Hearts Of Darkness (The Santiago Trilogy Book 1)

by Catherine Wiltcher

  Leaving.

  “Better than he was,” Rick says tactfully, turning to address the pretty waitress who’s appeared next to him. “More champagne, please, sweetheart… You’ll be pleased to hear that he’s acquired himself an island. I’ve just spent the last five weeks out there in his company.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  Rick grins again. “Not all of us can stay celibate for that length of time, Miss Miller. Neither can we stay committed to just one woman.” I feel those mocking eyes on me again, swirling over my face with interest. At me. The woman who has bought the great Dante Santiago to his knees. “Besides, I have other business interests that require my attention. This happens to be one of my clubs.”

  “How’s his shoulder?”

  “Healing.”

  Is he ever coming back for me?

  I want to ask the question so badly but I’m terrified of the answer. Instead, I watch Rick pour out three flutes of champagne and hand one to me. Manuel waves his away.

  “To Dante Santiago,” he declares.

  I return the toast and drink deeply, more out of nerves than anything else.

  “What about the other problem?” Manuel asks. He’s still looking tense. Despite Rick’s charm and claims of unswerving loyalty I can tell he’s still undecided about him.

  “Evading termination.” He leans forward to snap open the front button of his jacket. His expression doesn’t look quite so genial anymore.

  “And their business?” I ask.

  “Currently being ripped apart by circling vultures. I think it’s safe to say that the Santiago reign is over. Still, between you and me I’m not sure Dante’s heart was in it anymore…” My head jerks up. Rick is appraising me above the rim of his flute. “I believe he’s exploring new ventures these days.”

  “What sort of ventures?”

  “Now, that would be telling.” He smirks and taps a long finger against the side of his glass.

  Still illegal then.

  “Is he watching me right now?”

  “He’s always watching you, Miss Miller. All angles. Twenty-four hours a day. But you knew that already.”

  “Is he here in your club?”

  Rick pauses a fraction too long.

  “Then why doesn’t he want to see me?”

  “I can’t answer that, Miss Miller.”

  “Then fuck you!” Banging my flute down on the glass table, I rise to my feet and walk quickly towards a black door labeled ‘private’. I’d already scoped it out when we first arrived.

  “Miss Miller… Eve… stop!”

  Ignoring him I smack my palms against the door and find myself in the club’s security room. There are dozens of monitors mounted on the wall depicting hundreds of people but not a soul in here. I can still smell him, though. There’s a lingering trace of his aftershave in the air. It’s like he’s left it behind to taunt me with.

  “Damn you, Dante,” I whisper. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I’m sorry, Eve.” Rick appears in the doorway behind me, looking sheepish.

  “He told you to stall me, didn’t he?” I say bitterly. “He knew I’d seen him. He needed the time to slip away. Why?”

  Is this it?

  Has Dante changed his mind?

  Does he ever want to see me again?

  Rick just shrugs. “Things are a mess for him right now. You know he has his reasons.”

  “Yeah, he’s always got plenty of those.” I push past him and head for the stairs with Manuel following close behind.

  Anna catches up with us as I’m heading for the cloakroom to collect my coat. “Hey, did you find that guy you were looking for?” She looks down and sees my ticket in my hand. “Oh, where do you think you’re going?”

  “I think horseback riding was more than enough excitement for me,” I say, forcing a yawn and a smile.

  She concedes with a sigh, enveloping me in a quick hug. She knows that today has been a huge step forward. “I’m still proud of you, even though you’re ditching me at 10pm on a Saturday night. You ok if I stay awhile longer? Shall I get the guys behind the bar to call you a cab?”

  “Thanks but no need. There are a couple outside already.”

  “I can’t tempt you to stay?” she says turning to Manuel but he shakes his head. Poor guy. I can sense his inner struggle from all the way over here.

  Anna goes to say something else and then I see her gaze shift to just over my left shoulder. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open to form a perfect ‘o’. “Holy shit, Evie, you have got to get a load of this man,” she whispers.

