I watch her eyes widen in fear but I’m beyond clemency. She could cry, beg and scream at me but it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. The demons that I fight with everyday have taken over and they’re calling all the shots. I can only see in colors of her pain and my power. Something inside broke when she said my name. It was too much to hear her soft, husky voice deliver something so tainted. It crossed an invisible line, more than her job or her personal vendetta against my brother and me.

Joseph didn’t hold back on the details earlier. He showed me a couple of her articles. Every sentence laced with contempt and hostility for our world… And I forced her into my inner sanctum? The one woman who will do everything and anything to bring us down.

I’m not immune to it, I know exactly what the fuck we do, but somehow seeing it through her eyes kept twisting at something inside. I’ll never leave this business. My past dictates my future. I’m a Santiago, a wanted man with a voracious bloodlust, which means there is no neat diversion or easy way out for me. Once she figures out who I am the deceit will destroy us. In the meantime I need to distance myself and erect some fucking barriers. This is just sex now for my own gratification.

I lasted five minutes in sector six. I was too impatient to get back to her. I barely glanced at the two snitch DEA agents we’d bought back as trophies from Miami. Strung up and worked over, one had actually started pissing himself when he saw me, the foul stench of urine making Joseph unleash his fists on him again. The other stayed silent, resigned to his fate. Hoping for a quick death, which, under the circumstances, I was prepared to give him. Picking up the knife, I calmly appeased my anger until their blood ran like crimson streams around my feet and the familiar sharp metallic tang in the air soothed my senses.

“Clean this mess up,” I’d snarled at Manuel, ripping off my ruined shirt, “and then I want everyone out of sector one. Go put some fucking target practice in on the range.”

Truth is, I wanted to be left alone to deal with her. I know my own rules. I don’t let them close. I take what I want and then I leave, so why not her? What makes her so special? Why turn my back on a way of life that’s been good to me for the last fifteen years? She needs to suffer for putting me in this position, for testing my limits and making me feel things I haven’t felt for a long time. I’m craving the oblivion that fucking her brings me but today I’ll have it in a way that’s going to be unpalatable. I’m going to inflict pain, break her spirit and bring her round to my way of thinking. It’s just the way things have to be.

“Don’t move,” I say harshly, wrenching her hands above her head and fingering the neckline of her white dress, testing the durability of the material. She flinches away, which only irritates me more. “I said, hold the fuck still!”

I yank hard, the silky fabric disintegrating in my hands, ripping and tearing right the way down to her navel and exposing those fuckable full breasts with their dusky-pink nipples. They’re angering me too now. She didn’t bother putting on her bra earlier, the bitch was too desperate to run. A deep guttural growl erupts from my throat and I don’t stop shredding and tearing until the whole of the front of her dress is ruined.

My fists clench around the bunched material. Her bare skin is calling me, so soft, tantalising and treacherous… She’s trembling all over but the aroma of her body makes me pause. I smell fear on her but I smell something else as well…

I glance at her face. The look that greets me is like a sucker punch to the gut. She’s staring right at me, breathing hard, her blue eyes dilated with lust. That’s when it hits me. My senses are being tantalized by the sweet scent of her excitement.

Son of a… She’s enjoying this.

And just like that all of my depravity goes out the window. I don’t want her that way anymore, she deserves better.

I come for her then, burying my fists into her hair and crushing her mouth with my own. I can’t think straight. My colors have shifted to hunger and desire. She kisses me back with the same fierceness as I drag her arms down to form a chain around my neck. She tightens her hold on me straightaway, pressing her body against my own as I groan long and deep into her mouth.

“Do you like that, mi alma?” I growl. “Do you like it when I play rough?”

“Yes, she gasps, “give me more, show me everything, take me with you.”

Take you? Jesus Christ, I don’t need to be told twice.

Sliding my hands underneath her ass, she takes the cue and wraps her thighs against my waist as I slam her back against the palm tree. The loose ends of her ruined dress get trapped between us in my haste and I yank them out of the way. I have to bury my cock inside her before I explode.

Pinning her between the tree and my pelvis, I tear open the front of my jeans, wrench her panties to one side and impale her in one rough thrust. I nearly lose my mind when her wetness and warmth envelops me, drawing me deeper and deeper inside her body. At the same time I hear her cry out in a jagged chorus of surprise and ecstasy.

