Page 50 of Falling for the Enemy

Without speaking further, he crosses the deck, his long strides eating up the distance quickly, and ascends the same stairs he just descended, leaving a struggling Benito behind.

As we move, I don’t kick or scream.

With my hands bound and lacking a weapon that would even the battlefield between us, fighting him will be fruitless.

Saving my energy is a must.

No matter how enraged I remain, playing this smart is vital. Instead of continuously lashing out and challenging a man I have no chance of beating physically, staying patient until the opportunity to strike arises is the only option.

The moment better arrive quickly.

I need to return to Mina.

If she wakes up in the morning and I’m still absent—

Silencing my thoughts, a necessity in order to concentrate, I take in my new surroundings as Alejandro sets me down atop a second table, this one constructed of marble.

My belly flips when he takes the seat in front of my dangling legs, the satin of my flowing gown and the cotton of his dress shirt the only things separating our flesh.

Warmth sears my skin.

He’s too close. Far too close.

“Tell me,” I say, needing to distract myself from the way my body reacts to his, especially after learning of the way his lips taste. “What is it you plan to do with me?”

He grins, the sight maddening.

“First, I plan to feed you.” Cupping the back of my knees, he yanks me forward, bringing my butt all the way to the table’s polished edge. “Then I’m going to bathe you. And if you behave, it’ll be my cock that fucks you to sleep.”

I narrow my eyes. “And if I say no?”

His chin rises. “To which part?”

“All of it.”

“You will eat.” His sharp tone dares me to argue. “And you will allow me to wash your skin, cleansing it of my lieutenant’s touch.” My lower belly heats, his possessiveness an unexpected turn-on. “As for whether you allow me to give you what we both know you crave, the decision is yours.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “My decision?”

His warm palms land on my thighs. The red satin that fills them when he fists each mimics the invisible blood that stains his hands. “I’m many things, none of them good. But one thing I’ll never be is a rapist.”

His reply is a blow to my defenses.

Before long, I fear they’ll fail entirely.

The outcome is one I can’t allow. Not only because he’s my enemy, but also because he’s the head of the Colombian cartel. Both merciless and calculating, he’s the male version of myself. Trusting him isn’t an option. His words, as endearing as they sometimes are, can’t mean anything.

I won’t allow them to.

Not when they carry such a high risk of being dipped in deception and painted with manipulation, each carefully crafted syllable designed to lower my defenses, allowing him to steal what will ensure my downfall, destroying me completely.

The only question is, what’s he after?

My kingdom? Or my cold, black heart?

In the end, I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Not when falling for my enemy will allow him easy access to the latter, a move that will lead to the thing I fear most.

My ruin.

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