Page 29 of His Deadly Lies

He pushes me one, right in the center of my chest, and I drop back against the side of the car, staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

His lips are twisted down in displeasure. “I suggest you go back inside then, Mia, before I throw you over my shoulder and take you myself.”

“Take me yourself,” I repeat. Interesting. He’s bold. I’ll give him that. A double entendre, and he’s not even ten minutes into the job. I smirk and say, “My, my. Mr. Bodyguard. Awfully forward of you.”

He’s got me caged between his arms and the vehicle, and it’s not fear surging through my system at the darkness in his voice. The nearness of his body.

“Keep pushing me, Princess, and see what happens,” he continues. “I’m not opposed to tying you down to keep you safe. For your own good. I’d do it too. Bind that pretty skin of yours with rope and watch how you react.”

My heart leaps up into my throat when he bends down and trails the tip of his nose along my cheekbone.

“Stop.”

I whisper the word, and there’s no heat in it.

Just another man who wants to lock me away. Foolish of him, I think, but even those thoughts disintegrate at the sensation of his breath on me. The way warm gusts of air from between those lips push at the fine hairs curling around my ear. Do I fight him? Do I buck and kick and go for the soft area between his legs?

Maybe I should.

Because I definitely should not be thinking about how he’d feel with his cock hard and buried between my legs. Hot and fast. Hard and wild.

“Behave,” he admonishes.

“Or else what?”

He trails his tongue across my cheek before nipping the area closest to my chin. “Fuck around and find out.”

I elbow him in the side for some breathing room and smooth my hair back when he gives it to me. Much too close to coming undone for my peace of mind.

“Don’t tempt me.” Breathy, aching, and a little wet, nipples pebbled, I turn toward the door to the house and away from Carter.

Exactly where I was headed in the first place, and knowing full well he’ll follow me.

His low growl, barely audible, is an unexpected delight. Carter isn’t the door-slamming kind, unlike me, even if he does take liberties with his words and his hands. Lips too. I’ve got to add those to the list.

I’m worked up to the point where it’s a quicksilver change in direction, of mood, and I head away from the kitchen where I’d been heading and straight for Papa’s office. He uses the guesthouse for business when the other syndicates are involved. His office in the main house is personal.

I remember sneaking in there when I was little and watching him work. He’d break to tell me stories of what he and his men did together, all of them disguised as knights of the realm. Saving people rather than up to no good.

Papa and Ricardo will be there, drinking to celebrate both of their good fortunes. I’m not even a part of the equation anymore. I’m just the bargaining chip. Once the deal has been struck…

I stop dead in my tracks, and Carter slams into me, too surprised to stop himself in time.

“What’s the matter, Princess?”

I shake off his concern, chest heaving.

By the time I reach the office, the door opens, and Edward and Ricardo are walking out. Ricardo is the first to notice me, and he smiles, a slow lifting of his perfect lips. He’s got the swarthy dark handsomeness of a typical Italian lover. All wavy black hair and chocolate brown eyes.

Incredibly attractive. Young, though.

For the briefest span of time, he looks at me like he’d rather not come near me. Which is fucking odd, considering how his guard can’t seem to stay away. I cross my arms to stop myself from going down that path or, heaven forbid, turning around to meet the gaze of the man with eyes bright enough to see everything.

Will Ricardo make saving myself worth it? I half wonder before I jerk back to the present. He’s certainly got the looks, but that doesn’t necessitate talent when it comes to pleasure.

Carter would.

I freeze. Absolutely not!

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