“Say my name!” My voice is harsh and needy. “Let me hear you scream it.”

“Dante! Dante! Dante!” she gasps, each new intone timing perfectly with my every assault.

“That’s right, my angel,” I say hoarsely, seeking out her lips again and forcing my tongue between her teeth, fucking her mouth at the same time as her sex. This is so much more than oblivion; it’s fiercer and stronger than anything I’ve ever known.

I fuck her like I haven’t fucked in a year, like I haven’t fucked her all last night or this afternoon. This is what she does to me. Every time is fresh and different. She whips me up into a frenzy and makes me want her more and more.

I’m so violent with my desire that I thrust my tongue deep inside her mouth and she chokes. I can’t help myself. She tastes too good and I want to savour everything. I can’t temper my pace or intensity, my self-control is in pieces. I can feel her inner muscles squeezing my cock as her own restraint detonates around me.

“Come for me!” I roar, tearing my mouth from hers and she screams again. She tenses and then slackens in my arms and I feel like a fucking god. “Yesss.” I groan as my own orgasm spirals me into a temporary void where nothing else exists except us.

A strange sense of peace settles over me afterwards and we stay locked together until our pulses steady and slow. She’s limp in my arms but she’s so slim I can support her weight easily. The quietude is transforming into a deep, satisfying ache now, more physical than emotive.

Sliding out of her, I lower her body to the floor. Her wrists are still bound around my neck. I remove her arms and set about untying her, running my thumbs lightly over the red wheals where my rope has chafed her skin. I feel a sense of pride in them. They’re a symbol of our desire for one another, a brand that I want to leave on her body every time we fuck.

Once free of me, she turns away and tries to cover herself with what’s left of her dress.

“Don’t,” I say harshly, removing her hands and unfurling her fingers, sliding the ruined dress off her shoulder until she’s naked except for her white panties. She doesn’t stop me; she just stares at me with an unreadable expression on her beautiful face. I take a step back and remove my t-shirt in one fluid movement. “Put your arms up.”

Her gaze lingers over my abs and I can’t resist a quick smirk. My angel likes what she sees but doesn’t she know? She’s staked a claim over me already whether she wants it or not, from the dark soul lurking beneath these muscles to this God-given face…

I slide my t-shirt over my head and tug it into position. It’s so large on her that it falls almost to her knees. It’s a shame to cover up those breasts but I know she’ll feel more comfortable like this. Besides, I’ll kill any man who lays his eyes on them. No one else will ever get to taste her again. Fuck doubt. Fuck all the reasons we shouldn’t be together. Right now this pull between us is stronger than all of that.

“I preferred the dress,” she says offering me up a shy smile and I find myself wanting to want to make her smile like that more often.

“I think that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on,” I say dryly, scooping her up into my arms.

“Hey,” she squeals, squeezing my bicep.

“Settle in for the ride, my angel,” I murmur, walking with her down to the water’s edge to wash the sin from our bodies.

She falls asleep in my arms as I carry her back into the house, clean and replete, her head resting lightly against my shoulder. I can still smell traces of my scent on her skin and it’s making me hard again.

Kicking the front door shut, I hear soft laughter coming from the kitchen as the girls prepare dinner. I imagine we caused quite a spectacle earlier. Eve and her delicate, ethereal beauty has been the subject of much gossip in my household over the past few days. They won’t open their mouths, though. I surround myself with unwavering loyalty. If I suspect the alternative then that person is dealt with swiftly and decisively. There’s too much at stake, and even more so now. It’s been this way ever since I was forced back into the family fold fifteen ears ago, the day my own flesh and blood betrayed me. Joseph runs checks on every single person that sets foot in my compound, from the maids in the house to the commanders and captains in my army.

I pause when I reach my bedroom door and then walk straight past it, choosing to enter the next room instead. There are too many bad memories for Eve in there, too many knives to slice at these fragile strands that bind us. Something shifted between us this afternoon and I find myself wanting to protect it at all costs.

She stirs as I lay her down on the bed and I watch her eyelids flitter open. When she realizes she’s back inside the house again she sits bolt upright with a cry.

“Shhh, my angel,” I croon, sitting down on the bed next to her and brushing a strand of dark silk away from her face. “I will never lock you away again. You have my word.”

