Queen’s Move: Book Two of The Queens
Page 9
“It’s too late,” he said, his voice a low rumble as his eyes were drawn to her exposed stomach, where her top had ridden up. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Perfect curves, silky skin.”
“It’s not too late!” she cried out. “What do you want from me? I’ll give it to you. Do you want to fuck? We can do that, just promise you’ll let me go.”
He gave her a chiding look. “You are worth so much more than just a fuck, Vee. Don’t underestimate yourself.”
She blew her bangs out of her face, annoyed and frustrated, still a little afraid, although she was about ready to believe he had no intention of killing her. “I’m worth exactly what I say I’m worth,” she snarled. “Wouldn’t be the first time I traded sex for favours.”
He stared down at her, his gaze heated. She didn’t know what he was thinking. If he was pissed off, pitying, contemptuous. Finally, he replied, “I really think you believe that.”
“Of course I do!” she said, yanking on her wrists, trying to free them from his grip. “I used to fuck Tony for all kinds of things. Jewelry, money, drugs, the right to breathe.”
His fingers tightened around her hands. He hadn’t liked that. “I meant,” he said, his voice taking on a hard edge, “that you believe you aren’t worth much.”
She frowned. What the fuck was this? A therapy session? Was he trying to raise her sense of self-worth, give the old self-esteem a boost? “You’re a strange man,” she said drily. “Fine, I’m worth a lot. Like, how about a city? Yeah, I’m probably worth the cost of Miami.”
He chuckled and then stopped, looked surprised. When he looked down at her it was with a peculiar expression, soft, determined, caring. It made her heart trip. “Vee, mi amor, you make me laugh. I don’t do that enough.”
“I’m not trying to be funny, asshole.”
“You don’t have to try to be anything, Elvira. You just are,” he said.
“Don’t call me that!” she practically shouted. “And can we please get on with this, whatever it is. My arms are getting sore from being wrenched around and held down so much.”
His lips curved up and he released her hands. “Whatever the lady wishes.”
Vee snorted and brought her arms down. She shoved herself up the mattress, pressing her back against the headboard. “This lady wants you to die. Immediately, if it’s not too inconvenient.”
He laughed again and reached for her knife, turning his back on her for a second. She eyed the spot right between his shoulder blades. If she had a second knife that’s exactly where it would go.
He turned back to her, gave her tiny pyjamas another heated look and said, “You’ll need to get changed. All that bare skin will freeze in this climate. Frankly, I’m a little shocked that you chose Canada as an escape. It’s vast, easy to get lost, I’ll give you that. But is it worth trying to survive in a frozen wasteland?”
“I happen to love it here,” she gritted, ignoring the inner voice that agreed with him completely. The one upside of his kidnapping her is she was pretty sure he was going to take her back south. Still, she wasn’t going to give him an inch. “Very fucking beautiful.”
She got off the bed cautiously, halfway expecting him to yank her back. He allowed her to stand, following her movements as she paced to the wardrobe and started pulling out clothing. A pair of jeans, a hooded sweater, a pair of panties, bra and socks. When she turned back to him and raised an eyebrow he made no move to leave.
“I’m not changing with you here.”
He stood, his tall frame towering next to the bed. “Then you’ll be leaving dressed like that. It’s going to be a cold trip, but my men will enjoy the view.”
Hatred burned in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, lash out and strike him. If she thought she had even a remote chance of landing a blow she might’ve done it. Instead, she reminded herself that she was a mature adult and that one of these days the tables would be turned. He’d turn his back on her at the wrong time, in the wrong place and she would take extreme pleasure in taking him out.
“I can see your thoughts, my dear.” He didn’t sound angry though. He sounded like he was anticipating her rage, revelling in the experience.
“You are a twisted man,” she growled and yanked on the jeans. She decided against the bra since she had no intention of baring herself in front of him. She was small-chested anyway, didn’t need to wear a bra all the time. She pulled the sweater over her head and then sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as she could get, to put her socks on.
When she finished and looked up, he was standing in front of her reaching a hand out to her. She ignored it and stood on her own, stepping quickly to the side. He didn’t stop her as she left the bedroom.
“Coat and boots,” he told her, following her into the main room. “Wear all of your new winter gear. You’ll need it for the ride to the airport. We have to drive into St. John’s before we can fly out.”
“A little midnight cross-country kidnapping,” she grumbled as she sat on the bench next to the door to pull her boots on. “Sure, why not, why don’t you maim a few people while you’re up here? Really make a vacation out of it. Show Canada who The Butcher is and why he has such a devastating reputation.”
“Vee,” he said her name warningly. “You don’t want to cross the line with me.”
She stood up and yanked her fluffy winter cherry red parka on. She probably needed a few lessons in the art of blending in, but Vee was never one to follow the pack. When she was ready to go, she stood toe-to-toe with Sotza, glaring up at him. This close, without her signature heels, he towered over her.
“You know what, Sotza?” she snarled, poking him in the chest. “You obliterated the line when you came after me, took my city apart and killed half my town. I don’t fucking care about crossing the line with you. In fact, I anticipate it with pleasure.”
