As she started to climb from the bed a vase filled with what had to be at least three dozen roses caught her attention. It was perched on her vanity table. Her mouth fell open in surprise. Somehow the gorgeous arrangement was even more of a shock than waking up in a pile of rose petals. In the ten years that she’d been married to Ignacio, he’d never once bought flowers for her. He’d never even bought her a birthday present. She doubted he knew her birthday had just passed a few weeks ago.
So, the odds that this beautiful gift came from her husband were extremely small. And there was only one other man who was pursuing her with any kind of dedication. Her heart tripped in anticipation as she approached her makeup table and reached for the small, white envelope nestled carefully within the perfect, delicate blooms. She let her fingertips linger against the velvety tips, enjoying the feel of them against her skin; absorbing the quiet loveliness of such a gift. Pretending for just a moment that she was free to accept such extravagance without all the baggage that came between them.
She pulled her hand away and opened the envelope, tugging the plain white card out. It said:
Pink is your colour.
8:00pm tonight,
Room 1228, Plaza condos.
Reyes
She looked toward the bed and then back at the vase. The flowers were pink. He remembered that she couldn’t see colours and he wanted her to know what colour he chose, that he didn’t choose red for her. She let a tiny smile linger on her lips for a moment, allowed the rush of emotion in as she felt what it was like to have a man pay real attention to her. Lavish a gift upon her even though he wouldn’t be there to see her reaction or receive a thank you.
Then reality intruded. She couldn’t allow this to continue; whatever this was. She’d had enough. Ignacio could just work this deal alone. She wasn’t going to allow her emotions to get involved any more than they already were and then get crushed when the big boys were done playing with her. For once she wanted to call the shots, and she was calling this one.
She didn’t bother changing. She walked swiftly into her washroom and pulled her robe over her sleep outfit, washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she strode into the hall where Alonzo stood waiting for her to show her face and tell him her plan for her day. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.
“I want to see him, now,” she informed him, using the best impression of “snotty voice” she could come up with, a useful by-product of her hated Tuesday lunches.
Alonzo flexed his shoulders until they cracked. “You don’t have an appointment.”
Casey huffed out a breath and snarled, “I don’t give a shit. He’s going to see me on my time for once.” She walked past him down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the marble. His eyes widened as he finally looked at her and took in her lack of proper attire. Casey rarely left her bedroom unless she was fully clothed or going to the pool. She glared over her shoulder when Alonzo fell into step behind her. “Unless you plan on touching me, you won’t be stopping me, Alonzo.”
Alonzo didn’t touch her, but he dogged her every step through the mansion toward the foyer. She stormed toward Ignacio’s office, never losing momentum, despite the terrified beating of her heart begging her to reconsider, to remember his temper and the years of hard lessons on obedience and her place within his household. She was too angry to listen to her own common sense. She wanted answers.
The doorknob to Ignacio’s office opened easily under her hand, but she had to shove hard to get the heavy panel to open under her thin frame. It swung wide and she stumbled a little in the doorway, her robe gaping to reveal her long, bare legs. Ignacio looked up from behind his desk. Both he and his second-in-command, Diego, reached for their guns, but seeing a disheveled Casey, they subsided.
After a brief moment of observation, taking in her stubborn stance, Ignacio waved Diego from the room with an annoyed, “Give me ten minutes.”
Casey stepped quickly out of Diego’s way as he approached the door, his cold, malevolent eyes crawling over her body. She quickly twitched the robe back into place and tugged the belt tighter. She despised Ignacio’s second-in-command even more than she hated her own husband. He was the one who delivered her husband’s punishments over the years when Ignacio was too weak-stomached or too busy to follow through. She knew if she was ever truly left in Diego’s care she wouldn’t last long. There was something about the man that took sadistic to a new level. And the way he looked at her made it clear he would love to get his hands on her.
“What do you want, Casey?” Ignacio demanded the moment the door closed behind Diego. “You know better than to burst in here. I don’t have time for you this morning.”
She shivered at the menacing tone of voice Ignacio was treating her to. He was usually cold and distant, but this spelled danger. She forced herself to remember her reason for seeking him out. She needed to remember her outrage. “I’m done playing nice with the Bolivian,” she announced bravely, approaching his desk. “Allowing him to take me to your club was one thing; tacky, but okay, fine. The flowers, though, they’re too much. You allowed another man to send me flowers in our home. The place where we live together. Have you no shame, Ignacio?”
His eyes suddenly took on a gleam that she didn’t like. It was greed combined with something else. Something awful and disgusting… something she couldn’t quite place. “You don’t like his attentions, my dear?” he drawled, watching her carefully.
She felt her face flush and she avoided his eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re allowing him to do this to me. In a decade of marriage, you haven’t allowed another man to lay a hand on me except for punishment, but now, suddenly this man is allowed to do whatever he wants?” She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Why are you doing this, Ignacio? What do you hope to gain by handing me to this man on a silver platter?”
