Illicit Proposition by Piper Stone

Chapter 6

Devon

His possession.

Santiago.

A man I still couldn’t stand.

Yet he truly thought he’d be able to drag me to such an incredible location in another country and tame me like some wild animal.

The bastard had another think coming. I already regretted signing on the dotted line. How could I have been so stupid. Money wasn’t everything. My honor meant so much more. If he thought he was going to be able to break me, he had no understanding of the kind of woman I was.

There would be no surrender of any kind.

As far as the job I was supposed to perform, who the hell did he think I was? I didn’t have those kinds of skills. There was no way we would be successful in stealing the crest.

Maybe that’s not what he cared about. Maybe I was a sacrificial lamb in order for him to have the opportunity to act on his revenge. Jesus. No wonder he didn’t have any issue agreeing to my renegotiated price.

I wasn’t going to survive the heist.

I could put two and two together. His father had been murdered by a rival mafia family. He was here to take back what was stolen from his family, the crest just the beginning.

A cold chill shifted down my spine. How the hell could I get out of this mess? I leaned against the wall, fighting to control my breathing. The man wasn’t just dangerous.

He was a killer.

The wineglass suddenly felt heavy in my hand, the liquid sloshing from the fact I was shaking. Santiago continued to unnerve me, which few men ever had. He was also still intoxicatingly gorgeous, dragging my senses to the surface from the electricity we shared alone. I’d enjoying challenging him at every possible chance, although I knew he was losing his patience.

As if I cared.

At least I knew he had to keep me alive to perform like a seal. Maybe that would give me enough time to figure out some kind of plan.

I took a sip of wine, staring up the winding staircase. I’d have to make my peace with staying here somehow.

As I walked up the massive set of stairs, there wasn’t a part of me not shaking.

Breathe. This is just dinner and nothing more.

Maybe. I wasn’t certain of anything any longer. One day at a time. That was all I could do.

I’d never seen such an incredible house or grounds, the view alone something the majority of people never had the opportunity to see. Yet here I was, in the lair of a dragon, the man perched and ready to consume every inch of me including my soul.

I marveled at the works of art hanging in the hallway, the collection bold and beautiful in its depth, every one of them depicting an ocean setting. I brushed the tips of my fingers across one, the limited light in the hallway still managing to capture the nuances of every colorful building. It brought back memories of trips made with my parents outside of Madrid in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Exhaling, I pulled away from the painting, hating the bittersweetness of the images floating into my mind. My mother had loved living in a foreign city, constantly finding new places to explore and dragging me along whenever my time spent in school would allow.

And I hadn’t cared about spending time with her, at least not after I’d turned thirteen. I’d been far too interested in the Spanish boys to be able to enjoy sharing an experience with my mother. What I wouldn’t give to turn back time. As with almost every other aspect of my life, I had regrets.

Including developing a relationship with one very bad boy when we’d returned to the States. His aura of power had entranced me, his lust for life pushing my limits. He’d been the first boy I’d ever kissed, the first I’d allowed to touch me in an intimate manner.

Then he’d demanded I share in his life of crime. Why I’d agreed remained beyond my comprehension, much like dying my hair to a horrid shade of fuchsia. My rebellion had almost cost someone their life. If my father hadn’t intervened, using all his power and influence to keep me out of prison, I had no doubt my life would be in further shambles.

I’d done everything in my power to shove aside my past, my juvenile record sealed and impossible to trace. Yet Daniel Darke had sliced through the red tape, able to locate all my dirty little secrets in an effort to make his client happy.

Now I would be forced to risk my freedom once again.

For a man I couldn’t stand.

Yet desired.

The irony was almost too much to take.

Every door I passed reminded me of stunning entrances to a castle, the thick wooden slats and ornate hardware straight out of another century. The double door at the end of the hallway indicated a grandiose room. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the suite, including a four-poster canopy bed fit for a king, a gorgeous velvet comforter in royal purple covering the sheets.

This was getting ridiculous.

The sitting area off to the side was surrounded by a bay window, the view of the ocean even more spectacular than peering over the iron posts of the lookout or the thick stone of the entrance. There was a balcony off to the side as well as some of the most ornate carved furniture I’d only seen in glossy magazines.

The two bags I’d brought with me seemed shabby in comparison to the ones Santiago had used and for about a million reasons, that pissed me off. I grabbed the handle of one, tossing it out the door, smiling as it tumbled against the wall. I repeated the action, taking absolute satisfaction in pretending to shove him out of my private space.

Only it wasn’t mine on any level.