Instead of responding to her angry tirade, he caught her hand before she could storm out the door. He fished into his pocket and pulled the engagement ring he’d given her back in Miami, brought her hand up between them and pushed it onto her finger. “This doesn’t come off again, comprende?”
For once, she didn’t argue. His grim expression told her the consequences would be severe.
Chapter Sixteen
“You need to eat.”
Raina clenched her fist around her fork and glowered at Mateo who was sitting to her left at the head of the table. It’d been nearly a week since her kidnapping. The most she’d gotten out of her captor was his name and that they were waiting for her mother to arrive. She had gleaned a hell of a lot more all by herself, since Mateo’s default setting seemed to be silence, even though she taunted him and pushed him at every opportunity.
Raina was pretty sure she’d been taken far south. When she’d woken up she’d found herself on board a private airplane, flying a long way from Pennsylvania. Probably Central or South America given his accent and the easy Spanish that flowed among the house staff when they spoke around her. She figured out that she was staying in the main house or mansion or whatever they called this crazy big house, but there were other buildings on the property. She assumed Mateo lived in one of the other buildings because he didn’t stay in the house with her. She wasn’t allowed to explore beyond the gardens surrounding the house. And she always had an armed escort to ensure she complied. Near as she could tell Mateo was some kind of temporary babysitter, though given his stature and the fearful respect he received from other staff she assumed he did other, more important things with his time.
After a week of watching routines, inspecting the house and gardens and watching the people within, Raina was fairly certain she could escape. Two things stopped her. She still didn’t have a damn clue where she was or how far from civilization she’d been taken. It would majorly suck if she managed to escape only to die in some jungle. The other reason she stayed was because she knew her mother was flying in soon. Though she wanted to be indifferent to her womb donor, she was curious. She ha
d questions to ask and things to say before she was ready to walk away from the woman.
Raina dropped the fork, crossed her arms over her chest and said haughtily, “Eating would imply I condone this kidnapping.” She gave him a cold stare. “In case you’re in doubt, I really don’t.”
He stared boldly back at her, his tanned face emotionless. There was a gleam of something in his dark eyes. She thought maybe appreciation, though she hoped for annoyance. “You don’t look starved to me, chica.”
She glowered. “Are you calling me fat, chico?”
He laughed. “Hardly.” His eyes roved over her sleight curves.
Of course, he wasn’t calling her fat, she barely weighed 115 lbs. She’d been small all her life. Unhappily she’d given up waiting for her boobs to come in about a year ago.
“I mean you look strong enough to me, Señorita. Like you’ve been getting into the kitchen perhaps, eating plenty.”
“And perhaps I simply don’t enjoy enforced mealtimes with the fucker who kidnapped me.”
The smile left his face. He lifted his napkin and dabbed it against his lips. “I will have the kitchen locked up at night, staff will be instructed that you are not to be fed unless it is at the table.”
She tilted her head, long hair sweeping against the back of the chair. “That’s a nasty move, Mateo. Really beneath you, I think.”
“Oh, Señorita Raina, you have no idea how low I can sink.” The look on his face told her he was more than happy to show her just how mean he could be, should she step too far out of line.
“I would really prefer to eat on my own, in my room. Is my company at the evening meal really worth all this?” she asked.
“Absolutamente.” His low voice sent a shiver right down her back.
She gripped the edge of her seat and watched him warily. Raina wasn’t a naïve girl. Though she hadn’t experienced much of the world in her 19 years, she had eyes, attitude and a good solid brain. She knew how things worked. Yet with Mateo she couldn’t figure out what he wanted. One moment she would catch him watching her, intently, maybe lustfully. The next she thought he might want to get his hands on her for another, more violent reason.
He was an intense man. Good-looking in a hard, rugged way. He moved with ease, yet his movements had purpose. As though he thought everything through at lightning speed and then executed. She’d discovered, when he kidnapped her from the campus, just how fast and ruthless he could be. Yet, he hadn’t touched her since their arrival. She got this impending sense that he was simply waiting… for something. Probably her mother’s arrival, but she couldn’t figure out why unless her mother had ordered Raina’s abduction. God, she hoped not. She didn’t need another reason to hate the woman.
She stared down at the food, convinced that he would indeed starve her into submission. If she was smart she would start eating. Still, Raina had never been one to go the easy way. The way people wanted her to go. In fact, the more she felt pushed into something, the less likely she was to do it.
“You ever seen Beauty and the Beast?” she asked. “The Beast tries to starve Beauty unless she agrees to eat with him.”
“Interesting,” he said. “And how does this tale end? Did she die of starvation?”
Raina smirked. “No, the manor staff fed her behind his back. They nourished the heroine when the villain refused her basic sustenance.”
“The difference,” he drawled, “between fairy-tale and reality is that the staff here are human, not clocks and candlesticks. They can bleed, they can hurt and they can die. Very easily, mia chica. These people, they will not help you. They know the consequences of disobeying my orders.”
Her mouth went dry and she had to take a quick swallow of water from the crystal goblet in front of her. “So you know the story,” she snapped, avoiding eye contact. “Could’ve just said in the first place.”
