by Nina Levine
He calls and I debate not answering him. My heart, however, craves him. I’m helpless but to take the call.
“I’m not coming to your room simply because you demand my presence,” I say, willing myself to not give in.
“I have precisely twenty minutes before my next meeting. We have things to discuss. Don’t make me come to you.”
His deep voice with that thick Colombian accent I love hits me where it always does, low in my belly. It also sends need racing through every vein in my body, and messes with my ability to think straight.
Javier might be an asshole, but he’s one I struggle to resist.
“If you want to talk, that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do,” I say. “I’ll be in my room in five minutes.”
I end the call without bothering to tell him my room number.
I have no doubt he already knows it.
2
Javier
“I’m taking it by the look on your face she hasn’t changed,” Lorenzo says.
I eye my brother as I slip my phone into my trousers. “She will.”
He lifts his brows. “I think you’re underestimating her ability to fight you and test you.”
He’s wrong that I’m underestimating her, but not wrong that she will test me. Emilia Sanchez was put on this earth to do just that. The redheaded beauty who will be my wife will take some managing, but by the time she vows to honor me, she will mean every word she utters, and that will involve respecting my authority. I will ensure it.
I pocket the room key. “I’ll be back in time for our meeting with Jose.”
“And dinner tonight if he suggests it?”
“No. I’ll be having dinner with Emilia.”
“This might be our one shot at Jose.”
“I’m aware. I’m also aware that our one shot at fixing the shit our family is in with the Sanchez’s rests on my marriage to their daughter, so how about you take care of what you need to while I handle my end of it all.”
“Fuck,” he mutters before nodding his agreement.
I exit the suite and stride to the elevator, my thoughts entirely on Emilia when they should be on the problems the cartel’s currently facing. This is the reason why marrying her is the worst thing I could do. However, as much as I tried to find a way around it, I couldn’t. Joining the Torres and Sanchez families is the only way to unite us after all the blood that’s been spilled. Without our marriage, there will be no trust between the families to allow the cartel to function as it should.
My family founded the Estrada Cartel three decades ago, however, we’ve always relied on the Sanchez family to work with us. My father formalized that relationship nineteen years ago when he brought Emilia’s father on as his second-in-command. This worked well until a year ago when her brothers didn’t approve of some decisions my father made. The divide it caused led to bloodshed within the organization that we can’t sustain. Eight weeks ago, the families sat down to talk and came to an agreement that would ensure an end to this bloodshed and a way forward for the cartel. We will be joined by my marriage to Emilia, and both families will have a stake in the cartel.
I ride the elevator down one level and locate Emilia’s room. She takes her time answering my knock, but I don’t expect anything less. This woman has a way of pressing all my buttons without even trying. Keeping me waiting is just one of her methods.
“Javier,” she finally greets me, as beautiful as ever.
I run my gaze over her body and the strapless white jumpsuit covering it. Emilia always did love jumpsuits, but I know why she’s chosen to wear this one today, and it has nothing to do with her preference, and everything to do with mine. She knows I prefer her in a dress. This is Emilia stating her defiance.
Entering her suite, I glance around, noting the lack of anything I’d usually expect in a room occupied by a woman. There are no shopping bags holding expensive clothes and shoes; no clothes strewn across the bed; no mess of make-up or other personal belongings. Emilia is a rare breed of woman. One who spends her time making power moves in her business rather than shopping, gossiping, or making demands on the man in her life. She’s the type of woman I don’t usually seek out, but one I’m attracted to.
Emilia left Colombia and moved to America when she was nineteen. She studied business and finance, and started her own successful business helping women with their finances. She began expanding that business last year, servicing her established base in other areas. I’ve kept up with every move she’s made; her current one into health and beauty being the one I believe will make her more successful than any of the others. And that’s saying something because her success if already astounding.
“I’d like us to have dinner tonight,” I say, meeting her gaze. It’s been far too long since I’ve looked into those green eyes of hers, and fuck if they don’t affect me. They always did and I don’t see that changing any time soon. However, my response to how they affect me will be different this time around. I won’t allow it to be what it once was. I can’t allow that.
“I’m busy tonight.”
“Make yourself unbusy.”
She stares at me like she wants to take what I just said and ram it down my throat. “You can’t come back into my life after two years of nothing and presume to be the boss of me simply because we’re getting married, Javier. That’s not how this works.”
“That’s exactly how this works, Emilia, and you know it.”
“Why? Because you’ll be in charge of the cartel after the weekend? You don’t seriously think the power that brings you will also bring you power over me, do you?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”
“I’m doing it for what I assume is the same reason you are. For my family.”
“Yes. As such, I expect you to behave like my wife.”
“I can only imagine what you expect of a wife, but what you’re going to get is a woman who expects equality in a relationship. And as such, I won’t ever be ordered to make myself unbusy when I have something important on.”