  I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. I don’t even need to see Manuel take a diplomatic step away from me. All of a sudden my every nerve is on fire. That beat has exploded between my legs and I’m quivering with lust even before the rich, potent scent of his masculinity hits my senses. Once there was a time when it produced nothing but fear and revulsion in me. Now it’s a guaranteed hotline to red-hot heat and promise.

  “Hello, my angel,” he purrs softly into my ear, his voice so velvety-smooth and deadly and so goddamn sexy I want to drop to my knees and worship it. “Have you missed me?”

  27

  Eve

  “Holy crap, do you know this guy, Evie?”

  Anna looks shocked in a not-so-flattering way but it’s like I’m hearing her from inside a bubble. There’s only him and me in this club now, everyone else has faded from view. He’s standing right behind me. His crotch is so close to my ass I can feel the outline of his erection and it’s sending my body into overdrive.

  “Sebastian Días,” he announces smoothly, extending his hand to Anna and deliberately brushing against my waist as he does. I jump sideways as if branded, as if this brief physical connection with him has seared my skin. Glancing down, I see the thick forearm with its olive skin and the light dusting of black hair – so familiar, so desired. I’m filled with a compulsion to grab hold of it and push it downwards to the place i’m craving him the most, just like that time in Africa. To feel those thick fingers sliding inside me again.

  “Anna Williams. So err how do you guys know each other?” my friend stutters, jerking her hand away from him and shooting me the mother of all WTF looks.

  “We met a while back,” Dante explains vaguely, as if I was nothing more than a passing flirtation at the back of a board meeting. “Manuel, why don’t you take Miss Williams up on her offer to dance? I’ll be happy to stay with Eve.”

  Manuel nods a little too enthusiastically. “Of course, Señor Días… Anna?”

  But Anna doesn’t budge. She keeps looking at me for guidance. She’s unsure if she should leave me alone with this dark and dangerous creature. “How do you know Manuel?” she asks suspiciously.

  “We grew up in the same town in Colombia,” Dante says without missing a beat.

  “It’s ok, Anna,” I say forcing another smile. “You go. Sebastian can walk me to a cab.”

  “Only if you’re sure…” She shoots another wary glance at Dante.

  “I am. Go, have fun,” I urge, sliding my gaze to Manuel again. There are too many loaded looks happening around here. He gets the gist straightaway.

  “Come,” he says, taking my friend’s hand to lead her over to the dance floor. “I’ve been wanting to dance with you all evening.”

  This seals the deal super-quick, and then there’s just us. Alone again, with my pulse rate climbing to dangerous levels and nervous sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.

  “Aren’t you going to look at me, my angel?” he murmurs. “Aren’t you going to give me the benefit of that divine face?”

  I turn slowly to his sharp intake of breath.

  “There she is,” he breathes, tipping my chin up to stab me a million times over with those unforgiving dark eyes. “The light to all my wickedness and sin.”

  There’s a hint of mockery in his voice but there’s an inherent truth there too. It’s like he’s reveling in our disparities ton
ight and a shiver of uneasiness courses through me.

  My memories haven’t done him any justice. He’s far more beautiful than I remembered. The bruises are gone and there’s a fading scar on his forehead where the red weal used to be. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit and a crisp white dress shirt with the silver-grey tie loosened and the top button undone. I can’t tear my eyes away from those broad shoulders and tapered waist, the long, muscular length of his thighs… I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans or army fatigues but my god this man was born to wear these clothes. He smells fresh and clean like he’s recently taken a shower but there’s another scent that lingers on his skin. It’s one I can’t place. I watch his eyeline drop to my outfit.

  “Come,” he snaps, his mood souring as he takes my arm and leads me towards the exit. “Let’s find somewhere a little more discreet, shall we?”

