“His father.”

  “Yep,” I said in a strangled voice, popping the P. “Malcolm Worthington of the Worthingtons of Miami Beach and beyond. A family who has more money than God. They also have the attitude to match it. You know the type. Their shit doesn’t stink.”

  As I’d experienced the night before, he was allowing me to talk, encouraging me to do so with his silence.

  I slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing my hand across the comforter. When had my beautiful little boy slept in his bed the last time? When was the last time I’d read him a story? Or had heard his little giggle, the sweet sound always putting a smile on my face?

  “Anyway, Malcolm has temporary custody. I’m expecting another notification of a final court date any day. I’m supposed to have visitation once a month. However, Malcolm in his infinite wisdom and the fact his attorney is from the best firm in all of Miami has determined I’m not fit to spend even two days with my own son.”

  Breaking down in front of this man wasn’t my intention and it sickened me even more than I’d been before. The sobs racked my chest, the ache presenting itself like a sharp knife cutting through my insides.

  The goddamn silence was worse than the tears. I snuffled and lifted my head, staring Kruz in the eyes. He was such a cold fish one minute, a wild beast of passion and anger the next that I couldn’t figure him out.

  The only real indication he was troubled by what I’d told him was the way his chest was heaving. What did that matter? He certainly couldn’t do anything to help me.

  “In case you’re wondering, I spent all the savings I had on an attorney to try and fight Malcolm, but it was no use. So, if you don’t mind, please just get out. Leave me alone for a little while. This is all I have left of the best thing that’s ever happened in my life.” I grabbed Maverick’s favorite teddy bear that Malcolm had refused to take and cinched my eyes shut, rocking the stuffed animal as if I was holding my little boy.

  When the tears stopped and I finally opened my eyes, Kruz was gone.

  CHAPTER 7

  Christine

  Shopping with a killer.

  Maybe I was overblowing Kruz’s credentials as I’d yet to see him kill anyone. However, I sensed the man was itching to do so.

  There had to be some irony in there as well as everything else that had occurred in twenty hours.

  Nothing seemed to fit, or maybe my mind was unable to process I’d chauffeured a truly bad man to some of my favorite Miami stores.

  None of which had suited him.

  Kruz had remained mostly silent, adopting the brooding bad guy persona during the ride. Meanwhile, I’d chattered away about the city, pointing out my favorite bistros and bars. Not that I’d been to many of them. Saving money prevented me from spending frivolously. I’d done so out of nervousness. One reason was that the weapon he carried, while hidden under his shirt behind his back, was forever present when he walked.

  At least to me.

  But for a city where permits to carry a weapon were prevalent, no one seemed to pay any attention. Nor had they even looked twice as we’d walked the sidewalks in front of trendy shops at his dark clothing and penetrating stare. In their minds, he was just another resident making a fashion statement.

  It didn’t matter the heat was oppressive.

  In contrast I was wearing a summer dress, light, airy, and brightly colored. I had no clue why I’d selected the outfit, but the moment I’d walked from my bedroom, his eyes had shifted from zero emotion to raging desire.

  At least he hadn’t said anything.

  “This is where you want to go?” In desperation after he’d grunted his disapproval at my selection of stores several times, I’d driven to the most fashionable and expensive shopping mecca in Miami.

  Bal Harbour.

  The open-air mall housed everything luxurious. Even the recent trend of shopping online hadn’t destroyed the ambiance or the shops’ sales.

  He took a few seconds, scanning the two floors, tilting his head toward the bright blue sky peeking in. I couldn’t tell whether he was worried about whether he could find a decent store or if he was concerned about masked men attempting to assassinate him.

  I’d conjured up dozens of stories about his identity. Although his badness had already been established, I was more than curious what he really did for a living.

  Prince of some sovereign in Spain.

  Famous Spanish actor hated by everyone.

  Mafia Don.

  Hired gun.

