Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"Boss," Ricci says, expelling a breath. "She won't listen to us."
Of course she won't. Stubborn, brilliant woman.
"Amalia."
"R-R-Rafael?" She has her eyes squeezed tightly closed.
"Yeah, tesoro. It’s Rafe."
Is it my imagination or do her shoulders sag with relief?
"I messed up," she whispers. "I f-forgot I'm scared of heights."
Ah, tesoro.
"Listen to me, tigrotta. You're already halfway down. I just need you to climb a little lower, and then I'll catch you."
"You can't catch me!" she cries.
"Why not?"
"I'm not answering that in front of your men, Rafael Valentino," she huffs, switching from terrified kitten to bristling tiger again.
I frown, trying to work out why she doesn't want to answer me in front of my men, but come up with nothing. She let me touch her in front of them earlier. "I don't understand," I reluctantly say, chafing at the admission. Not knowing everything about her is intolerable.
"You can't catch me," she says, the words stiff.
"Amalia, climb down. I'll catch you," I promise, refusing to waste time arguing over this.
"No."
My men shift restlessly. No one tells me no. Ever.
What does it say about me that I like when this curvy little queen does it? My whole fucking life, people have been giving me exactly what I want, no questions asked. They jump to obey as if their lives depend on it. Not Amalia. She defies me as if it's her job. And goddamn, I can't get enough. Her bravado. That fierce defiance. The way she looks at me as if I'm the biggest disappointment she's ever met in her life. Even now, she has my dick so hard, I want to drag her to the ground and fuck her raw.
"Now, tesoro," I growl instead, the thought of any of these motherfuckers seeing her lost in pleasure sending a ripple of jealousy through me. It's not rational. There's nothing sane about it. But I'd destroy every fucking one of them.
"Fine!" Amalia cries as Mattia appears on the balcony overhead. "But if I hurt you, it's your own fault! And I probably won't even be sorry!"
Hurt me? How she thinks that's possible is beyond me.
"Mattia, Ricci, support the rope," I order, filing that comment away to deal with when she isn't in imminent danger.
Once Mattia and Ricci have the rope secured to keep it from swinging, thus reducing the risk of it shaking her loose, she slowly begins to lower herself. Despite wanting to spank her gorgeous ass for putting herself in danger like this, I'm impressed by her ingenuity. Using pants and belts instead of sheets allowed her to create hand and footholds. Her rope is probably the most expensive rope in the entire state, but it's impressive.
"Just a few more feet, tesoro," I say, watching like a hawk as she descends toward me.
"Don't tell me!" she cries. "I don't want to know."
The tremor in her voice is the only thing that keeps me from laughing. She's legitimately afraid, perhaps for the first time today. I can't help but think she's only trying to get away this hard because I kissed her earlier. No, I didn't kiss her. I consumed her.
I should feel like a fucking asshole for forcing her to sleep in my bed when the idea clearly distresses her so much she's willing to endure this to get away from me. I do feel like an asshole. Guilt lashes at me, but I tamp it down, ruthlessly quelling it. Putting her in my bed isn't about getting in her pants. As much as I want to fuck my kid into her, putting her in my room is about protection, plain and simple.
My fight is with Diego Butera. I brought her here to draw him out, not to harm her. That makes her mine to protect. This world killed my mom while I stood by helplessly and watched, unable to protect her. I won't allow it to claim Amalia's life. If anyone thinks to come for her, they'll have to go through me to get to her.
Her hand slips, throwing her off balance. She scrambles for the handhold but can't get to it in time. She plummets backward toward the ground with a sharp cry of terror that I know I'll hear in my nightmares.
A ripple of worry goes through my men, every one of them rocking forward on their heels as if to catch her before they remember my vow to kill anyone who touches her. It wasn't an empty threat, and they know it. My father may have bound me to this fucking empire, but I blackened my soul all on my own. My hands are stained with blood I spilled, so much of it I lost count long ago.
I step forward, opening my arms while my men silently deliberate whether an emergency changes my threat. It doesn't. No one touches her. No one. Call me what you will, but I've had my hands on her gorgeous body. I know what kind of magic she works. One kiss, and I'm already tripping down the path to obsession. I won't allow anyone else to get close enough to think about trying to take her from me.