“It will never come to that, I swear,” I said and led her to the living room, where she immediately went to the piano.
“You never know,” she taunted, letting her fingers run over a few keys.
“Oh, I know.”
She turned to me and looked me over from head to toe.
“Really, you’re so beautiful right now.”
“Thanks.”
“He can’t take his eyes off you either,” she said, nodding behind me.
I turned to see Raphael’s dark gaze on me even as he headed toward his study. The men who’d approached as he’d sent me away followed him, and I didn’t miss the way they scrutinized me and knew Raphael didn’t either.
It was another half hour before Raphael’s door opened again. Lina sat playing the piano with a group collected around her to listen. I watched the men leave, their faces tight. Raphael followed close behind, and I didn’t miss how he held his hands fisted at his sides. I watched them walk out the front door, noticed the quiet murmur of whispers and sideway glances and wondered who they were. I would have asked Damon, but Raphael came to me then, taking me by the arm and giving me an elaborate smile and bow that called the attention of every man and woman in the place.
“Time for me to take my bride to bed,” he said to the delight of all present. All but me. When he met my gaze, though, I saw the shadow in his eyes. This casual attitude, it was a front. Something had happened with those men.
I let him lead me toward the stairs. I glanced back and saw Lina and Damon watching, concern in her eyes, a warning in his, a warning to his brother. One I knew Raphael would not heed.
Up we went, Raphael and I. Up past my bedroom, disappearing down the hall to the last room, the one with large double doors which he opened then stood back and gestured for me to enter.
Our gazes locked, and although I knew I had no choice, that neither of us did, I knew stepping into his bedroom would change everything for us. I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. What I didn’t want. It was too much to make sense of. Too much to take in.
And so when he called my name, drawing me back to the present, I took that step, and he followed. The door closed behind us, and the lock clicked, slipping into place, and I turned to him to begin our dance.
Chapter Fourteen
Raphael
Was it possible to hear a heart beating?
Sofia’s pounded at a frantic pace. She stood just inside my bedroom. Her gaze slid from mine, and I watched her take it in, seeing it anew from her eyes. It was the biggest bedroom of those not damaged by fire. The one I’d grown up in was all but destroyed. The furnishings here were few and brand-new: dark carpet, dark curtains to match, a king-size bed against the far wall, and a table holding a lamp on the side I slept, a chair and table in one corner on which I tossed my jacket. That was all.
She turned her gaze back to mine.
I loosened the tie at my neck and pulled it over my head, hanging it over the back of the chair, then undid the cuffs of my sleeves one by one. I set them on the table before rolling each sleeve up. All the while, Sofia and I watched each other.
“Who were those men?” she asked.
Her question took me back. I turned away from her and took the lid off the bottle of whiskey on the small table, pouring us each a tumbler. She only hesitated for an instant before taking the glass I offered her.
“Business associates of my father’s.”
“Not friends or family?”
“No.”
“Why were they here, then?”
“Did they upset you?”
“No. Just…I didn’t like how they looked at me. And they felt… I don’t know. They weren’t invited guests, were they?”
“No.” No sense in lying.
She took it in.
“You’re safe, Sofia.”
“Am I?”
I didn’t reply but touched my glass to hers and drank. She did the same. Once our glasses were empty, I took hers and set them both down. “Get undressed.”
“Oh, that’s right. Down to business.”
I smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her to me. “I’ll make it good for you.”
Her hands pressed against my chest. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me? To know my grandfather—”
“Forget the old man. Forget everything. You want this. And so do I.”
My hands worked the topmost buttons of the back of her dress. She drew back. “Stop.”
“Don’t make me take it from you, Sofia.”
“Would you?”
“I don’t want to.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’ll make you come. I promise.”
“You think this is about an orgasm?”
“If only it were that easy,” I said, releasing her, stepping away to run a hand through my hair, thinking. Thinking. I faced her. “This thing, Sofia…this amendment…Your grandfather is testing my weakness. He’s testing to see if you have become my weakness.”
“What do you mean?”
“He used Lina. He said he wouldn’t allow her to be here with you to see what I’d do. See if I’d give in to this demand, or tell him to go fuck himself. If I told him to fuck himself, then he’d know I didn’t give a shit about you.”
She bowed her head, her hand coming to her throat. “I need to sit down for a minute.”
She perched on the edge of the bed, not moving for a long time, probably trying to make sense of what I’d just told her. She began to undo the pins holding her hair together and set them on the nightstand. I counted twenty-seven by the time she was done and her hair fell in waves over her shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me that the other night?” she asked.
“Because I was pissed I’d been played. I was pissed at finding you and my brother—”
“That was nothing like what you thought.”
“I know. I know now.”
“Is there more?”
Now wasn’t the time for the “more.” “Forget him. He’s not why we’re here, understand? Not anymore.”
She didn’t reply but watched me thoughtfully.
“Come here, Sofia.”
She rose to her feet and crossed the room.
“Turn around.”
She did, obedient. She knew this had to happen as much as I did. I didn’t want to take it from her. I didn’t want her to make me take it.
