Page 6 of Corrupted Deception

His grip on my neck loosened when I didn’t struggle and then his thighs were no longer pressing against mine. He probably thought he had me cowering like a child here.

Big mistake, asshole.

I shot my stiletto heel straight back. I’d been hoping to connect with his nuts, but the tapered heel slammed into his thigh, hard enough he stumbled back a step.

“Stronzo,” he spat.

I shot straight up and spun, but that’s when I finally got a look at my assailant.

He was nearly a head taller than me, and broad. Really freaking broad, like his suit-clad body-spent-hours-lifting-two-hundred-pound-weights-every-day kind of broad.Shit. I’d been hoping for more of a Steve Urkel kind of opponent—spindly and clumsy. An Urkel, I could take down. Definitely.

In a flash, my gaze swept up to a well-cut jaw. Full lips. Straight nose and defined cheekbones.

And then my swift perusal reached his eyes. Deep-set ice-blue eyes that slammed into me; that’s what it felt like. Like they’d knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

Cielo Luciano?

I hadn’t seen the man in ten years, and the universe decided thatnowwas a great time for a reunion?

As I was looking at him, he was looking back at me. Was it too much to hope he’d forgotten all about me?

“Charlotte?” he said like he was testing my name on his lips.

Of course, it was too much to hope he’d forgotten. And that was definitely not an I’m-so-happy-to-see-you look on his too-freaking-handsome face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“Would you believe I’m on a date?” I shrugged.

He looked pointedly at Marín who was still paralyzed on the bed, then back to me, one eyebrow cocked.

I don’t think he was buying it. At least the corners of his lips were twitching.

Amused was better than pissed off, right?

“Charlotte?” he pressed.

“It’s Char now,” I blurted out, because that was absolutely useful information here.

His eyebrows lifted. “‘Char’? As in ‘burnt to a crisp’?”

“Only if you piss me off,” I snapped.

He smiled.

My insides twisted.

Smiles were generally good things, but in Cielo Luciano’s case, not so much. Particularly not when that smile didn’t reach his eyes. Even as he grazed over my lingerie-clad body. His ice-blue eyes were anything but cold at the moment. I think they might have transformed into hot laser beams because everywhere he looked, my skin grew warmer. And warmer, until all of that heat seeped inward, pooling low in my abdomen.

Okay, time to regroup.

Subduing him wasn’t going to be easy. Kill shots were the only safe option here.

So… kill him?I put the thought out there, testing it, tasting it.

Are you crazy?my conscience railed. It really was a pesky thing.

So, I did what any self-respecting, conscience-driven woman dressed like a hooker would do: I feinted right, then bolted left, shooting out of the hotel room, past the big, bald guy in the hallway, down the stairs, and out through the front lobby in stiletto heels and lingerie.

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