“Ella es mía,” he growls.
Even a person who didn’t know Spanish could interpret the dangerous intent in his voice. I bite my lip to hold back the moan as his strong arms match that voice, holding onto me like a prized treasure he has no intention of sharing with the world.
The server backs away, grabbing the check as though he’s ready for this night to be done already.
Even though I’d happily die right now in Enrique’s arms, I steady myself enough so we can at least return to the hotel.
Outside, the night is still warm and glorious. The city isn’t even remotely dead, despite the late hour. I hear young people laughing and talking loudly in the distance. Somewhere a guitar plays. A man on the street even offers to sell us a can of beer for one euro as we pass by.
“Where is the beer?” I stupidly ask him with a tipsy laugh.
“You don’t want to know,” Enrique says, dragging me past him. When we’re far enough away, he leans down to whisper in my ear. “They keep them cool in the sewers. It’s not even legal to drink in public here.”
I wrinkle my nose with distaste, then laugh at the thought that the man probably does brisk business despite that. This city is so wild and wonderful, I want to drink it up.
We pass through narrow alleyways that make me think I’m in a different time period. An era in which young, virginal women just like me could be carried away by handsome men through these very streets where anything could happen. Maybe they had their innocence taken right here against these walls…maybe not so much against their will, despite the prevailing religious ethos of the day.
My legs give out from beneath me and, if not for Enrique’s arm around my waist, I’d faceplant against these brick streets.
“Whoa, I think we should call it a night for you,” he says as he easily picks me up to carry in his arms.
As if I needed any more fuel added to the fire burning inside of me.
My arms go around his neck, and I stare at his face through the wine goggles my eyes have turned into. The passing lanterns that light our way highlight the sharp features of his jawline, brow, and nose.
“You’re so good looking,” I mutter.
Amusement touches those features and brings a sparkle to his eye. “You’re not so bad yourself, Leira.”
“No, seriously,” I say, bringing one hand up to trace his straight nose, right down to that slight indentation in the tip. He’s the purest sin, walking and talking temptation of the worst kind. And I’m a mere human with free will to be corrupted. “If you wanted to…tonight? I would allow it, Enrique.”
All traces of amusement in his face evaporate in a flash as he stares down at me, but his voice is soft when he replies. “No.”
The disappointment seeps in, but I’m not sure if it’s the rejection or the unfulfilled yearning in my body. My mind is too unfocused to make a distinction. Instead, I lean in, resting my head in that warm spot between his jaw and his shoulder.
As my eyes lower, leading me into that hazy period just before sleep, I hear his final words.
“Not tonight, Leira. But you will be mine.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight Enrique
I’m the first to wake the next morning.
Lying in bed, I enjoy the calm after the turmoil that overtook my body last night. Leira’s words still taunt my senses, causing a stir in my groin. It doesn’t help that I’m already suffering a morning erection; I certainly don’t need any more blood rushing from my brain.
I draw the covers away from me and quietly slide out of bed to relieve myself. Leira is still asleep, and I glimpse the sliver of warm skin that’s revealed as her bare back faces me. When she wakes, I’m sure there will be a fiery storm aimed at me when she realizes I undressed her down to nothing but her underwear before putting her to bed. Never mind the fact that we both slept under the covers together, me once again in nothing but my briefs.
Then again, based on what happened last night, maybe her Catholic virtue is fading.
I adjust myself, trying to temper my body’s reaction to that as I head to the toilet closet. When I come out, she’s still sound asleep. I decide to use the time to take a quick shower before she wakes.
The room is too dark to figure out the shower, so I open one of the shutters blocking the window. It lets in just enough light to see what I’m doing without disturbing Leira.
I chose this hotel because, once upon a time, a one-night stand vacationing in the city invited me back for the night, and I liked the vibe of the place at the time.
Now, I remember why.
It’s an odd set-up. The shower has a one-eighty degree glass barrier surrounding it, and seems to be deliberately positioned in front of the windows. The only thing shielding a view of me from the bed is a curtain of strings similar to that which hangs outside the front door of the room.
When the water is warm enough, I step in. I stand under the spray of water, letting it douse my head and the impure thoughts dancing around within. A smile curls my lips as I remember carrying Leira into the hotel. The poor woman at the front desk nearly had a panic attack until I explained that it was nothing more than too much wine.
With the momentary alone time, I decide I might as well get rid of the erection, which has yet to ease away on its own, the old-fashioned way. With Leira, there are so many mental images to choose from,
