Eagle

God, she’s stubborn—and incredibly hot when she’s pissed off. We’re sitting in the kitchen drinking bottled water. Diaz sent someone to get Lazaro. I have no idea where Tony and the other dancers are. A few minutes later, Lazaro appears—he’s buzzed.

“You found her.”

“Yeah.” I hand his keys back. “This is Serafina.”

Lazaro gives her a lopsided grin and offers his hand.

She reluctantly shakes it. “Nice party.”

I grumble to myself. Why can’t she be polite? Is she going to push his buttons the way she has mine? Does the girl understand who she’s talking to? Stupid question, she’s completely unimpressed.

Lazaro scratches his head. “About what happened . . .” My best friend’s good ol’ boy charm fades. He takes things as personally as I do. Lives by the same laws. Responsible for any guest under his roof, the disrespect and violence Serafina has been subjected to must be rectified.

“How about I save you the trouble of an apology,” she offers. “Can you make arrangements for me to catch a ride home?”

Lazaro throws me a look.

“I don’t think you understand,” I say. “Lazaro intends to make things right.” I try to settle her down with a reassuring smile. She deserves every consideration after what happened to her. That’s why I demanded she return with me. I know she’s not thinking straight after what Tito did—I’ll protect her, see her safely home.

Her lips form a straight line. “Where’s Tony?” She has no intention of acknowledging my friend’s effort.

“Downstairs,” Lazaro answers. “I didn’t feel the need to stop the other girls from dancing. I sincerely apologize for my cousin’s cruelty. He’s been disciplined.”

She looks at him in confusion. “You’re related to that psycho?”

“Hey.” I wrap my arm around her waist, wanting to provide more comfort. Lazaro isn’t the bad guy here. “Take it easy,” I whisper in her ear. “Let’s get through this together, then you can do whatever you want.”

She pulls back and stares at me, but her body relaxes slightly. “Okay.”

“Where did you get ready for the party?” I ask her.

She looks toward the dining room. “One of the bedrooms off the hallway.”

“How about we head that way, then I’ll get Tony.”

“Great idea,” Lazaro says, rubbing the back of his neck, getting soberer by the second. I’m sure he appreciates my effort to get Serafina out of his face. “Stay with her, bro. Diaz will find her escort.” He gets up, slaps me on the shoulder, then disappears down the stairs.

She stands abruptly and pushes me aside. “I did my duty, kept you out of trouble with your friend. I’m leaving now.”

“No, you’re not.” I grip her wrist, still hoping she’ll see the wisdom in staying with me for now. But since she wants to stir the pot some . . . “What the fuck were you thinking? He was trying to be nice to you.”

“Nice? Sorry I’m an inconvenient reminder of his fuckup. The thugs in that guest house weren’t the kind of guys I expected to see here. Pretty sure a few of them are regularly featured on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

My shoulders stiffen at her continued rudeness. “Am I supposed to believe you typically entertain the kind of men you’d take home to meet your parents? Get over it, darlin’. There’s more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?” she slants her head.

“Like what I’ll do to that beautiful mouth if you don’t shut it.” Her eyes go wide and I can’t hide my satisfaction at seeing her struggle to find the right words to shoot back at me. “Come on.” I grip her arm and lead her out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and down the hallway. “Which bedroom?”

“Third on the left.”

We stop and I open the door, gesturing for her to step inside. “Ladies first.”

She makes an unattractive snorting sound and shuffles inside. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

I follow her and close the door and lock it. “Could be a while,” I warn.

“Define a while.” Serafina flops onto the end of the bed, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

I can’t blame her, that shit in the guest house would make most girls curl into a ball and cry for weeks or seek relief in an endless stream of wine. This woman is different. Brave to a fault. Stubborn. Insulting. Clever. And fucking gorgeous. Unbelievably so.

“Last time I saw him, your escort had his lips wrapped around a longneck.”

“So? He’s allowed to have a couple drinks on the job.”

“Not if he worked for me. That’s the first rule of any good bodyguard. You don’t join the party, sweetheart, you stand out. Earn the respect of the guests so they don’t fuck around with your merchandise.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, looking more pissed off. “Is that what I am, Eagle? Priced to sell?”

So much for honesty. Why do women get offended by simple truth? “Under these circumstances, yeah. You’re not here to generate great discussion topics. That body . . . that face . . . your mouth.”

“Don’t leave anything out.”

“Everything seems to lead back to that goddamned mouth of yours.” I head to the bed and sit down next to her, wanting to get closer—to smell her again. “You talk too much.”

“So do you, especially for a one percenter.” She eyes the diamond-shaped patch on the front of my leather vest, a distant look in her eyes.

“What do you know about bikers?”