He snorted and slapped his hands on his desk, pushing himself back. He stood and slowly circled the desk, his eyes sweeping her tall, lithe form. “You’re a beautiful woman, figure it out. You belong to me, Casey. You always have and for as long as you live, you always will. You float around this house like a useless piece of nothing. I ask you for one little thing? Just to be nice to this guy, my business partner… and that’s a problem for you?”
She turned to look at him and lifted her chin, the tangle of her pale hair swaying with the movement. “Yes, it is a problem for me,” she said defiantly. “I don’t want to see him again.”
The strike came so quickly she didn’t have time to so much as flinch. He slapped her on the side of the face, then before she could collapse, grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed her forward into his desk. She cried out as her hip smacked hard into the wood and then she was forced to sprawl face down across his paperwork. She bit her lip to stop further shrieks from erupting, knowing the punishment would be worse if she made a fuss. She tasted blood where she bit down too hard.
He leaned across her back, crushing her further against the side of his unyielding desk, bruising her hip even more. His hot, horrible breath slid over her bare shoulder where her robe had slipped. Involuntary tears of pain glittered in eyes that stared straight ahead, frozen on his big, fancy leather chair.
Unlike years past when he’d struck her in anger, his voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke. Now he seemed intent on hurting her with dispassionate malevolence, simply to get his point across. “You will do as I say tell you, Casey. Or I have no more use for you. Got me?”
Casey nodded and blinked rapidly, tears spilling over her cheeks and dripping onto the papers on his desk. Absently she hoped they were ruining something important. Maybe whatever business deal he was trying to seal with the Bolivian. Ignacio pulled her abruptly to her feet and steadied her when her legs would have given way. She was the exact same height as him in bare feet, taller in heels, which of course annoyed him. Fleetingly it occurred to her that Reyes wouldn’t care about something stupid lik
e that. He was enough of a man to feel pride in the presence of a striking woman, whether she was taller than him or not.
Ignacio smoothed his hands down her arms, wrapped his thick fingers around the thin columns and drew her closer, his thumbs rubbing absently against her chilled skin. She stood stiffly, holding herself as far back as she could, making sure any expression of loathing was wiped clean from her face. Her ear was still ringing and her cheek was on fire from the vicious blow she’d taken.
“You will dress up, you will look beautiful and you will go to his room at the Plaza at 8:00 tonight. You’ll do whatever he wants to do with you and you won’t disappoint me, will you Casey, my girl?” he asked, his voice cajoling. They both knew he wasn’t asking her a real question, but stating a fact. He’d only given her a small taste of what he was really capable of. Why had she so stupidly forgotten how little power she had under Ignacio’s regime?
“Of course, Ignacio,” she murmured through stiff lips.
He led her to the door and opening it, handed her off to Alonzo, who was silently ignoring whatever Diego was saying to him. The two men had never gotten along.
“Make sure she’s presentable for tonight,” Ignacio said before turning his back on Casey and her bodyguard, dismissing them.
Chapter Nine
Casey stared at her reflection with a mixture of resigned despair and anger. No amount of makeup could disguise the mark high on her cheek or the swollen bite mark on her lip that were clearly visible through her careful efforts. Absently she wondered if it was part of Ignacio’s plan. To present his wife, damaged goods, to another man who clearly wanted her. Only she wasn’t sure what the other man ultimately wanted with her. A quick fuck? A way to mess with his business rival?
Ignacio had sent an entire outfit for her to wear, including a dress, heels and jewelry. As the day had progressed and she’d prepared for her meeting with Reyes she began to feel more and more like a pawn in some deadly game. She wore a beautiful white dress that clung lovingly to every curve. It was curved along her legs to give the illusion of length along one thigh, but if she moved wrong it would also give a tantalizing glimpse high on her other thigh. It was sleeveless with a neckline that plunged halfway to her stomach. She didn’t bother with a bra. She’d been blessed with decent cleavage, but hadn’t been eating well lately, which had shrunk some of her curves.
The dress fit her perfectly though and looked stunning when paired with the four-inch silver stilettos and diamonds Ignacio had sent from the safe room, a bracelet, teardrop pendant earrings and her wedding rings. She almost never wore her wedding set. Ignacio said they were too expensive to wear in public and, honestly, she was relieved. They were so big and gaudy, she hated the sight of them. But tonight, clearly, he intended to send the message that she was taken… even though she had orders to give Reyes anything he wanted. Which presumably included her body.
Casey sat on the edge of her bed, a hairbrush clutched tight in her hand. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. Not the thought of Reyes touching her. God, his touch melted everything inside her. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. No, it was the thought that her husband could so easily sell her to another man. And that she had no idea what the true intentions of that other man were. She was beginning to think she was in danger of really caring about Reyes, but he was mafia, just like her husband. No… he was worse than her husband. She could sense the lurking predator in him, getting ready to strike. She just wished she knew whose throat he intended to tear out. She lifted the brush and absently ran in through her hair, trying to hold the tears back so she wouldn’t ruin her make-up and piss Ignacio off. She would have pretended she had a headache if she thought it would get her out of seeing Reyes again, but she knew that wasn’t an option.
