“Forgive me if your blatant display of cleavage doesn’t scream innocence.”
I glower. “You’re right. Next time I’m abducted I’ll remember to pack a turtleneck.”
His gaze remains locked on mine and my predictably pathetic insides stir like this is foreplay, not warfare.
We hover there, motionless and pressed too close, breathing each other’s air as a stray drop of water falls from his hair to travel down my sternum, waking every nerve it passes.
“What else did Eliseo say?” he finally asks, his voice quieter now.
That you’re under my spell, I want to scream, but keep my mouth shut, unwilling to repeat what my body aches to believe.
He leans in, his presence bleeding into mine, his mouth moving to my ear. “What did he say, Isla?”
I close my eyes as shame prickles my skin. Not because I think Eliseo was wrong. But because I hate how badly I want him to be right.
I’ve never gotten over Raffael. He’s always been there, lodged in the quiet between thoughts, pulsing beneath every breath even when I tried to hate him for the way he treated me that day in his boardroom, and the years since.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to pretend I’m not unraveling. But he fills the space like a drug, and I’m already too high to care how this ends.
“He said you’re obsessed with me,” I admit.
He goes still. Only for a beat. Then he snickers. “My brother has always had a flair for the dramatic.” He pauses, his mouthremaining near my ear. “I’ll concede I’ve wanted to fuck you for as long as I can remember. But let’s not confuse lust with obsession.”
Goose bumps race up my arms, unwanted and despised.
“Maybe it’s time I gave in to temptation.” He nuzzles my cheek, the brush of his lips intimate in a way that contradicts every venom-laced word. “I should quit giving you second chances and simply take the trophy wife I’m owed. Just you, on your back, ready and waiting whenever I need a fix.”
He’s trying to disgust me. And it’s working. But again, it’s his words that don’t match his actions.
He could’ve already taken me. Against the window. Against my will.
There’s no one here to stop him. No recourse I could take that wouldn’t destroy my future.
But he hasn’t, because thatisn’tRaffael.
“Would you like that, Isla?” he purrs. “Is that what you want?”
I tilt my chin, my heart cracking as I meet his gaze. “What I want is for you to stop playing the monster and tell me what you’re afraid of.”
Chapter
Seventeen
RAFFAEL
I keep my expression level.Cocky. The kind of smugness that’s served me for years.
She’s too fucking tenacious for her own good. Always has been. It’s a trait I admired before I learned how lethal it could be. She digs, and digs, and doesn’t quit until she finds the truth.
But this time it has to stop.
I lean harder into her. Towel against robe. Deliberate pressure. Heat and threat branding that soft, sweet part of her.
Her inhale is sharp. Shaky.
“Does it feel like I’m afraid?” I grit out.
She swallows and stands taller. “What’s wrong, Raffael? Am I getting too close to the truth?”