical statement. “That you could hide in my city and not be found. Not everyone who enjoys your company is your friend.”
Featherlight fingertips skate across my knee. The sensation causes my nipples to harden like he knows the exact buttons to press to get a reaction out of me. The teasing pressure turns up the heat within me to sizzling. “My dog is loyal to me. And the second he barked; my surveillance cameras caught you stealing my new Audi.”
“I didn’t steal it,” I say on a breath, doing my best to contain my soaring libido as he touches me in public.
His hand moves under the shirt tails and when it stops at the apex of my thighs, his pupils expand and his nostrils flare as he inhales a slow, controlled breath. “You’re living up to your name,little liar. From what I can tell, you’ve stolen my boxer shorts.” He fingers the fabric of his designer underwear close to the uncontrollable wetness forming beneath them. “My shirt.” Dark eyes trail my torso, temporarily pausing at the makeshift belt cinching my waist. “My tie—andone of my cars.” One of his cars. Of course, he has more than one. “Should I add thief as a double-barreled extra?”
My core clenches. “I borrowed your car.” The obvious hush around us makes me painfully aware of the spectators. “It’s safely parked. I’ll make sure your clothes are dry cleaned before I send them back to you.” My voice lowers, my shoulders almost tipping into him, an involuntary reaction to the chills he’s giving me.
A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. I visibly stiffen when he takes his hand away from my inner thigh, shrugs out of the expensive jacket, and drapes it over my legs. A luxurious inner lining scented with smoky sandalwood conceals his intentions. With his eyes locked on mine, he angles his torso in a way that shields me from the other diners.
He dips into the shell of my ear. “You say that as if you’d be somewhere other than in my bed?” His accent switches on the last word ever so slightly. I assume he’s spent too many hours with the Irish sidekick guarding the exit.
My heart rate picks up pace, unable to escape his touch without making a scene. “You can’t seriously expect me to willingly walk out of here with you? I’ll scream.”
“No one will bat an eye.”
“Someone will.”
“Maybe... and if they do, I’ll shoot them in the face for getting involved in cartel business.”
“I’m not... cartel business,” I growl indignantly.
He smirks. “As of last night, you are very much the Souza cartel's business.”
“I’ll run away again.” My fists tighten.
“You didn’t run very far on the first and final attempt, so I’m guessing this…” Confident fingers slide under his borrowed boxer briefs, this time hunting the slickness he’d created. I flinch, hating myself for the neediness unfurling in my core. “This part of you didn’t want to leave.” I squirm, my cheeks flaming. “Fight against me and I’ll fuck you over the breakfast bar before your next breath.”
“You wouldn’t…” I hiss through gritted teeth, then rashly snatch the gun to jab it into the muscle over his heart. “I’m not a threat to you. Let me go.”
Slowly, his brow creases and long lashes framing starless eyes lower to the loaded weapon. With his free hand, he snares my throat quicker than a viper attack.
“Do you have a death wish?” He stretches my neck, so my chin hitches higher. His hand moves upward and cups my chin, the pad of his thumb dragging over my lower lip.
I manage to shake my head. “No,” I reply honestly, the tip of my tongue meeting his short thumbnail. “I don’t wish for death anymore. But I'm not scared of it either.”
When his head cocks to the side, the diamonds adorning his ears sparkle. “So what does scare you?”
“I’m scared of not living. And never finding where I belong.”
He takes a slow, steady breath, glances at the gun, and then leisurely slides his gaze all the way up to my mouth.
“I promise you this,little liar…” Between my thighs, he flattens his palm, cups my pussy, and angles a finger inside of me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a whimper. “If you shoot me, everyone in here will die, including you. My men would retaliate immediately. Without question.”
My hand trembles, the weight of deadly steel a pointless curse. “Don’t do this.”