I closed then locked the door, huffing my satisfaction. One way or the other, the bastard was going to leave me alone.

When I walked into the bathroom, I was stunned at the size, the room larger than a good portion of my apartment. Marble in sparkling black covered the walls, the soaking tub big enough for four. Even the shower had four separate heads as well as a television on one of the walls. At least I’d know what living the life of luxury was like for a short period of time.

I resisted a giggle, trying my best to yank back my girlie reaction as I touched almost every surface in the room. A long soaking bath would be a small gift I gave to myself.

After enduring sharing dinner with the man.

He was insufferable, demanding as well as maintaining the arrogance I was starting to grow accustomed to. I couldn’t help but notice my reflection, the jeans I’d worn threadbare, the shirt one I’d purchased at the local thrift store. The clothing I’d brought with me was certainly not up to par for Santiago’s standards. I actually smiled at the thought.

I reluctantly returned to the other room, staring at another set of double doors. The closet. I could only imagine the kind of clothing he’d purchased for me. When I opened and peered inside, the light automatically turning on, I wasn’t certain whether to be ecstatic or pissed off. Whoever had done the shopping certainly had style. However, everything was formal in design, including several long dresses. I dared to walk inside, shifting through one dress after another.

Santiago had authorized a small fortune in order to dress me well. As I picked through the things, I realized they all had a recurring theme.

Sultry and provocative.

Whatever the hell he was planning, I was beginning to want no part of.

I shifted to the dresser, yanking open drawer after drawer. My God. He’d even had one of his house staff purchase lingerie. I was sick inside, fighting the urge to rip them to shreds. I closed the last drawer, taking a deep breath then heading for my suitcases, tossing both on the bed. To hell with him if he thought I was going to dress up like some freaking Barbie doll. That wasn’t my style and I refused to succumb to his sick wishes.

I tore through my clothes, finally finding exactly what I wanted—a pair of black jeans I’d owned for years and my favorite sweatshirt. This would be perfect for dinner.

After changing, I hung out in front of the bathroom mirror, taking my time to refresh my makeup while I finished my wine. There. I looked perfectly presentable for whatever dinner had been planned.

As I walked down the stairs, I was pleasantly surprised to hear music, the same type that was playing in the gallery, only the Spanish guitarist was performing a much more dramatic piece. Dark and dangerous.

Just like the man who’d bought me.

I gripped the railing when I stood on the landing, hating the nervousness that continued to build. I wasn’t used to being controlled in every manner, forced to perform like a seal. As I tried to plaster a smile on my face, I heard a flurry of activity, voices chattering in Spanish coming from all directions. How could I get used to having a large staff in the house?

After taking and holding a deep breath, I moved into the interior of the house, moving from one room to another. In my effort to find him, I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful rooms. Even more surprising was the fact that the formal entrance and great room gave way to a more comfortable interior. While the furniture remained plush, the ambiance straight out of a rich and famous magazine, the pieces were more inviting. There were even fresh flowers and entertainment systems, the majority of rooms also having the most picturesque view of the outdoors.

“May I help you, dear?” Frances’ voice was just as pleasant as before, the Spanish accent making every syllable sound romantic.

“I was looking for Santiago.”

She didn’t offer a look of disdain, or any admonishment for what I was wearing. Her smile was just as delightful as the woman herself. “I believe you’ll find him on the veranda. He requested dinner to be served where you’d be allowed to have a view of the ocean.”

I almost laughed at her belief he could care about my interests. “Um, which way?”

Her laugh reminded me more of a kitten’s purr. “I’ll be happy to show you the way. I’m surprised the master of the house didn’t give you a grand tour. I can have that arranged for you whenever you’d like.”

“I would enjoy that. Maybe tomorrow.” As we walked slowly, I realized I had so many questions I wanted to ask. The best way of knowing how to deal with Santiago was finding out what he was made of. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, dear.”

“You knew Santiago’s mother?”

“Oh, yes. Lucia was truly a wonderful, loving woman. She was also a shark when it came to working with contractors. I have no idea how she managed to renovate the grand manor in three short years. She worked tirelessly night and day.”

“Was she close with Santiago?”

When she hesitated, I had a feeling the subject was off limits. “She was… very busy. Unfortunately, that left Santiago to get into, how do you say it in English? Mischief? Manuel was older, normally away at school, which also didn’t help.”

I chuckled, able to see images of what she was talking about. “I can only imagine.”

