“No,” I said, and this time, my answer was harder. He put my hands against his chest, right over his heart, and I pushed against him. “No. I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I’m getting married.”
Something made me turn, and I jumped after I did. Capo stood in the doorway, half of his body tilted toward the frame, watching us. How long had he been there? The entire time? I wouldn’t doubt it. Was he testing me? Like he’d tested those women at The Club? Would he walk out and then turn his back on me, too?
Harrison held me for a second longer before he let me go. My breath held when he stopped in front of Capo and held his stare. Capo stood like he had no issue, like he had all of the time in the world, but something about his eyes made my heart race. They seemed dangerous. Machiavellian.
“Harrison?” Keely said, coming to stand behind the two men. “Come on. Go outside and get some fresh air.”
Lachlan was right behind her, and he took Harrison by the shoulders, leading him outside, whispering things in his ear as they went.
Not wanting to cause any more trouble, I kissed Keely goodbye and we left.
As we met the last step of the house, I could hear the family in the backyard, still enjoying the party. Leaving like we did made me feel guilty, but I’d rather live with guilt than to live with something unforgivable happening between my soon-to-be husband and the only family I had left.
My concentration was on what had happened, so when Capo took me by the arms and brought me to the side of the house, pressing my back against it, I gasped. He wasn’t rough, but I knew he wasn’t messing around either.
“You love him,” he said. His eyes searched mine, digging brutally for the lie on the tip of my tongue, if there was one.
I shook my head, swallowing hard. I couldn’t tell if the ball in my throat was my heart or all of the food I’d eaten. I wasn’t afraid of him—he could’ve killed me years ago—but I was wary. Even though we had an arrangement, we still had to learn how to live with each other. The real him ran too deep, and until I could break the surface, we were left trying to figure out how to navigate our terms.
Before I could answer, he hit me with, “You knew that he was in love with you.” His tone was accusing and sharp.
“Yeah. I found out about it the night I met you at The Club.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Why should I?”
“It’s my business,” he said.
“No. It’s my business. It happened before you.”
He grinned, but it was fucking frightening. “Anything touches you, it touches me. You get fish instead of the steak you ordered, I know about it, understand?”
“I know the terms, Capo,” I said, my voice starting to rise. He was starting to piss me off. “Again. This. Happened. Before. You.”
“There is no before me. There is no after me. You. You’re all me.”
“You can’t get pissed about this. You have no right. He feels the way he feels. I feel the way I feel. The end.”
“How do you feel, Mariposa? You never replied to your friend when she told you. You never responded to Grumpy Indiana Jones in the kitchen. You never answered me.”
I narrowed my eyes. He had read the conversation on my phone when Keely had texted me at The Club. And he’d been listening tonight. No surprise there, but suddenly, I had the insane urge to scream, you don’t own me! But he did. And I owned him. That was how the deal worked. We both set our terms and vowed to honor them.
“If I loved him that way,” I said through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t be fucking marrying you! What do you take me for? If love was what I wanted, I wouldn’t be standing here with you! If love touched me, I’d never, ever sell it out. If love drove my life, I’d be its main chick. Ride or die, Capo. Would I sell my body to live? We both know the answer to that. Would I sell out love for the sake of this arrangement? Never! I’d die first! So, no, I do not love him in that way!”
My words seemed to stun him for a moment, though he recovered quickly. He didn’t want me to see that some part of my truth had touched him, but too bad. He wanted nothing but honesty from me, so he was going to get it. Even if it meant a dagger to his iron-clad heart. It might not nick him, but it would make a dent that would forever mark him. Mariposa was here.
“You belong to me, Strings,” he said, his voice cold, “and I won’t stand for any man to run behind you like you’re a dog in fucking heat.”
In what seemed like slow motion, my arm came up, and my hand connected with his cheek. The slap rang out in the night air. “You might be my capo,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to disrespect me.”
He didn’t even flinch at my slap, but something in his eyes changed. They softened some, but in a way that I wasn’t used to.
One, two, three, four breaths, and he took my wrists, raising them above my head, his face coming close to mine. His mouth was a kiss away, his breath warm as it flowed over me, and I breathed him in.
The bulb lights had been turned on in the backyard, and between us, a white spark flared in the darkness. My chest heaved up and down, my breasts pressed against his chest. The friction felt so good. I’d never been more starved for this kind of connection in my life. I had hungered for the unconditional love of parents, for food, for all of the things that money could buy, but never for this.
A lover’s touch.
He showed me something that I craved the mere idea of. I’d sampled it the night at The Club, and I was already addicted to the flavor.
I inhaled again, breathing him in even deeper. The heat made his scent stronger. Cool. Clean. Healing. His eyes had turned a darker shade of blue, the color of the deepest part of the water. Sapphire.
Pressing against me as he was, he never felt more intimidating. He was like a monster wave before it comes crashing down on someone who doesn’t know how to swim. He was made up of hard lines, and he radiated power, control, while he swept me away.
His teeth raked over his bottom lip, and in the glow of the lights from the yard, it glistened. I wanted to lick it, to taste his mouth again. “I seem to remember telling you that I’m not an honorable man, Mariposa.”
“And I seem to remember telling you that you will not speak to me that way,” I said, hoping he saw the defiance in my eyes. “If you’d rather a woman that goes for anything, a different kind of purchase, you know which way the city is. Thata way.” I moved my head to the side to give emphasis to my words. “And I’ll just see myself back to the party after you go.”
“So you can run back to Harry Boy and finish your earlier conversation.”
“No.” I shook my head. “So I can hang out with family and friends while I wait for you to do whatever it is you feel you have to do. Then, once you come back for me—because I know you will—we’ll see Rocco about changing the terms of the agreement. You’ll be discreet with your lovers, and so will I. If your mouth can’t respect me, then your hands have no place on my body.”
When I said the words “you’ll be discreet with your lovers, and so will I,” his grip on my wrists tightened, enough that I almost wanted to squirm out of his hold. I came close to giving in and resisting, pushing against him so I could turn my back on him and take a much-needed breath. But I didn’t. I held my ground.