  He’s commanding all the attention as we leave the club together, which only serves to highlight our disparities more. He’s tall and elegant, his walk a compelling swagger of power and ownership. He’s a king in this world and I’m barely a footnote. He steers me towards an idling SUV with blacked-out windows and I recognise it immediately.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s the same car from the night we met. The very night he took me, bound my body to his for eternity and then walked away. I recall my fear when he forced me onto the backseat, how his fingers felt around my neck, the first pangs of lust as he loomed large and threatening over me… He opens the door. This time I go willingly.

  “Hello again, Miss Miller,” Joseph murmurs from the driver’s seat.

  “Less talking, more driving,” Dante snaps, sliding in next to me. “I spoke with Sanders. The deal is on.”

  What deal?

  I know better than to ask. He’s got that primal ‘fresh from the kill’ look about him again that’s giving off warning signals in all directions. He turns to glare at me as I inch ever so slightly away from him but there’s no move to yank me back. After six weeks apart I’m desperate to taste his dark and all the ecstasy that he brings to my body but I’m too scared to initiate anything right now. Whatever he’s brooding on is pushing him beyond the limits of his control. If I move to touch him I know he’ll hurt me.

  The car pulls away from the curb. He’s gazing out of his window now, his elbow resting on the lip of the door, his chin slotted between his forefinger and his thumb. The muscles are flexing hard in his jaw and there’s a fist clenched in his lap.

  What’s going on?

  The edgy silence persists, peppered only by the whirr of the engine and the swipe of the windshield blades as a light summer shower mottles the glass. Eventually we pull up to a gated mansion right on the waterfront. As we exit the vehicle Dante puts a hand on the hollow of my back and practically shoves me up the front steps and into the property. There are at least twenty armed men stationed around the house and Joseph, as always, is following us in silent, deadly pursuit. He peels off once we’re inside and disappears through an open door to my left.

  “Get upstairs,” Dante growls, barely looking at me as I stand there shivering in his lobby. His sparse furniture and empty walls are a bit like his present mood. Nothing in this house is offering me any warmth. I watch him walk through an archway and into the adjacent living-area.

  “I don’t ask twice, Eve.” His threat floats out from behind another of his bleak white walls.

  “And I don’t jump to your every command,” I say, storming into the room after him. The furniture in here is practically non-existent. There’s a tan leather couch and a mini bar and not much else. My voice reverberates around the huge empty space, sounding weaker and more fragile with every passing echo.

  He turns to face me and I instantly regret my outburst. His dark eyes are completely devoid of emotion. I shouldn’t provoke him when he’s like this, I know exactly what he’s capable of.

  “If you insist on wearing outfits like that, Eve, then I’ll treat you with the little respect you deserve.”

  My skyscraper heels skid to a halt.

  “How dare you!” I screech. “We’re not in your fortress now, Dante. You don’t get to dress me up in pretty white clothes like your angelic fuck doll anymore.”

  Glaring at me, he crosses the room to the mini-bar and pours himself an extra large drink. “You do whatever the fuck I tell you to do,” he says, downing his glass and slamming it back down on the counter. “And when the hell did you start drinking alcohol again?”

  “It’s none of your business! Screw you and your controlling bullshit!”

  He comes for me then, dark and dangerous and utterly mesmeric. “Take it off.”

  I stare at him in shock.

  “Take off that fucking dress, Eve, or so help me god I’ll rip it from your body.”

  His words are like liquid fire to my core. I stagger away from him so he can’t see my naked lust, so he can’t exploit and revel in what he does to me. “Apologize first,” I gasp, trying to compose myself. Sordid images keep invading my mind. I want every single, glorious inch of him on me and in me.

  He’s barely two meters away, and closing in fast. “I never apologize to anyone, my angel, you know that.”

  “You did in Africa. Do it again now or I’m walking right out of this mansion and I’m not coming back.”

  He grinds to a halt and stares at me as if he can’t quite believe I’ve got the balls to speak to him like this. “Don’t make your punishment any worse than it already is. Eve…”

  Other women would be terrified by this threat but I’m not like other women. “Oh I’m counting on it,” I whisper, watching with dark delight as his gaze drops to devour me whole. My defiance does things to this man that no one else can.