  The theories were endless, but none suited him or answered all my questions. Was I still nervous he’d eventually kill me? Honestly? No. If I told anyone how I felt, they’d think me nuts.

  Crazy girl.

  Certifiable.

  But he was protective, always walking slightly behind me, his hand lightly touching the small of my back. I’d come to think of the gesture as endearing.

  “This will do,” he finally grunted.

  Animalistic style.

  I exhaled loudly enough he slowly turned his head toward me. He’d all but kidnapped me on this beautiful day by making me take him shopping, but I couldn’t lie. Calling into work, telling my boss I was taking a sick day had given me a sense of excitement. If nothing else, Kruz had pulled out a wad of cash, filling the tank of my bucket of rust with gas.

  Another story that I could remember in years to come. He’d turned up his nose at the car, his huge body barely fitting into the passenger seat. Instead of being insulted, I’d been amused.

  We strolled through the crowded venue and I felt exposed as a sham for no other reason than my attire. Did people really dress like this to go shopping? Even if the shoppers were in more casual clothes, yoga pants and brightly colored form-fitting crop tops, the attire screamed of money.

  I’d once experienced the same thing, but that was a long time ago in a galaxy far away. Okay, maybe not a galaxy, but another life. That wasn’t an exaggeration.

  “There’s a men’s suit place up on the right,” I told him. My stomach was already growling. There was incredible food in the apartment thanks to the man and I’d found nothing edible. Maybe eating food provided by a monster was too distasteful. The stale muffin I’d consumed while he’d watched me was long gone. “I think you’ll find something that will suit your style.”

  “What is my style, Christine?”

  Every time he said my name, a series of shivers shifted all the way to my toes. The inflection was dark and very intimate. “Your aura screams of power. The suit should be dark, but not black. That’s too on the nose. Charcoal with a crisp white shirt. But you must wear cufflinks. Not too flashy. Maybe black onyx. Gold is too… boring and every day for a man like you. But your choice of tie must be bold. I’d suggest red, but all I’d think about what how much blood you create in whatever job it is you do. Maybe… cobalt blue. But with a flair. There are some gorgeous ties that have spectacular designs. Think artistic meets grunge.”

  “Artistic meets grunge?”

  “It’s an American thing.”

  He chuckled and suddenly pulled my arm so I’d be forced to stop.

  “No, not here,” I told him. “This is perhaps the most upscale women’s clothing store in all of Miami. They sell every fabulous designer brand. Versace. Prada. You name it. Not that you wouldn’t look good in a dress, but…” I laughed.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he pulled me around to face him. When he cupped my jaw, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my bottom lip, my breathing was instantly stifled.

  “You should think more of yourself, my little cake. You are a beautiful, sensual woman who deserves to dress in stunning clothes. Trust me.”

  “Trust you. That’s still a teensy tiny bit impossible. I hope you can understand. Let’s get you that suit.” When I started to walk away, he grabbed my hand, the move so forceful I was yanked directly into his arms.

  His hold was firm, my back arching as he slid one hand against the back of my head. “You will learn.” He slowly lowered his head, allowing his lips to lightly brush across mine.

  My fingers involuntarily wrapped around his tee shirt and I leaned into the kiss. Just briefly. Just enough to taste the hint of hazelnut coffee and toothpaste. His scent was still heavenly, the shower he’d taken awakening his pores.

  Kruz kept the kiss light, barely dragging the tip of his tongue across my bottom lip, but it was just enough that the wild girl inside of me swooned.

  “Yes, you will learn.” With nothing else said, he kept his fingers wrapped around mine and pulled me into the store. Immediately we received strange looks from the swarm of clerks who obviously worked on commission.

  It was funny how none of the frou-frou women were heading for us with a skip in their step.

  Except for one.

  The young woman seemed intrigued and I could almost see her wheels turning as she tried to figure out what famous celebrity couple we were. Oh, why not? Pretending to be someone I could never be again wouldn’t be the worst thing I’d done in a couple of days.