“Yes, he was a handful, so much like his father, God rest his soul.” The way she said the words was with such sadness that I could tell Frances had been close to the entire family. “Anyway, I did my best to try and keep him in line, but that was tough. At least he’s turned into a wonderful young man.”

I didn’t want to burst her bubble in any way. “Yes, he’s very unusual.”

She stopped just outside a set of French doors, placing her hand on my arm. “That’s why you’re in love with him, dear. He’s just through there.”

Before I had a chance to disagree with her, she’d started walking away. There was no chance my eyes showed anything but contempt in them. As I opened the doors, they were immediately drawn to the gorgeous view. The veranda was open on three sides with stone walls and arched columns, the corners lined with tropical flowering plants. A wafting of the ocean permeated the air in the light breeze. The expansive space had two distinct seating areas, one with an incredible stone fireplace, the other more intimate. There was a large dining style table located at one end and candles lit everywhere. The music was even more pronounced, the sound adding to one of the most romantic settings I’d ever experienced.

What a shame this wasn’t about romance or passion.

I didn’t see him at first. When I did, I was taken aback. He’d changed into dark trousers and a white shirt, the lighter material flowing in the breeze. He was leaning against one of the columns, staring out at the ocean, a drink in one hand.

As I walked closer, I gazed down at the lovely table setting, the red tablecloth providing another slight shiver. Maybe this was how dinner was supposed to be. I wouldn’t know, my usual setting in front of the television, trying to find solace in a drama of some kind in order to get my mind off my crazy life.

There was a bottle of wine already open on the table, a small bar in the corner, complete with a bottle of champagne in a wine bucket. I felt even more uncomfortable in my skin.

When he turned, his eyes managed to shimmer in the dim lighting along with the full moon rising over the ocean. I could tell the second frustration and fury slithered into his system, the look on his face hardening.

“This is very nice,” I stated, my words stilted.

“You were going to change for dinner.”

“I did.”

“Not acceptable.”

As he always managed to do, he brought a round of anger from the depths of my being. “Why? Is there some Spanish rule book requiring formal attire? Oh, wait. I know there’s not since I lived in a very formal setting in Madrid for years. I wear what I like.”

He exhaled in an exaggerated manner before taking a sip of his drink. Then he turned to face me, walking very slowly in my direction. When he stood only a few inches away, the scent of his cologne washed over me like a soft blanket, rushing into every pore. I was instantly lightheaded, the exotic fragrance staining my skin.

After gazing down to the same shoes I’d worn on the plane once again, he glanced out at the ocean. “I can see I didn’t make myself clear enough to you, Devon. While you’re in my house, you will follow my rules. One of those rules is that whether we are in this location or attending a function outside of the house, you will dress accordingly for dinner. Once you learn what that means, you will have free reign to choose whatever you’d like to wear. Until then, that selection will be made for you since you obviously have limited tastes.”

Appalled, I backed away, shaking my head. “How dare you! I will not be told what to wear like some child.”

When he gave me a stern look but with a twinkle in his eyes, I realized I’d had just about enough. I reacted, or perhaps overreacted, lifting my arm to smack him across his chiseled face.

Santiago was far too quick, snapping his hand around my forearm, digging his fingers into my skin. He inched even closer, managing to slide his drink onto the table then cupping my face. His grip was just as firm, twisting my head until I was forced to look into his eyes. “You are in desperate need of discipline, little girl. I refuse to take your antics any longer. I can see I have a need to remind you on a regular basis that you belong to me.”

There was something even darker about the way he issued the words, a harshness that seemed escalated. He lowered his head, and I was certain the man was going to kiss me. The feel of his hot breath blowing across my skin created a round of goosebumps. I couldn’t stop shaking, uncertain of what he was going to do.

“To that end, you need harsh punishment.”

“Leave me alone. You will never spank me again like some bad little girl.” I managed to shove both hands against his chest, but even using all the strength I could muster, I didn’t break his hold.

However, I pissed him off even more.

He released his hands, but in two seconds flat, he ripped the front of my shirt completely.

“What are you doing?” I screeched, pummeling my fists against him.

“You have two choices tonight, Devon. One. You can remove your clothes all the way down to your underwear and you will remain that way through dinner. Two. I will remove them myself, every single piece. Then I will free my belt. If that is the case, you will receive a very harsh punishment followed by standing in the corner for a full half hour while I enjoy dinner. Then I’m going to take you inside where I will wash your mouth out with soap. The choice is entirely up to you.”

I clenched my jaw, stars floating in front of my eyes as I tried to yank the shirt over my breasts. I’d been stupid enough not to wear a bra and the slight breeze forced my nipples to full attention. I was sick inside, mortified that I was actually aroused by this beast of a man. How could that happen?