I’m encouraged when she doesn’t flinch away from my touch. Her eyes are wide and wary, though. She wants to trust me but she can’t. Not yet. It’s no more than I deserve after the way I’ve treated her.

“What is this room?” she asks softly.

“One of my spares. I’ll have your things bought here immediately.”

I move to stand up but she grabs my arm, and a second later she’s flat on her back underneath me, her hands pinned above her head.

“No sudden movements, remember?” I mutter, clocking the terror on her face and releasing her straightaway. She rubs at her wrists and winces.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head and bites her lower lip. I can tell she’s lying.

Fuck.

We stare at each other for a moment – me, full of something perilously close to regret and her, just thoughtful. I can see her formulating questions in her mind constantly, drinking everything in with those dangerous blue eyes.

“You err mentioned my things? I didn’t think–”

“I had clothes flown over from the main island this morning,” I say brusquely, rising to my feet. “Plus some toiletries and make-up.”

“Thank you.”

No, thank you. This woman has no idea she’s just given me the fuck of my life.

“The bathroom’s through there,” I say, gesturing to an archway in the corner. “I need to make a few calls and then I’ll be back.” I walk over to the French doors and turn the key in the lock. The doors open easily, the incoming breeze catching at the white muslin curtains. All my bedrooms have balconies that face the ocean. I like to prettify the true immorality of this place with minor details such as these.

“Can I go out there?”

There’s a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She hates being indoors. Keeping her locked away in my bedroom was the cruelest thing I could have done to her. I grit my teeth as that unfamiliar feeling claws at my insides again.

“Of course.” I move towards the bedroom door and watch her glance around the room.

“There’s no mosquito net in here,” she says, more as a statement than a question.

“No, not in here. That reminds me…” I walk back over to the nightstand, open the top draw and take out a pack of antimalarial medication that I store in every guest bedroom. “Here,” I say, handing her the silver blister pack, growing impatient when I watch the fear re-emerging in her eyes. “I’m not trying to poison you, my angel. Quite the opposite. They’re prophylactics.”

She takes the blister pack and examines it closely, her exquisite face folding into a frown. “Antimalarials? But shouldn’t I have been taking them–?”

“I was having them crushed up and put in your food.”

“Of course you were,” she says, a trace of bitterness in that melodious voice. “But these would mean I’m in–”

“Africa.”

“Africa?” She looks stunned. “But I’ve never even left America before. How can I be in Africa?” She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them close to her body. She looks like a child with my t-shirt swamping her slender frame.

“Quite simple. I flew you here.”

She gives me a barely perceptible roll of her eyes and I feel my cock stirring. She’s testing her boundaries again. “Well I figured that out for myself, smart-ass.”

Smart-ass? I’ve been called many things in my lifetime but never that.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, my angel,” I say sounding disapproving.

“And captivity does?”

That’s my signal to leave. “Enjoy the view. I’ll be back in an hour. We’ll have dinner and I’ll introduce you to some of my staff.”

I’m not sure if she’ll agree to this but it’s a pleasant surprise when she nods.

“I’d like that. It won’t make me feel like such a…”

“Prisoner?” I offer coolly.

“Yes, prisoner,” she says, fixing her blue sapphires on me. I see reproach there and my semi hardens into something else entirely.

Oh, my angel, was that another flash of defiance?

I need to get out of here before my craving takes hold. Joseph’s downstairs pacing the halls. We need to sign off on this merchandise.

“I’ll get one of the girls to send up champagne,” I say pausing in the doorway.

“Champagne?” she says, raising her eyebrows at me.

“Your drink of choice, my angel. You were holding a bottle when I introduced myself to you that first night.”

Her mouth falls open. “Introduced yourself? More like barged in and totally screwed up my life!” Her soft voice rises to an indignant screech.

Seeing the hurt flaring in her eyes, I make my way back over to her. I need to appease her. I have no desire to fight. “It’s certainly been one of my more impulsive decisions,” I say, leaning over the bed and giving her a hard kiss on the lips. “But I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Then I’ll make sure I avoid that particular liquor store in future,” she retorts, turning her head away. But they’re just words. She doesn’t mean it. This blazing intensity between us does all the talking we need. “Besides, I don’t drink. I only buy it for friends and special occasions.”

“Like meeting me?” I say dryly.

There’s a pause. “Like my birthday.”

Shit.

“Well, wasn’t I the perfect present,” I murmur, straightening up and heading for the door.