“But I do enjoy sparring with you, sweet Raina.”
Her nostrils flared and she glared hard at the table, still refusing to look up at him. He’d shaken her. She had her suspicions, from the way Mateo spoke, the movements of the staff, the armed guards and they’re location, deep in some kind of jungle well south of the US. Mafia. It was the only thing that made sense. The careless way Mateo spoke of torturing the mansion staff. The ease in which he’d kidnapped her. She thought, maybe she’d somehow gotten caught up in the underworld scene. Who exactly was her mother?
“I think your master will not be pleased with my treatment under your care, Mateo.” She was making a leap in logic, thinking Mateo wasn’t the one who’d had her kidnapped, that maybe he wasn’t the head honcho. Though he was strong, smart and capable enough. “Careful, or I might tell him exactly how you’re mistreating me.”
He dropped his napkin on the table and stood. It took him barely a second and he was right next to her chair, overwhelming her with his size, his scent, his essence. She sat stiffly in her chair, determined not to move. His chin was inches from the top of her head. “No man is my master.”
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, ruffling the fine blond strands. He straightened and strode from the room. She stared after him, for some stupid reason looking forward to their next encounter, the next meal.
She eyed the food in front of her, Atlantic salmon with a dill sauce, sweet peas and herbed rice. It looked delicious, but she’d lost her appetite. She dropped her own napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. It seemed as though she would just have wait until the arrival of her mother. She wasn’t getting a damn thing out of Mateo. No matter which way she baited him, the bastard simply wouldn’t give.
Chapter Seventeen
“This isn’t Miami,” Vee observed, watching from the window as Sotza’s private jet prepared to land. She felt the gentle thump of the wheels lowering.
“You are correct,” Sotza said from beside her, not looking up from his laptop. He’d been on it since shortly after their take-off from St. John’s. He’d seated her, ensured her comfort and introduced her to the flight attendant. Though he didn’t bother to introduce her to the five or six guys sitting further back on the plane. They in turn didn’t look up when Vee was escorted onto the aircraft.
Vee eyed the mountainous rainforest-like land surrounding the small airport. “Pretty sure this isn’t Venezuela either. We haven’t been in the air long enough.”
Sotza closed his laptop and tucked it away into the leather laptop bag. He leaned into her, forcing her to shift away, closer to the window. He glanced past her, out the window and said, “Your knowledge of geography is exemplary, my dear.”
She wanted to scratch his eyes out every time he said something in that deep dry voice with his British accent. It was like being mocked, but so subtly she barely noticed. She suspected this was just Sotza though. He appeared gentlemanly and mild-mannered. Until it was time to go to work.
Two could play that game. Vee was nobody’s fool. She had a good, smart head and she could be as much of an asshole as him. “Putting my excellent knowledge of geography to good use,” she said coolly leaning toward the window again and studying the landscape. “I would say we’re probably in Mexico. Maybe somewhere in the Durango region.”
He looked somewhat impressed. “Well done my dear, but no, we are currently landing in the state of Sinaloa, though we’re very close to the Durango border.”
She should have known. “Business,” she muttered.
“Indeed,” he said, reaching over to fasten her seatbelt as the plane began sharply descending. “We need to refuel somewhere and, since Domingo is no longer an appropriate Mexican contact, I had to find someone else. I will also be discussing business here, with this contact, mitigating some of the damage on the East coast.”
Vee rolled her eyes and tried to shove his hands away, but he persisted until she was properly belted in. “It’s a little hard for Domingo to do much of anything without his head. Good move there, Sotza.”
“You couldn’t control the man,” Sotza said sternly. “He
insulted you at every turn and gave his people orders to attack you. His life could no longer be sanctioned.”
“God help anyone that looks at you funny,” she muttered, staring hard out the window as the plane landed on the runway with a slight bump. From her vantage point, it looked like there were several vehicles further up the runway, ready to meet the plane. Sotza had clearly organized this meeting ahead of time.
“Are you afraid of me, Vee?” Sotza asked gently.
She turned to give him a scathing look, but it fell away as she was forced to take in his regal, rugged features. The seriousness of his expression, the hidden depths buried in his enigmatic gaze. She took in a sharp breath and decided to tell him the truth. “Yes, of course I’m afraid of you. Anyone with half a brain would be. You cause a wake of destruction everywhere you go, but you do it in such a way that everything is perfectly organized to your specifications once the dust has settled. It’s a terrifying prospect to be your captive.”
He reached out and ran his thumb over her lips and down to her chin, pinching it slightly before dropping his hand. “The world can fear me, Vee. In fact, the world should fear me. I will rip it to shreds one piece at a time to get at what I want. And I’ll enjoy every moment,” he said, a small flicker of savage emotion deep in his dark brown eyes. “But you will never have need to fear me.”
She studied him for a moment. “Then let me go.”
He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood. She realized the plane had stopped and unbuckled her own belt. He stood in front of her, blocking her path. “Never that, Vee,” he said, reaching out a hand to help her up. “Don’t ask again.”
“Fine, I won’t ask again. I’ll just leave.”