“You are a horrible monster.”

“Yes, Devon. I am. I think it’s time you realized that. I can also be a forgiving man who enjoys providing the finer things in life. That choice is entirely up to you. I suggest you make it wisely.” He returned to his original spot against the column, acting as if nothing had just happened.

I took a step back, my mouth completely dry, trying to rationalize the moment as well as my stupid decision. However, there was no going back.

“You have ten seconds, Devon. Then I’ll make the choice for you. I truly don’t think you’ll like having all control stripped away. Do you?”

With a single turn of his head, a blazing look of lust in his eyes, I was thrown into another realm, a surreal world that I hadn’t seen coming. I turned away, gasping for air in some attempt to calm my nerves. That made me even angrier inside, hating myself as well as the horrible man.

But I was smart enough to know I had no other choice.

“Five seconds.”

I yanked the shirt off, tossing it aside in anger. Then I kicked off my shoes, trying to keep from shaking. That was impossible. I was sick inside, darting glances toward the door. At any moment, one or more of the staff would appear through the door with items for dinner. This was all about humiliating me in some crazy effort to force me to comply. I hated him. I loathed myself.

One day, I would kill the man with my bare hands.

So. Help. Me. God.

As I fumbled with the button and zipper on my jeans, I tried to concentrate on the music and nothing else. While the lilting strings were comforting, nothing could drag me out of the horror I was about to experience. I simply had to resign myself to the fact my life as I knew it had been stripped away from me.

For now.

However, Santiago Romero or De Leon had no idea how formidable and clever I could be. I hadn’t worked with criminals for almost a year not to pick up a few things. At least the thought provided some armor. When I yanked down my jeans, I almost fell over from trembling so badly. I wasn’t going to allow this man to see any fear. When I was down to my lace panties, I laughed softly, grateful that I’d selected purple for a change.

Another wafting of breeze forced me to shiver, yet my increasing anger kept me warm. I issued a sight hiss before turning around, trying my best to hold my head high. The fucker hadn’t changed positions. He seemed relaxed, doing nothing more than enjoying the time spent on the veranda. Comfortable.

Dominating.

Possessive.

However, he managed to hear my footsteps as I approached.

“Pour yourself a glass of wine.” His words weren’t a suggestion. They were a command.

I’d never been so embarrassed in my life, every muscle tense as I tried to walk forward. When I was finally near the table, I glared at the empty glass and bottle of wine, doing everything I could to maintain some level of humility. I did what I was told, although I wasn’t entirely certain I could stomach the liquid.

“Come join me. The twilight is my favorite time.”

I hated how much his deep baritone affected me, the way he said the words creating a series of vibrations. I clenched my fingers around the glass, hating the fact my legs were stiff as I walked closer to the wall. I purposely stayed away from him, my teeth chattering from the continued nervousness exploding in my system.

At least a full two minutes passed.

“We don’t have to be adversaries, Devon. I have no intent of hurting you or allowing anything to happen to you. However, the mission I’ve spent years preparing is very important to me. I refuse to let anything stand in my way.”

“Then don’t make me your enemy. I was hired without being given full knowledge of whatever the hell it is you’re doing. Perhaps if you tell me, I won’t have a tendency to fight you.” I took a sip of wine, closing my eyes to avoid looking at him.

Although a huge part of me wanted to gaze onto his magnificent physique. Even in his darkness, he had a way of drawing me in. Tonight was no different.

“While that’s a reasonable expectation, correct timing is imperative.”

I laughed, wanting nothing more than to toss the liquid in his face. “At some point you will need to talk to me, Santiago.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

With that, I could tell that he’d shut down. There would be no further discussion of business, no hints of the person he was prepared to destroy. Hissing, I took another sip, heat flushing my face immediately as I heard the sound of footsteps. I couldn’t stand to turn around, more embarrassed than I’d ever been in my life. If the members of the staff were bothered by my lack of clothing, I wouldn’t know it. They were quiet and efficient in providing whatever service they were performing.

“Dinner is served, sir. Will there be anything else?”

Santiago shifted in their direction, but not before taking a longing glance down the length of me. The man’s face was much more expressive than any who’d shown interest before, which were few and far between. I tried to turn and keep my attention on the beautiful scenery surrounding the castle-like home, but I couldn’t help but dart several glances in his direction.