I work my jaw.
I expected her to fight me, but perhaps Lorenzo was right; perhaps I underestimated her.
“You’re still pissed that I ended our relationship,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “I’m pissed at how you ended it. We’ve known each other since we were fifteen, and we’ve been through a lot. I never expected you to treat me the way you did.”
Emilia has no idea why I did what I did, and she can never find out. As far as I’m concerned, she can continue thinking I wanted the relationship to end. She can also continue thinking I’m an asshole for telling her I was done with the relationship and then showing up with another woman on my arm at a dinner that night. A dinner she and I were supposed to attend together.
“You need to move past that. There’s a lot at stake with the cartel, and in particular, with your brothers. They’re looking for unity between our families. You and I need to give them that.”
Her lips flatten. She’s fucking beautiful, but when she’s pissed at me, her beauty is undeniable, as much as I want to deny it. “You never fail to find a way to work things in your favor, do you?”
“Trust me, Emilia, if any of this was in my favor, this marriage would not be happening.” I check my watch. “I have a meeting. I’ll expect you in my suite at seven tonight.”
Without waiting for her response, I turn and exit her room, certain of only one thing.
I need to strengthen my resolve to keep Emilia at arm’s length.
She’s already testing the determination I had.
I can’t afford for her to shatter it completely.
3
Emilia
Seven o’clock comes and goes without my appearance at Javier’s suite as ordered. I’d already arranged a Zoom meeting with Bob to go over his new proposal. I wasn’t changing that for Javier.
My phone sounds with a text at 7:01 p.m.
Javier: Where a
re you?
Me: I informed you I was busy. If you’re nice to me, I may come to your suite once I’m finished what I’m doing.
Javier: I have another meeting at 8pm.
Me: It’s good to know you scheduled an entire hour for your fiancé.
Javier: Don’t keep me waiting.
“Emilia,” Bob says over Zoom, drawing my attention back to our conversation. “Are we going to come to an agreement on this tonight?”
“If you agree to give me another 5 percent, we will.”
“Fuck,” he says, looking pained. We’ve been going back and forth for an hour on this, and I know I’m beating him down, so if he says no, I just need to keep going. However, he exhales and nods before saying, “I’ll give you another 5 percent.”
“Good decision, Bob. This is going to bring you a lot of money.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I would have preferred that extra 5 percent.”
He should have done better homework on me. Everyone I do business with knows I don’t back down. They know I always get what I want.
“I’ll have the new contract drawn up and sent over first thing tomorrow,” I say, and we end the call.
I close my laptop and take a deep breath as I think about what I have to do now.
Javier.
I have to have dinner with the man who will be my husband in less than forty-eight hours.
God knows what he wants to discuss. My guess is he’ll attempt to tell me how our marriage will be run, at which point he’ll discover what I think of that idea.
With one last check of my appearance, I exit my room and head up to the next floor. I made sure to choose a red dress for tonight even though wearing a dress for Javier is the last thing I want to do. I have my reasons, though, the low-cut style with a slit that reveals my toned leg chosen for maximum attention.
I can’t afford to ever relax with Javier.
Not my thoughts, my feelings, or my ability to keep him on his toes.
This dress will help with that.
I arrive at 7:14 p.m. and immediately sense the caged energy surrounding him. The one thing I know for sure with Javier is that he’s unpredictable at the best of times, and these are not the best of times, so I have no idea of predicting what he will say or do. If his body language is anything to go by, I need to remain on high alert. He’s made of stone tonight.
“Sit,” he orders, gesturing at the dining table situated in one of the glass balconies of the suite. I’ve stayed in some of the most luxurious penthouses around the world, but this one takes my breath away.
We’re 700 feet above Manhattan with 360-degree views. The cathedral ceilings, lacquered walls with mother-of-pearl inlays, plush carpet, sleek accents, and cut-glass chandelier that glitters like a piece of diamond above the dining table steal my attention from the imposing man I’m here to see.
Only for a few moments, though.
Javier makes sure of that.
He moves behind me while I gaze out at the city, places his hand on my hip, and brings his mouth to my ear. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting. Don’t do it again.”
His touch scatters need through me, and my body goes to war with my head.
Goddamn it, I do not want to feel any desire for this man, but I’ve never been able to switch it off. Not even after what he did two years ago, and not even when he’s being an asshole. I’ve kept tabs on him in those two years, never letting him go fully, and here I am, still wanting him.
Without moving, I say, “And I don’t appreciate your way of handling me.”
He exhales and I feel his frustration. “You require managing if this marriage is to work.”
I spin to face him, my own irritation flaring. “This marriage will work because I’ll make sure it does. Your management of me will piss me off, though, and you won’t enjoy the fallout of that, so I suggest you rework your assumptions of how this is going to go.”