I stepped to her, and she kept her back to me. Touching her as lightly as I could, I lifted the mass of hair over her shoulder. She still trembled, though, at that lightest brush of skin on skin. I looked at her neck, delicate and so fucking fragile. It made me realize how vulnerable she was. How easily she could be hurt.
My mind traveled to the men who’d come, the ones she’d asked about. Moriarty and his goons. I hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at her. In marrying her, she could become my vulnerability. Or my strength, depending. If she were viewed as a debt owed to me, it would show my ruthlessness. If she were viewed as someone I felt for, a woman I possibly cared about, then she was a weakness.
Was this to be my next war?
I would not be weak.
I could not.
Not if I wanted to survive. Not if I wanted us both to survive.
My eyes were drawn to the exposed skin at her back, each vertebra making up her spine, the perfect skin stretched over bone and muscle. She gasped, stiffening when I moved to undo the pearl buttons one by one, enjoying the painstaking process, wanting to make this moment last. Once I had unbuttoned down to the middle of her back, she moved her hands to keep the dress to her chest. I pulled it apart a little and looked at her, swallowing when, as if of their own accord, my hands reached to touch trembling flesh, tracing the lines of her shoulders, shoulder blades, spine.
She turned her head so she could see me from the corner of her eye. Even in profile, with her upturned nose, high cheekbones, and full lips, she was perfection.
“Wisdom,” I said absently, slowly unbuttoning the rest of the buttons, lower and lower until I could see the top of her lace panties.
“What?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Your name. Sofia. It means wisdom.”
We locked gazes, and I pushed the dress off her shoulders. She hesitated but dropped her arms and let it slide to the floor, let it pool around her ankles. She wore no bra and now stood with her hands covering her breasts. My gaze slid down her back to her lace-clad ass. My cock twitched, but it wasn’t just a fuck I wanted. It was so much more. A claiming. A taking. An owning. But even that wasn’t enough, not if it was only her body.
I wanted more.
I wanted everything.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, tracing the curve of her spine, liking how her body reacted, how she tightened, aware of my every fleeting touch. I leaned my head closer and kissed her shoulder, at the soft bend at her neck. She made a sound, and I turned her around and took her face in my hands.
“Sofia. Innocent and wise and so fucking beautiful.” I kissed her mouth, wanting to taste her, taste her sweetness before the fire, before the intensity, before the pure need would overtake me. I kissed her softly. She opened, and I slipped one hand to the base of her skull, cradling her head. Her hands rose to my chest. I took one wrist and dragged it down to my cock. When she gasped and tried to pull away, I tightened my hold on it and broke our kiss so I could watch her face.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came.
“I want you so fucking badly, you have no idea.”
“Raphael—” She tried again to pull away. “Not this way. Not because of some contract.”
“Fuck the contract. I don’t care about the contract. It doesn’t make any difference. I want to make you mine, Sofia. That’s all. Mine.”
She moaned as I took her face in both hands and kissed her again, then pulled back but held her close.
“Take off my shirt.”
Cautious, unsure, her curious eyes met mine then blinked and shifted to the buttons on the shirt. She gave me a slight nod, and her fingers trembled when they touched the first button, undoing it, fumbling as they slid to the next, her touch making my cock harder.
I wanted to have a bath to calm her, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d last with her this close. The thought alone of her naked, sitting in the bath cradled between my legs, was difficult enough.
She moved slowly, the trembling of her fingers making the task harder, but soon, she was pulling the shirt out of my pants and, once all the buttons were undone, she pushed it apart, her eyes following her hands as she stroked my chest and pushed the shirt off my shoulders. She looked up at me, her hands curled over my biceps.
Her smile vanished when I faced her again and this time, grabbed hold of either side of her waist and dragged her backward toward the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she sat. I spread her legs and knelt between them, my gaze moving from her face, over the small mounds of her breasts, down to the lace panties, the hair, and the slit of her pussy visible through it. With one hand, I dragged the crotch of her panties aside, exposing her pussy to me. She gasped, but I took hold of one leg and drew her forward so she sat on the very edge of the bed.
I brought my mouth to her clit and licked, then sucked. Sofia’s legs spread a little wider, then closed around either side of my head. “You want it as much as I do. Forget about everything. Nothing matters but this."
I pushed them wide again and pulled away, sliding her panties off and discarding them, so she sat naked. I then stood and while she watched, stripped off the rest of my clothes.
“You’re going to come with my cock inside you tonight, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. I liked it. It fit her.
Pushing her backward, I climbed between her legs and kissed her mouth again, liking the feel of her against me, her nakedness pressing against my own. My cock ached to be inside her, but I held back, wanting to taste every inch of her first, her lips, her cheek, the pulse pounding at her neck, her collarbone, the space between her breasts, her taut nipples, the flat of her belly, the hair at her pussy, her thighs.
Sofia was panting by the time I drew up on my knees and pushed her legs apart, taking one and bending it up beside her, exposing her wholly to me.
“I want to fuck you hard, Sofia.”
She shrank away a little, fear and desire warring in her eyes.
Watching that, watching her face, I brought my cock to her wet entrance and pressed the head into her.