There was so much current sparking between us that I found it almost impossible to breathe. My nipples ached, remaining hard as tiny pebbles as my desire continued to build. There was nothing worse than the fact my panties were already damp, the quivers in my pussy keeping me on edge.

“This is perfect. Just make certain we aren’t disturbed,” Santiago stated in his usual authoritative manner.

“Yes, sir.”

I could tell they were backing away, the sound of the French doors clicking shut forcing a slight moan from my throat. Goddamn, I hated this man.

He seemed to purposely wait before walking closer. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell he was studying me all over again. Maybe he’d thought I was going to react differently to his wretched demand. Hell, no, he wasn’t going to break me.

“I suggest we try and enjoy dinner. I’m certain you are hungry.” He didn’t wait for my response, heading toward the table. I could tell when he’d yanked one of the chairs from its position, sitting down, even making a satisfied guttural noise. A man on his throne. Another disgusting moment.

There was nothing else I could do but obey him again, trying to keep my composure as I walked to the table. The glorious food presented in silver trays was both mouthwatering as well as adding to the discomfort. This was a meal prepared for royalty, not a typical Thursday evening dinner.

However, I was hungry, my stomach churning from not eating a single piece of food in almost two days. How could I eat? As I sat down, I realized he was staring at me, those dark eyes of his drilling into me, adding another layer of apprehension.

And excitement.

“I wasn’t certain what you liked, so I had the chef prepare several dishes,” he stated before yanking his napkin into his lap.

I shifted forward in the seat, fighting the chill as I reached for the thick folded linen. Pretending I was comfortable was taking almost every ounce of energy. “How very chivalrous of you.”

He laughed, the sound booming into the night air. “There is very little about me that’s chivalrous, Devon, although I appreciate you thinking otherwise.”

“No, I know you’re nothing but a killer.”

My words didn’t daunt him as he selected several shrimp, putting them on his plate. He was elegant in doing so, taking his damn sweet time in finding the perfect ones.

I did what I could to concentrate on placing several items on my plate, including fresh fruit and cheese. At least for a few minutes, I could pretend I wasn’t sitting almost naked in a gorgeous setting across from such a brutal man who thought he was my master. Everything I tasted was fresh and delicious, my taste buds as ignited as the rumble of hunger for the man himself. As I nibbled on a shrimp, I continued to fight my nerves.

And anger.

The audacity of the man to force me to try to enjoy dinner in this state of undress was abominable, but as I’d already realized, he couldn’t care less. It was his way, period.

His rules.

His demands.

Shuddering, I thought about what Frances had told me, her obvious love for the man misbegotten in my mind. “I heard you were a bad boy when you were younger.” The words seemed to slip from my mouth.

I heard nothing but the slight scraping sound made by his knife at first. The man was going to refuse to answer me. Whatever.

“I was forced to find entertainment on my own. Very little has changed, although I’m in a much better position to hunt and take what I want.”

Just the way he was looking at me was a reminder that he was a true predator. I was just his latest conquest. I couldn’t help but glare at him, watching as he forked bite after bite of food. He seemed entranced at first, taking his time as he chewed each bite, his dazzling green eyes piercing into me.

“Eat. I assure you that you will need your strength.”

I hated every word dripping from his mouth, his accent fueling my desire. At this point, I didn’t have the energy to fight him, managing to consume a few additional morsels of food. After a few minutes of utter silence, I couldn’t take it any longer, pushing my plate away. “I’m going up to my room.” Without asking permission, I rose to my feet, still hearing the clattering of his silverware as I grabbed my things, making it to the door.

“This is your last warning, Devon. I assure you that there won’t be another. While in my employ, you will follow my lead as well as my rules. You will not continue to fight me on any level or there will be consequences, just like there have been tonight. I am not a patient man, nor do I give a shit about protocol or niceties. I can’t afford the time or the distractions. You can either surrender as required, or the punishment will fit your infractions.”

There was no anger in his tone. There was also no remorse, just a man providing a statement of where he stood. I’d pushed his last button and he’d pushed mine. As I stood with my hand on the doorknob, I closed my eyes. I had every reason to break the contract, fleeing back home, but the majority of me wasn’t prepared to do that.

And I had no idea why.

There was no mistaking the noise as he shoved his plate away, the more aggressive act making me cringe.

“I can see you finally accept what is required of you. Given that understanding, you need to come here.”

I realized my grip on the handle was even tighter, my body swaying. I couldn’t speak, could barely think of any rebuttal.

“I said. Come here. Now. If you want to know why, I will tell you. You are my possession, a prize meant to be feasted on. And that is exactly what I plan on doing.”