Page 21 of Stolen By the Enemy

Once I’ve washed off, I figure it’s time to put some clothing on, because walking around naked is a whole lot less glamorous than it sounds, but I stick to a bra and shorts.

It’s so hot here that if I put anything more on, I might just melt.

I know that there is air-conditioning on in the house, but sometimes the outside heat seems to intrude into the cool air anyway.

Plus, with these clothes on, I’m a little more covered but can still flaunt my body at Marco.

Who knows if this game is working, but I can’t think of anything better to do anyway.

I’m walking out of the bathroom and dabbing my wet hair with a towel when I spot Marco standing in the hallway.

His face looks odd; not angry, but not as calm as he has been either.

I didn’t hear him come in the door, and I wonder how long he’s been in the house.

This is why the women in thriller movies are always killed in the shower, because you just can’t hear anyone coming into the house with your head under the stream of water.

“Oh, hi,” I say casually.

My voice cracks slightly with nervousness, but I take a breath to calm myself. I wonder if he’s here because my plan has worked, and he finally can’t contain his desire any longer.

Not only would that help my ego right now, it might mean I’m one step closer to getting out of this house.

“Get in the bedroom,” he growls at me.

This man is constantly trying to tell me what to do, like he thinks he owns me. I roll my eyes.

I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. My Nonna used to say that it was because I was born to tell people what to do, and I often tap into that energy when I don’t feel like being a “good girl”.

“Why don’t yo…” I start to respond to him, but before I can get a full sentence out, he walks toward me and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder.

I yelp in surprise as he carries me toward the bedroom and throws me onto the bed.

I’ve never found it hot when the movies show the man picking the girl up and tossing her around, but I can definitely feel a tingle between my legs now that Marco is doing it to me.

Swallowing hard, I look up at him and realize again how large and muscular he is.

There’s a part of me still wondering if I’ve finally pushed him over the edge and he’s here to finish what I started. An even larger part of me, though, wonders if something went wrong with my brothers, and he’s here to kill me.

His face is telling me that it’s the first option, but I’ve never had a cartel man standing over me ready to kill me, so I don’t really know what that looks like.

He stares down at me, his eyes dark and his expression hard to read.

I can feel my heart beating, and my breath is caught in my throat.

There’s a mix of terror and excitement boiling together in the pit of my stomach.

“You call this putting clothes on?” he asks, his voice is so husky right now, he sounds like a different person.

I can’t get words out of my mouth, so I nod up at him, maintaining eye contact.

“Too bad. I’m going to have to rip them off you now.”

Chapter Seven

Marco

Grazia’s stares up at me from the bed with her big brown eyes and her mouth slightly open.

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