Page 55 of Falling for the Enemy

Evening gown in ruins, I pick up his dress shirt from the floor and slip it on. Concealing my body from his livid gaze, I close the only three buttons that remain affixed to the fabric, the others scattered around the room.

When he doesn’t answer, I shrug my shoulders and retrieve my tattered panties, the red silk soft against my sweat-slicked palm.

“It’s a pity, really,” I continue, unperturbed by his silence. “Because if you had, you’d know a queen’s power always trumps that of a king.” Malevolence bleeds from my smile as I press a knee to the mattress and shove my ruined panties into his unsuspecting mouth. “Checkmate, Alejandro.”

The headboard bangs as he jerks on it, the wall it’s attached to sounding as though it will soon rip apart. Knowing what will happen if he frees himself or if his men hear such a commotion, I decide that what remains of my revenge will have to wait.

Death—me—will come for him soon.

For now, though, a retreat is in order.

I cross the room and pick up the knife he tossed toward the walk-in closet after cutting my bindings, a move I’m sure he regrets mightily now. “Thanks for the orgasm, Krasavchik.” Handsome. “Sorry I couldn’t return the favor. Maybe another time, da?”

I blow him a taunting kiss.

And with my chin held high, I leave.

FOURTEEN

Ari

Smoke and sex.

I smell of both as the heat of the blaze I set minutes ago, mere moments before jumping ship, leaving a bound Alejandro behind on his yacht, continues to warm my flesh.

Despite the cool wind produced by the jet ski I currently drive, its hull gliding over the current of the Ashley River like a hot knife through butter, perspiration beads along my overheated skin.

The jet ski is one I stole from the kingpin.

A necessary step in the escape I just made.

To my surprise, fleeing the cartel’s clutches had been easy. With Alejandrogagged via soaked silk and bound to his wrought iron bed, slipping past his inept soldiers, then down onto the dark lower deck undetected proved simple.

Untying the watercraft from the floating T-shaped dock that was attached to the yacht, however, didn’t. Especially when attempting to complete such a task in both stilettos and silence. Luckily for me, setting fire to the only remaining jet ski after I freed the first wasn’t a complicated endeavor.

A can of gasoline and a book of matches.

The accelerants, which I found lying haphazardly near the yacht’s stern, were key in quickly torching the watercraft, rendering it to a charred, smoking mess.

The best part? Nowhere to be seen was the speed boat that initially transported us from the harbor to where the yacht was docked, leaving the cartel no way of pursuing me without them lifting the anchor and packing up its inflatable dock.

A time-consuming step I’m sure they took.

Afterthey freed their jefe, that is.

But it matters little either way.

The head start I’ve gained is too vast, and with the lights of my mansion now flickering in the darkness, acting as a beacon for my lost soul, catching me is impossible.

My only regret is missing the red-hot rage that surely crossed Alejandro’s handsome face once he regained his freedom and discovered the flaming mess I left behind.

A mess that, despite my undeniable fury and resentment toward him, I surprisingly hope didn’t spread, sinking the Lürssen to the bottom of the Atlantic, taking him with it.

The thought nearly makes me sick.

Closing in on the waterfront property I own, I unexpectedly spot Casper on the riverside dock. The sight of him aids in pushing my conflicting emotions concerning the kingpin to the back of my mind.

Precisely where they need to remain.

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