Page 2 of Surrendered Hearts

Carly: I’m dying here. You know I have no life and live through you. Have you seen him?

Me: I’m looking at him. He’s checking into the hotel. But I haven’t spoken with him yet.

Carly: Is he still as good looking as when he was keeping you awake all night every night and ensuring the security of my job by messing all your thoughts up?

Me: Better looking than then. And this conversation is done now.

Carly: Is that my boss talking or my friend?

Me: Since I don’t have friends, it’s your boss.

Carly: Right. Gotcha. But keep me in the loop! I need to know how this ends.

We both know how this ends. With me married to a man I’m not sure I can handle or who can handle me. I’m a strong woman, stronger than most, but Javier was built to dominate, to reign over, to conquer. I’ve never been good at being conquered. It’s why I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months. Men don’t appear to like my style of refusing their bullshit.

And that includes Javier.

Hell, he only lasted six months before he walked out. I’m unsure of why he agreed to this marriage our parents desperately want. I know why I did, but I’d have thought Javier would find another way to achieve the goal our families have.

I eye him again as he juggles checking into the hotel and taking a phone call. Whoever is on the end of that call has pissed him off. I know this solely by the way his shoulders have turned to stone. When he finishes at the front desk and turns to walk to the elevator, I verify his mood by the hard set of his jaw and the angry lines creasing his face.

I know Javier’s moods well. Nineteen years of knowing a person will ensure that. Especially if you’ve shared the kinds of things Javier and I have.

I’ll never forget the first day I laid eyes on this man.

We were both fifteen, but Javier looked older. Acted older. And had the muscles of a man rather than a teenager. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

And those eyes of his.

Slate blue, they’re hypnotic against his tanned skin and dark hair, and have always ensured my complete attention when they’re on me.

Our families had worked together for decades and it was that day they united in a deeper way. As part of that, both families came together for a weekend at the Torres estate in Medellin where we lived in Colombia. Javier was almost as arrogant and self-assured at fifteen as he is now. And since I’ve always been drawn to men like him, I had no hope of escaping his charms. Not back then, and not throughout my adult life. We may have only dated for six months, but I wanted Javier when I was fifteen, fell in love with him at nineteen, and have never figured out how to stop loving him. Not even when he left me two years ago and cut all ties without a proper explanation.

A call comes in on my phone.

Bob.

I’m about to answer it when a text comes through.

Unknown number: 52ndfloor. Now.

I grip my phone a little harder as I stare at the message.

My heart beats faster.

My thoughts speed up.

My senses go into overdrive.

Me: I won’t be bossed around, Javier.

Javier: You will do as you are told, Emilia. Now.

Me: This didn’t work so well for you last time. I’m unsure why you think it will this time.

Javier: I don’t have time to waste on this today.

Me: Such a lovely way to talk to your fiancé.