  I held my head high even though butterflies were swarming my stomach.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. When she directed her question and lust-filled look toward Kruz, I was shocked an intense roar from the lioness inside almost popped from my mouth.

  Holy shit. I was jealous.

  Really?

  Why and how? He didn’t belong to me. That would be insane.

  But my muscles were tense and I leaned into him, visibly claiming my territory. She finally glanced in my direction, looking up and down at my attire with an upturned nose.

  So much for celebrity status.

  “Yes, anything and everything mi pequeño pastel wants she will have. And I do mean anything. I plan on spending an exorbitant amount of money in this store. But only if you cater to her every need. Do you understand?” He was taking the bull by the horns.

  I lifted my head, narrowing my eyes until they had to be beady. What the fuck was he doing?

  “Yes, of course. Where would you like to begin?”

  And there it was, just like in one of my favorite movies, Pretty Woman, the man had spoken. Only instead of pulling out a gold or black credit card, he used his strong jaw and extraordinary muscles as the perfect method of persuasion.

  The man was a master, since I’d had no less than three clerks recommending clothes, offering advice when I’d been uncertain of the color or material. The entire time Kruz had positioned himself outside the dressing rooms, able to see the entrance while lording over what final selections were made.

  With a simple nod of his head, everything from dresses and intimate wear, casual clothes and jeans were tossed in a pile ready for purchase.

  The entire morning had become a whirlwind and I was exhausted. My idea of trying on clothes was holding the item in front of me while I glared into whatever store mirror I could find. So far, he’d been particularly picky about colors. Every outfit deemed acceptable had been bold in color. Was the man attempting to nourish the vixen in me?

  When I finally had a moment to myself, I stood inside the dressing room, slumping against the pretty in pink wall. In my hand remained a half-finished flute of champagne. I had no clue whether it was company policy to appease their customer with expensive bubbly or whether Kruz had strongly suggested that one of the minions, as he’d called the clerks in my ear, had been sent to the grocery or wine store.

  I slowly turned my head, staring at the face of the girl holding the perfectly cut crystal stem. She certainly wasn’t the same one who’d left work the day before with stains on her skirt and sweat under her armpits.

  Somewhere along the way, the woman staring back at me had turned into Cinderella. Maybe she was a little tarnished, but this was befitting of a fairytale after all. I laughed and lifted my glass, giving myself a small gesture of celebration. Now, with my eyes closed, I licked the rim of the glass, trying to enjoy the moment.

  However short lived it would be.

  How many women could say they felt a crackle of electricity when their man walked into a room? Certainly, very powerful men commanded every location they walked into, which I suspected was something Kruz had accomplished at an early age. However, the sizzling sensations were something entirely different. I felt alive, even wanted.

  And free.

  Uninhibited.

  That had never occurred before.

  That crackle let me know Kruz had invaded my privacy. There was no sound, but I just knew, my instinct affirmed when strong fingers wrapped around mine before taking the glass away.

  When I finally opened his eyes, he placed a single finger across his lips. For a hard man, they appeared far too soft. Kissable.

  I didn’t notice that he’d set the flute down somewhere. I was too busy enjoying the extreme look in his eyes. He was different today, parading around his confidence and prowess like a gold shield. His dangerous persona certainly gave him permission to be anything he wanted to be.

  He crowded my space even more, using his full body weight to push me against the wall.

  With no words said, he captured my mouth. The way he kissed me was as if I was the air he needed to breathe. But for me, the rush of emotions and the crush of sensations were in response to another taste of the forbidden.

  I could get used to this.

  He gently pushed my lips apart, sliding his tongue inside. Every sound he issued was guttural yet controlled. Although somehow I doubted he cared about anyone overhearing our carnal play.

  I did so adore the taste of the man and the way his body felt against mine.

  When he finally pulled our lips free, he tilted my head, dragging his tongue from one side of my jaw to the other.