“Nothing,” she snaps. “Just an intuitive observation.”

“What else do you know, Serafina?” I love her name.

She inches away from me. “That you’re invading my personal space.”

I chuckle. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. If I’m stuck here, you should leave so I can take a dip in the hot tub.”

I look at the barrel-styled Jacuzzi, remembering when Lazaro had several installed during a major remodel a few years ago. “Nice try, Serafina. The last time I left you alone, you ran away. There’s no way I’m making the same mistake again.”

“Stand guard outside the door.”

“And give you a chance to crawl out the windows?”

“Fine.” She jumps up and crosses the room, kneels in front of a suitcase, and unzips it. She shuffles around in it, then pulls out an iPod. “If you’re staying, you’ll have to put up with my taste in music.”

Expecting something girly like Justin Bieber, I’m impressed when the smoky beat of a classic Sade tune blasts out of the speaker on the nearby dresser. I reposition myself on the bed, sliding up to the headboard and arranging the pillows behind my back. I lace my fingers behind my head, ready to let Serafina do her thing. The hot tub is in plain view, so she’s not going anywhere.

I watch as she approaches the side of the Jacuzzi and reaches in to test the water temperature. She nods in approval, then retreats a step. Satisfied she intends to chill, I relax and stretch, closing my eyes for a second. Instinct tells me to open them immediately. I do, catching her slowly unbuttoning the jeans she slipped into while we were in the cabana. Nothing tops seeing how this girl shucks clothes. Her fingers move gracefully, practiced and hypnotizing.

That’s the seasoned stripper in her—everything she does screams sex.

I sit up as the fabric of her shirt slides from her shoulders, revealing flawless, tanned skin. Then it falls to her feet. Whether intentionally or not, she shoots me a seductive look, the kind I know too well. It’s a subtle invitation to admire her body. I fist my hands at my sides, my palms staring to sweat. I want to bite one of her tits while I pump inside her. Fuck! But then she angles her body so I can see that beautiful ass. She kicks off her heels and instead of climbing into the steamy water, she bends at the waist and slides her G-string off like she’s on stage.

Should I grab a handful of twenties from my pocket and shower her with bills?

When she sucks on her bottom lip, I’m about done.

“What are you doing, Serafina?” Besides tempting a man who’s been on the edge for too long. With one word, I’ll join her and show her what she’s doing to me. I know this girl wants to fuck me. But she’s in for a surprise, because I’ll do all the fucking while she screams my name.

She whips her long hair to one side, looking over her shoulder at me. “Getting comfortable. Doing what you wanted me to do.”

I’ve had an erection since I threw her over my shoulder on the highway, but it’s throbbing painfully now, begging for relief. Begging to be inside her. “What’s that, darlin’?”

“The show might be over for the assholes out there . . .” She gestures toward the door with her head. “But for you . . . You’re a VIP now, right?”

“Hey,” I say. “Did I ever ask for anything in return for saving your ass?”

“You didn’t have to. Kind of goes with the territory, right? Nothing for free in our little world.”

“I don’t remember you being in my world, Serafina. My patches separate us more than you’ll ever know.”

A sad look darkens her features suddenly. “If you say so.”

As she steps into the hot tub, I catch a glimpse of the paradise between those slim legs. Exhaling slowly, I fight against the bastard urges threatening to take over my mind. She’s as wild as I’d hoped. Confident. Everything I want in my bed for a few nights.

I stand and take off my vest.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“The same thing you did, girl. Getting naked.”

She rests her chin on the edge of the tub. “Why?”

“Didn’t you say we’re from the same world?”

“That doesn’t mean I want to see you naked.” She slides to the far side of the hot tub. “But don’t let me stop you, there’s plenty of room in here. Unless you want to pay to play.”

I let out a disappointed growl, knowing she’s full of shit. I caught her looking at my ass a couple times. But if she wants money . . . I reach into my back pocket and take out my wallet. I grab the bills and throw the billfold on the mattress, then gaze at her. She hasn’t moved. I strut to the Jacuzzi and fan the paper out, a mix of hundreds, twenties, and tens.

“What’s that for?” she frowns and then looks up at me.

“Pay to play?” I use her words, wanting to offend her.

“Asshole!” She snatches the wad out of my hand so fast I don’t have a chance to stop her.

“What the fuck?”

She submerges the bills under water. A few seconds later, they resurface, a thousand dollars floating on top.

We glower at each other, silent, daring the other to make the next move. But the moment is broken by a loud knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I call without taking my eyes off her.

“Diaz.”

“The door is locked. But come in.” I hear him insert a key into the lock. “This isn’t settled, Serafina, trust me.”

“I know,” she whispers, a hint of regret in her raspy voice.