Page 59 of Falling for the Enemy

Manzana claims she kneels for no man, no matter how tempting such an offer may be. But once again, she’s wrong. Soon enough, the cunning Queen of the Fallen Kings will willingly hit her knees.

And she’ll do it forme.

For binding my hands to the headboard, the wrought iron now reduced to ruins after I snapped it in half to free myself, and for leaving my side, the place where she belongs, she will soon plead for forgiveness.

My sadistic grin grows at the thought.

Ready or not, Hermosa, I’m coming for you.

SIXTEEN

Alejandro

I intercept Carmen at the shelter’s gate.

Wide-eyed and shocked at my unexpected appearance, she nearly drops the lemonade-filled tumbler she holds when her surprised gaze first meets mine.

“Alejandro...” Coming to a stumbling stop, she shoves her sunglasses to the top of her head. “What are you doing—”

“I’m here to see you, princesa.”

The smile I wear is as rare as it is genuine.

In spite of the turmoil roiling in my chest, along with the endless questions weighing on my mind like a ton of bricks, the sight of her eases the mix of anger and impatience that gnaws at my insides.

“I don’t have long, but if you have a few minutes—”

“I have as many as you need.” Her eagerness to spend time with me is both impossible to miss, and something I don’t take for granted. “I always will.”

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me, the smell of her rose-scented shampoo tickling the tip of my nose. Similar in fragrance to the perfume Mamá always wore, it resurrects memories I wish to remain dead and buried.

My fucked-up heart twists.

Needing to keep my head straight and mind rooted in the present, I push away thoughts of the past, locking each painful remembrance away.

Temporarily, at least.

Carmen pulls free of my hold and steps back, her assessing stare raising to lock with mine once more. “Spill it, Hermanito. Something is bothering you.” She taps her chest. “I can feel it here.” Her ability to read me like a book is just as strong now as it was when we were kids.

Back before our worlds were torn apart.

“So start talking.” Her head tilts, the small move reminding me of Manzana. “Unless you wish for me to call Grandmama, that is.” Waggling her eyebrows, she grins. “I’m sure she’d be happy to come interrogate you.”

I shake my head at the mention of the loca old woman. “No, gracias. I prefer for my ass to remain untouched and bruise-free.”

She drops her head back and laughs, the sight of her happiness working to alleviate the darkness brought on by the events of the past week, its vice-like hold continuously wrenching my chest tight.

The sun has risen six times since Ari fled my yacht, finding refuge in the walls of her mansion. Since then, I’ve spent every possible moment observing her from the highway bridge that gives me an unobstructed view of her bedroom.

Each night, the enchantress senses my presence, and just like the first time I watched her from afar, she taunts me from behind the glass, the red silk robe she always wears hanging half-open, teasing me with repeated glimpses of her mouth-watering flesh.

Her insolence won’t be overlooked.

“I need you to tell me about someone.” Forcing away the enticing thoughts fogging my mind, I get down to business with Carmen, refusing to waste the few precious moments I’m able to spend in her comforting presence mentally immersed in plans of retaliation. “Her name’s Arianna Ivanova.”

A swift intake of breath, followed by the tensing of her shoulders. I study my sister’s every reaction to my request, searching for signs of anxiety or fear, no matter how small.

Manzana claims she helped my sister.

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