  “Be careful,” I whispered, tingling even more than I’d been before. “You’ll crinkle the dress and you’ve yet to decide whether you like this one.”

  “I’m not inclined to be careful about anything I crave.” He wrapped one hand around my throat, the act so possessive my nipples immediately hardened.

  “No, you’re not.” I didn’t ask him why he wanted me because it simply didn’t matter. We clicked. I rubbed the palms of my hands down his chest, neither of us blinking as I unfastened his belt. I darted a look around him at the thick curtain keeping unwanted eyes from spying on us.

  The fabric remained closed. I bit back a sigh and unzipped his cargo pants, sliding my hand inside. Just touching his thick cock made my mouth water. On top of everything, the very bad man had awakened the naughty girl inside of me. I pushed him away gently, tonguing my lower lip before slowly falling to my knees.

  His chuckle was as dark as the way he was dressed. He planted one hand on the wall, grabbing a handful of my hair at the scalp with the other.

  I tugged down his pants, finally exposing his swollen balls. The scent of the man was dangerous, infusing my senses with a strong scent of musk. I gave him a mischievous look before darting my tongue across his cockhead.

  He muttered something in Spanish that was drowned out by the soothing music oozing from unseen speakers. Maybe the sound would mask my cries when he fucked me.

  And I knew he would.

  I swirled the tip of my tongue around his cockhead, slathering his shaft with my saliva. Just being able to taste him this way was sinful enough, but I had a feeling he was lacking in patience.

  So I had to hurry.

  After blowing across the surface, I licked all the way down the underside to his testicles, taking one ball sac into my mouth.

  He tugged on my hair and jutted his hips forward. I sucked until he growled, finishing with licking from one ball to the other. When I stole a quick glance at his face, I was shocked how heated his expression had become.

  “Keep sucking,” he commanded.

  With his grip on my hair remaining firm, there was no choice. Not that I minded. I took his shaft down an inch at a time, constantly swirling my tongue back and forth. He grunted in pleasure. Every sound he made boosted the electricity, but I could swear they were getting louder and louder.

  My eyes cinched closed, I enjoyed the moment, licking and sucking. When he finally took control, fucking my mouth with even but brutal strokes, the light gagging noise coming from my throat added to the strange mix.

  He fucked my mouth for at least two minutes, every second passing adding tension to his stance. As well as additional heat inside the tight confines. I was breathless, swimming in perspiration. He was so rock hard he filled my mouth to the point my jaws were aching.

  My heart racing.

  Enjoying this made no sense, but that’s exactly what was happening. I was thrown by the continued sensations, torn between wanting him to come in my mouth and needing him to drive his cock deep inside my pussy.

  Decisions. Decisions.

  Only I wasn’t the one making them.

  He answered my question of need, jerking me to my feet. I was about to remind him about the dress again when he yanked the hem up by several inches, driving his hand between my thighs.

  “Oh, fuck,” I said way too loudly, instantly biting my lower lip. Every part of me was quivering so badly I gripped his shoulder for support.

  “Do you want something, sweet Christine?”

  I doubted the word sweet could be used in conjunction with my name any longer. Nothing about me remained like saccharine after what I’d done in only a few hours. “Uh-huh.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your big fat cock.” Shame on me.

  Not.

  “Then you should have what you want.” He shoved the material of my thong aside, driving his fingers into my tight channel.

  “Oh, fuck.” My eyes flew open wide. The screech was more than excessive. It was ridiculously loud, but I was also beginning not to care.

  I wiggled against the wall while digging my nails into his shoulder. If the man experienced pain, I certainly wouldn’t know it. Panting, I opened my legs even wider, taking another glance at the doorway. Why did I have the feeling there were people standing just outside the makeshift door?

  A little show perhaps?

  The bad girl side of me was really kicking in. I almost asked him to open the curtain out of spite. They could want what I had, but they could never touch. Oh, my God. How possessive I’d become.