Her hands came to my chest, but she didn’t push. I did, though, stretching her slowly, inch by inch, watching her eyes as I did, holding on as her tight pussy squeezed my cock until I hit her barrier.
“Raphael,” she started, panic edging her voice.
“Sofia,” I groaned, wanting so badly to thrust, knowing how it would hurt her if I did.
I drew back, letting go of her leg, setting her thighs on top of mine so I could still see her face.
“Eyes open. On me,” I said.
She shook her head, but her nails dug into my shoulders as she braced herself. I pumped in and out slowly, not yet breaking her barrier, sliding two fingers over her clit and rubbing.
“Open your eyes,” I reminded when she bit her lip and closed them. “Look at me.”
At the next thrust, I pushed deep, feeling the resistance, feeling it give, hearing her little cry as warmth engulfed my cock. I closed my eyes for a moment, that feeling of owning her so complete yet so fleeting, I wanted to hold on to it. When I opened them, I found her watching me. I began to work her clit again, turning pain to pleasure as I thrust deeper, harder, drawing all the way out then in again, watching her face. I lay my weight on top of her and closed my mouth over hers.
“Fuck, Sofia.” I grunted as she closed her eyes and made a sound, the same one she’d made the night under the stars. Her cunt squeezed around my cock, and I watched her face, saw it tighten, then soften, her eyes slowly blinking open, her fingernails breaking my skin.
Seeing her come pushed me over the edge, and with one final thrust, I stilled inside her. I watched her watch me as I emptied, blood and cum from her and me mixing, smearing together, taking everything from me until finally, I collapsed on top of her, holding her, my cock sliding out of her, soiling the perfectly smooth skin of her thigh and reddening my sheets.
I woke at my usual time, three o’clock in the morning, and lay listening to Sofia sleep, her naked body pressed against mine. I opened my hand wide on her belly, holding as much of her as I could.
Last night had been good. Better than I expected. The physical attraction between us was mutual, but there was more than that. I wanted to hold on to it, to that thing, whatever it was. I knew it was important.
And impermanent.
Because I couldn’t have that, and the reason I’d done this in the first place. It was one or the other.
The old man’s test only strengthened my resolve.
I couldn’t forget why I was doing this. Why she was here.
I wouldn’t.
Rolling over onto my back, I stared up at the sliver of moonlight that slipped between the split in the curtains and streaked the ceiling. Sofia made a sound, and for a moment I thought I’d woken her, but then she curled up against me, the top of her head burrowing into me, her body hugging into itself, little fists and knees close. Unmoving, I watched her until she stilled and then wrapped my arm around her again, holding her to me. I wondered if she would consciously do this, nuzzle against me, if she were awake.
Thing was, I thought she might.
Maybe that’s what made this so hard.
Marcus Guardia had used Sofia’s love for Lina to test me. To test my weakness. He’d probably been planning it all along. The bastard had read me like a fucking book, and I’d fallen right into his trap.
If for a single moment I thought he might feel some modicum of emotion for his granddaughter, the ease with which he’d sacrificed he
r body obliterated that notion. We were all pawns in his twisted game.
But I’d turned it around. Managed to use it to my advantage with Sofia.
I guess I too was a master manipulator.
Telling her about consummating the way I had had been cruel. But giving her the gift of her sister at the wedding, it had turned her back around. Probably confused the fuck out of her, but hell, this whole thing confused the fuck out of me.
Sick fucking bastard, her grandfather. I wondered if he thought I wouldn’t go through with it if she refused. Maybe that was his reason for asking it. Maybe he thought she’d cry rape. Put me in fucking prison again. Or maybe he truly just didn’t give a shit about her.
Last night happening the way it had, though, it changed everything. She’d given herself to me. I hadn’t had to look in the mirror this morning to find a monster more terrible than Marcus Guardia staring back.
But there was more. More that didn’t concern Sofia, not yet anyway. I’d hold on to it, use it when I needed to.
Marcus Guardia wanted five percent back. Lina could come and spend a few days with her sister if I agreed to forfeit five percent, receiving only forty-five percent of shares, not fifty. This way, he ensured they kept control of Guardia Winery.
He wasn’t a fool. He suspected I’d drive the company into the ground as soon as I could, as soon as I had the ability to. And I still would. I’d just do it differently than I imagined. He’d still pay. Hell, this way, he’d lose it all, not just half.
And I’d lose Sofia once it all came to pass.
But there was more to consider than Marcus Guardia. My meeting with Moriarty hadn’t gone well. I hadn’t realized how deep in debt my father had been. And Moriarty wasn’t about to forgive that debt just because my father was dead. He still had every intention of collecting.
I couldn’t give him what he wanted, though, because what he wanted was my mother’s legacy. This house. The land. All of it. He’d even pay me for it, at least the portion my father didn’t owe him.
Moriarty was a business developer. Well, that was the legitimate front. He had a way of getting what he wanted and didn’t have any problem using whatever means he needed to. When Damon had told me to call the police and let them handle it, he didn’t realize Moriarty had the police on his payroll. I’d have to deal with him, and I couldn’t have Sofia be a part of that.
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