Page 87 of Sinful Honor

I laid my hand over his and squeezed. Silently thanked him and told him I was there, not gone into a bad place.

“Does Fausto know Sophie’s here?” his mother asked.

Gabe shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t think.”

His brother put his glass down on the table. “So, you think the breaking and entering—”

“Was an assassination attempt aimed at me, not related to her.”

“Assassination attempt? Breaking and entering?” His mother’s voice sounded shrill to my ears, but Gabe still held my eyes captive.

“Cristo will explain,” Gabe said, pushed back his chair, moved his hand to my arm, and made me stand up. “The two of us, my dear Sophie, need to have a little conversation.” His eyes glittered with a promise of what was to come, anger mixed with dominant power, with a hint of pissed-off. But there was more.

Barely contained lust that made me shiver and stoked my own desire.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

Ihad every intention of taking her right up against the door the moment we reached the room, to kiss her or tear into her—for not trusting me enough to tell me her name—I wasn’t entirely sure why.

Instead, my phone dinged as soon as we stepped inside.

Peaches’ mail arrived—and doused my raging mixed feelings.

I wanted her, and I would take her—just not quite yet.

Work was more important.

Her safety was more important.

I locked the door and led her to the bed but didn’t push her down. Instead, I went to my backpack, grabbed my cuffs, and stuffed them into my pocket without showing them to her.

She remained silent when I approached again, her eyes wide, her lips rosy-red and puffy.

I wanted to kiss her again, needed to kiss her again.

Just not yet.

I laid my hand on her chest, then pushed her slowly back. When she sat on the bed, I lifted her legs, turned her, and pushed her back until she lay flat under me.

Her breathing turned into panting.

Was she afraid?

She should be.

She could’ve broken bones if she fell down with that stupid makeshift rope of hers.

Could’ve broken what belonged to me.

I leaned forward until I could take a whiff of her uniquely enticing scent. “Since you’re not appreciative of my heroic acts,” I murmured into her ear, nipping her earlobe, “you leave me no choice.”

I let my fingers glide down the soft skin on both her arms. Then I circled her wrists with my hands and slowly brought them up over her head.

I took them both in one grip, and before she realized what I was doing, I had her cuffed to the headboard—thank God the frame was made of metal, not some kind of plushy upholstery.

She froze, stopped breathing entirely, and stared at me.

“Take a deep breath.”

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