Page 10 of Surrendered Hearts
“Don’t call me that,” she says, and I hear the hate and hurt in every syllable. It’s a knife to my chest in a way I never imagined it could be.
I stalk to the door with her, steeling myself to deal with her continued fight. Bruno schools his features when I yank the door open, his face not registering the fact he cops an eyeful of Emilia’s ass. I do my best to ignore the possessiveness that floods me at the sight of his eyes on that ass, and fucking fail.
“Pack her shit up and bring it to my suite,” I bark as I stride past him to the elevator.
“Put me down!” Emilia demands, and I do, once we’re safely in the elevator. Her eyes come straight to mine, filled with more anger than I think she knows what to do with. “If you’re trying to make me regret my decision to marry you, you’re succeeding.”
“The only thing I’m trying to do is keep you safe.”
“Javier, I grew up a member of the Sanchez family where our safety wasn’t granted for a single day of our life. The same as you. This isn’t anything new to me. It’s why we have security everywhere. It’s why I took self-defense lessons when I was younger. Why, suddenly, are you worried about my safety somuch that you feel it your right to kidnap me, half-naked, from my room and drag me to yours?”
I cup her face, roughly, and rub my thumb over her lips. “As the man who will be your husband, I have every right to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You should expect nothing less going forward. And you would do well not to challenge me every time I take the necessary actions.”
She stares at me like she’s never seen me before. Confusion fills those beautiful eyes of hers. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting tonight. You need to start trusting me.”
Her lips flatten and she shoots me one last glare before exiting the elevator onto my floor.
I try like fuck not to glue my eyes to her ass, but it’s a useless goal. I’ve never been able to remove my eyes from Emilia’s body, and I sure as hell know I’m not about to now.
This woman commands every ounce of my attention when she’s near, and fuck it, I’m more than willing to give it.
5
EMILIA
Islip into the pink cami set I’m wearing to bed and wish I’d brought an oversize T-shirt instead. This set is too sexy with its plunge neckline and lace to wear while Javier is near. My original plan of keeping him on his toes with clothes designed to do that is out the damn window after our earlier attempt at dinner. I never expected him to finger-fuck me the way he did, and I don’t want to encourage that again. Not when I know I’m one step away from submitting to any demand he makes on my body.
Exiting the bathroom into the main bedroom of his suite, I come to a stop when I find him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room watching me intently. He trails his gaze down my body, unnerving me, before lifting his half-drunk glass of whiskey to his lips and drinking some.
I don’t know what to make of Javier after tonight.
On one hand, he ordered me around like he does everyone in his organization and mentioned putting a bullet through my skull. On the other, he called me sweetness and threw me over his shoulder to bring me to safety. He also informed me he won’t be taking a mistress once we’re married. It’s all verycontradictory and I need some space from him to sort through my thoughts. Space he doesn’t seem intent on giving me.
“Why are you in here?” I ask.
“This is my suite in case you’ve forgotten.” His voice has turned hard again after losing some of that harshness when he used his favorite term of endearment on me.
“Yes, but I presumed that when you brought my suitcase into this room, you were allocating it to me.”
He throws more whiskey down his throat before standing. “You should never presume anything, Emilia. This isourroom.”
I stare at him, eyes a little wider than a second ago, heart in my throat. “This is not our room. And if you think it is, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Javier might think I’ll be sleeping with him after our wedding, but he’s wrong. I won’t be. And I definitely won’t be sharing a bed with him tonight.
He comes to me, and while I want to put distance between us again, I don’t move. I push my shoulders back, hold my head high, and keep my eyes on his. I’ll be damned if I’ll show him how he affects me.
Taking over my space, he growls, “You aren’t sleeping on the sofa. You’ll sleep next to me, so I know you’re safe.”
How he manages to sway my breaths into speeding up and my legs into feeling weak, I will never know, but he does. “You’re being ridiculous. You have how many security guards at the door, inside and out? I’m hardly unsafe in any room of this penthouse.”
Finishing his glass of whiskey, he stabs a finger at the bed behind me. “You’re sleeping in that bed and I’m not hearing another word about it.”
With that, he turns and stalks out of the room, leaving me staring after him, a bewildered mess.
Holy. Hell.
I don’t recall Javier being this bossy two years ago. He was certainly arrogant with a take-charge attitude, but this is next level. I can’t decide if I hate it as much as I’m telling myself I do.