  “Ok then, I apologize,” he says softly, taking another step towards me, his dark eyes holding mine captive. “I apologize for demeaning you. I apologize for leaving you for six weeks without my hard cock to satisfy you. I apologize for leaving your soft skin and your fuckable tits so bereft of my touch. I apologize for leaving you without my cum between your legs…” He prowls to a stop right in front of me and runs a leisurely finger down the length of my arm as I try not to flinch away. “But most of all I apologize for the way I’m going to bend you over this couch and fuck you hard until you scream.”

  He lunges for me then, and our mouths collide in mutual frustration. He grabs me by the back of my hair, his fingers knotting painfully around my darkened strands as he skilfully tongue-fucks me, his taste as unique and it is potent. I grasp his thick bicep to steady myself as I moan helplessly into his mouth. No man in the world kisses like Dante Santiago. By some wicked devilry he can affect every part of my body with just a touch of those talented lips.

  I’m tearing blindly at the front of his trousers now. I’m like a woman possessed. I have to have this man inside me.

  “Did you miss me, Eve?” he growls, breaking away to help me out. Ripping at his belt so hard he breaks the buckle.

  “I didn’t miss you being such a smart-ass, control-freak.”

  “But you missed my cock.”

  “Every damn day!”

  “You’re mine mi alma. Don’t ever forget it.”

  With his belt and zipper undone, he spins me around, wrenches my dress up and bends me over. He’s rough with his touch and I gasp in surprise as the lip of the couch bites into my lower stomach. He doesn’t bother to remove my panties any further than a few inches down my thighs before he’s kicking my legs apart and positioning himself.

  “Shit!” I scream as he drives all the way into my body, splitting me into pieces. I’d forgotten how big he is. I’m wet but I’m still struggling to breath through the pain.

  “Take it all,” he orders harshly. “I want your tight cunt gripping every inch of my cock.”

  “Yes, oh yes,” I whimper, pushing back on him greedily despite the discomfort. Accepting everything he has to offer.

  “Hold
tight, my angel, here comes your punishment.”

  He withdraws a fraction only to surge forward again, his new assault just as deep and violent as the first. Giving me no time to catch my breath, he fucks me like this, hard and fast, pinioning me against the leather, his hands like two vices clamped to my hips, forcing me to submit to him over and over. There’s no more dirty talk, no preamble, just an overriding urge to claim back what is his. Pain and pleasure are fusing together. My lungs are on fire. Each new thrust is ripping the air clean out of them and I can feel myself quickening already.

  “Dante!” I sob as the waves of pleasure engulf my body. My tears of relief smear across my face as he continues to grind into me until shockingly the waves start to build again.

  My inner muscles are still rippling with the aftereffects of my second orgasm when he tenses with a groan. I feel his cock jerk inside of me and then he’s pulling out and spinning me around to face him, his seed still spurting from his body. Positioning me on the edge of the sofa, he pulls my legs apart and drops to his knees to feast on my sex, closing his lips around my still-sensitive clitoris and drawing hard.

  “Oh god… oh fuck!”

  Seconds later I’m coming for a third time, crying out and grinding my sex into his mouth to intensify my pleasure. Afterwards I slump forward and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in the sweat and vitality of his crook of his shoulder. He slides to the floor and pulls me down with him, cradling my throbbing body in his arms as we race to catch our breath together.

  “I missed you so fucking much,” I hear him murmur as he nuzzles my hair. “Dreams were like torture. You were so present, so vivid, but when morning came it was like you’d been torn from my arms again.”

  “Then why avoid me tonight?” I ask quietly.

  “It’s complicated,” he sighs.

  “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

  His arms convulse around my shoulders. “Never question my affection for you.” He sounds really angry now. “I meant to leave but I couldn’t get past the exit knowing you were there. I had to see you. I had to taste you. Six weeks is an eternity to be parted from you.” He presses soft lips to my temple and my body shudders in response.