His nostrils flare while those eyes of his darken. “Sit,” he orders again, and I know now is not the time to push him further than I already have. Javier has his limits; of that I am very aware. I’m also aware it was likely those limits that caused him to walk away from me two years ago. This time, he can’t walk away. God knows what his preferred method of dealing with me will be once we’re married.
I sit and watch as he moves to the other end of the table. It’s not a long table; only six people could sit at it comfortably, but there are only two chairs. Javier is still wearing the suit he wore earlier today, and I can’t help but indulge my desire to run my eyes over his body as he moves. Damn him for being so good looking. And damn him for wearing suits like no other man can. And that black dress shirt he’s teamed the suit with? It’s sexy in a way I wish it wasn’t. All I can imagine is running my hands over it and his muscles, up to his neck, before kissing him.
Jesus.
I reach for the glass of wine his butler has just filled for me and take a long gulp. I regret the way I take that sip the second Javier’s eyes look at me knowingly. The bastard never misses a thing.
He sits back in his seat and assesses me some more before saying, “We need to lay some ground rules.”
Right, straight into it.
I can get on board with this.
“Agreed.”
“I have my apartment in New York and my home in Medellin. You will divide your time between the two with me.”
This demand is not unexpected, but it doesn’t work for me. I shake my head. “No, my work is here. I will move into your apartment here.”
His lips flatten. “No. You will go where I go.”
My forehead wrinkles. “There’s no need for that. Neither of our families expect that.”
“I expect that.”
My frown remains. “Whatever for?”
“You will be my wife, Emilia. That is what I expect of a wife.”
“I will be your wife in name only.”
“You will be my wife in more than name.”
I blink as my pulse quickens. Surely, he can’t mean what I assume he means. “You’re going to need to be more specific there.”
His eyes don’t stray from mine. “We will be married, and while we might not love each other, I will require you to be a wife in every way a woman is a wife.”
My breaths come faster as I stare at him, stunned. This is not how I saw this going. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not fucking you, Javier. That’s what you’ll have mistresses for.”
He reaches for his drink, still with his eyes boring into mine. “I won’t take a mistress.”
No, no, no.
I can’t sleep with him.
I won’t sleep with him.
He already owns my heart; I can’t allow him to own my body as well.
He will ruin me completely. Absolutely. Without question.
I shove my chair back and stand. “I agreed to marry you. I did not agree to live with you or to sleep with you, and I will never agree to those things.”
I’m halfway to the door of the suite when his strong arm circles my waist from behind. Halting me, he pulls my body flush against his while gripping me so tightly I struggle for breath. Mouth against my ear, he growls, “Perhaps I need to remind you of how much you like fucking me.”
Before I have a chance to gather my scrambled thoughts, he brings his other hand to the slit in my dress and reaches under it to slide his fingers inside my panties.
Oh. God.
I thought I remembered how good it felt to have him, but I’ve forgotten.
There’s not another man alive who brings me to life the way Javier does.
I sag against him, helpless but to allow him to continue on his path to my destruction.
“I remember exactly how you like me to fuck you, Emilia,” he says, circling his finger over my clit and uttering words my heart wants more of.
I want to tell him to stop.
I also want to tell him to never ever stop.
&nbs
p; I’m so screwed.
He runs his fingers through the wetness I can’t hide from him, no matter how much I want to. “Do you want me inside you?”
No.
Never.
Yes.
“No.” I place my hand over his on my waist and attempt to pry his fingers from me. “I want you to stop what you’re doing.”
His strength is no match for mine. I’m unable to force him away. Instead, I only succeed in encouraging him to hold me harder against him. “You don’t want me to stop. You want this,” he says before pushing two fingers inside me.
My legs go weak as he builds my pleasure.
As he chases my fall.
“I don’t,” I manage to grit out.
He reaches deeper inside me. “Stop fighting me.”
“I will never stop fighting you.”
“And yet, here you are, in my arms, fucking dripping for me.”
Deeper, deeper, deeper.
His fingers are far too good at what they’re doing.
My head falls against his shoulder and my back arches as the bliss becomes too much.
“You will be my wife in all the ways I demand. Say it.”
“No.”
He withdraws his fingers and I want to beg for them back, but I will never beg this man for a thing.
“Say it.” His tone turns darker.
“No. I refuse to say it and I refuse to agree to it.”
He moves before I realize what’s happening, taking me with him to the sofa. Bending me over the back of it, he presses his erection against my ass while curling a hand around my neck. I curse the fact I like his dominance so damn much.
“I would prefer not to drag this out,” he rasps. “But if I have to, I will.”
“You’ll be dragging it out for life, then.”
His fingers dig into my skin harder as he pushes my dress up with his free hand. “Do you still like to be fucked here?” he asks, running his finger over the crack of my ass through my panties.
Again, I want to beg him for those fingers, right where he has them, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “I’m not doing this with you, Javier.”