Less than an hour later she was standing in front of his hotel room door with Alonzo and another man, one of Reyes people at her back. She could feel the tension sizzling between the two men, but kept her head tilted down, her hair covering her cheeks when Reyes opened the door.
“Casey,” he greeted her, his deep voice caressing her name with warmth.
She wanted to look up, but kept her eyes on his waist. He wore dress pants with a leather belt and a nice shirt, tucked in. She wasn’t sure what colours he wore, but she thought maybe dark, either black or grey. His shoes were very nice and shined dully in the light of the hallway. She wanted to laugh bitterly. If Ignacio hadn’t marked up her face she would never have noticed the man’s shoes.
“Reyes,” she greeted him, infusing ice into her voice and quickly moving past him before he could question why she wasn’t looking at him.
He closed the door behind her and offered to take her wrap. She nodded and let it fall from her shoulders as he tugged, gently moving her hair aside so he wouldn’t catch the strands. She shivered from his soft touch at the back of her neck and rapidly stepped away from him toward the darkest part of the room, a table next to the window. She could stand in the shadows there.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, approaching her from behind.
She wanted to laugh out loud and point out that she didn’t have a choice, but she kept her mouth closed. It was always smarter to stay silent. When she opened her mouth she said too much, got herself in trouble. Instead she focused on the view outside the window, the incredible swath of lights that swept Miami’s coast before plunging toward the ocean.
“A drink?” he asked.
He was standing so close she felt his heat touch her bare shoulder. “Yes, please. Maybe something a little stronger than orange juice this time,” she murmured a hint of wryness in her voice, her eyes locked on the darkness of the water far below.
He chuckled and moved away from her for a moment, returning with a glass of white wine. She reached to take it, without turning to look at him. The coolness of the glass against her fingers told her he’d chilled the wine before she arrived. “Thank you.”
“You like the view, nena?” he asked when she still didn’t move to look at him.
She nodded and took a hasty sip of the wine. It was delicious. Smooth and sweet with a hint of tartness. “I love this part of Miami,” she told him. “Especially these high up condos, they’re so beautiful. Do you own this one?” She hazarded a quick glance around the penthouse suite before moving her eyes back to the window.
“No,” he said shortly, not bothering to continue that line of conversation. She wasn’t surprised. Reyes didn’t seem like a man that tolerated idle chat. He said what he wanted to say and moved on.
He reached past her, deliberately brushing her arm with his sleeve. She swore he inflicted those light touches on her as a form of torture. They seemed to do just as much to her senses as when he outright grabbed her. He opened the door leading to the expansive deck and flicked his wrist, indicating she should accompany him outside. She stepped over the threshold, her heels clicking softly against the tiles as she stepped toward the balcony railing, taking in the breathtaking view of the Miami coastline. She made sure to keep her back to him while they stood together.
He allowed the silence to reign for several long minutes as she sipped her drink and tried valiantly to steady her nerves. It didn’t help when he caged her against the railing, gripping the metal on either side of her body and bracing his arms so she was trapped between him and a long, long drop. She glanced down, the liquid in the glass shaking a little as she let that dark voice in the back of her mind run free for just a second. The one that whispered to her, every once in a while, that it would be easier to just let go. That if she succeeded this time Ignacio couldn’t punish her the way he promised after her last botched attempt.
She tore her eyes away from the beckoning darkness and focused on the strong fingers flexed against the railing. It didn’t matter. Reyes would grab her before she even completed the thought, let alone the action. Besides, she didn’t want him acquainted with that sad, dark part of her. He already had a pretty good idea of how messed up she was and he still seem
ed to want her. His next words proved it.
“Stay the night with me,” he said huskily, his accent caressing each syllable as he leaned into her back to speak into her ear from behind.
She nearly moaned out loud from the feel of him against her, his groin grazing her ass. Her thin dress made it so she felt every small touch from the fabric of his trousers and the graze of his belt buckle against her curve of her cheek. His broad shoulders brushed hers as he leaned in. The cool evening breeze gently lifted her hair and flipped it back across his bicep where it was braced next to her, caging her body in. From the corner of her eye she could see the barbaric beauty of her pale hair laying across the darkness of his shirtsleeve.
“No,” she sighed.
He made an impatient sound from behind her and eased closer, surrounding her with heat. Her long hair snaked back around them, enveloping them in a cocoon. His knuckles tightened against the railing. In anger or frustrated lust? Both, maybe. She was certain this man wasn’t used to denial.
“I want you to stay with me, cariña,” he growled in her ear, his voice throbbing with authoritative energy. “Leave Ignacio and come to me. Not just tonight, but permanently. I can do things for you, give you things you can’t even imagine. I can protect you. Set you up with more luxuries than you can even hope to experience here in this narrow world.”
Casey gasped and whirled in his arms, her hair whipping around them. She was careful to tilt her head away though, keeping half her face in the shadows still. He straightened and moved back a little to give her room. She stood to her full height, which, in her heels, brought her eye to eye with Reyes. It didn’t matter that he was much broader than her and outweighed her by at least eighty pounds, she glared at him, showing him exactly what she thought of his offer.
Scarred Queen (The Queens Book 1) Page 6