Page 6

But I never wanted it to end.

When he was finished, he traced a line down my neck with his lips, the light scratch of his beard creating a wave of gentle yet insistent quivers. He pulled me away from the wall and I allowed my head to lean back as he rubbed his groin back and forth. He wanted me to realize how hard he was for me.

At that moment, I couldn’t care less who was watching or why I was there in the first place. If he wanted to drag me into the bathroom and have his way with me, I wouldn’t stop him.

He cupped my face, pulling back enough to gaze into my eyes as he rubbed his thumb across my cheek.

“Enjoy your evening. Perhaps we’ll meet again.” His words were husky and dark, a promise made and one I prayed he’d fulfill.

“Perhaps we will.” I remained where I was, giving him a thoughtful nod as he walked away. His aura was ripe with danger and sensuality, the man wearing power in his casual attire and formidable swagger.

When he walked out the back door, I finally took a deep breath.

“Wow.” Laughing, I touched my lips, which were still tingling from his roughness. What in God’s name had just happened?

At this point, I needed a few minutes to myself. I headed into the restaurant and toward the bar.

“¿Qué puedo conseguir para la bella dama?” the bartender asker.

What can I get for the beautiful lady?

His question was followed by a flirtatious smile.

“Blood-red wine.” I purposely used English, which often disarmed my would-be suitors.

“As the lady wishes.” He tapped the bar, giving me a onceover before turning around to fill my order.

I took a deep breath, brushing my fingers across my lips. The kiss would remain a highlight of the evening.

Within two minutes the wine was brought. At least the bartender didn’t bother trying to make any headway again. I leaned against the bar, enjoying the few minutes alone as I thought about the job I’d accepted. There would be a huge adjustment, something that would take getting used to, but I couldn’t disappoint my father. He’d done so much for me in my life.

The music was nice, the crowd lively, and the next few minutes were peaceful.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

The gunfire was explosive, screams almost instantly following the horrible sounds. I dropped to my knees as I’d been trained to do and within seconds, all hell broke loose. There was additional gunfire, loud shouts, and people running to safety.

Several bolted out the door, almost running me over in the process. I tried to fight my way through the crowd, almost knocked down twice.

“Genevieve!” Emiliano’s voice boomed over the shrieks. When he captured my location, he pushed and shoved his way through the people, not caring if he hurt them in the process. When he finally reached me, he wrapped his arms around me, shielding me from everything and everyone else. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Bella. Where’s Bella?”

“She’s safe.”

I gasped for air, ripping at his jacket in my attempt to struggle free from his hold. “Let me go!”

“No, Genevieve. We need to leave.”

“Not without my father.”

“No, Genevieve. Listen to me. We need to get you to safety,” Emiliano hissed.

Several of our hitmen were running.

More gunfire.

More shouts.