Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Antonio's rumble of approval when I emerge shouldn't satisfy me so much, but it does. I drink in his heated gaze, giving my hips an extra swing as I walk. This man makes my body come alive. He thrills me like Jake never could. Like no other man has.
He takes my hand, and we climb down to the speed boat waiting below.
“Where are we?” I ask when we disembark.
“Miami.”
Still the U.S.. I can work with that.
“Oh good, I love Cuban food.” I pull my hand from his grasp and give my hair a toss as I stride forward.
Two of his men instantly flank me, and I jump, feeling threatened.
“Step back from my wife,” Antonio growls.
His use of the word wife is no less shocking this time. It’s like the man electrocutes me every time he lays claim on me. And I can’t say I completely dislike it.
The men give me space.
I wait for Antonio to fall into step beside me again. Given the choice between him or his men, I’ll take him. Besides, I need him to think he has me in hand, so I can get away later. Escape to a bathroom and get the use of a phone. Something.
He rests a hand lightly at my lower back, and we walk down the esplanade. “Have you been to Miami before?”
“I haven’t,” I admit.
“There’s a shop here known for its black pearls. Do they interest you?”
I sense Antonio’s desire to please me. Perhaps that’s why I get stubborn. “No.”
He tugs me into one of the shops. “Let’s have a look anyway.”
A well-dressed man stands behind the case. He inclines his head and greets us. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon.” I glance at the jewelry in the glass display cases, aware of Antonio’s attention on me. The intensity with which he regards my interest. I don’t dare look for a phone or accomplice yet.
“Show us those.” He points at the one necklace my gaze bounced over–a single giant pearl mounted in white gold on an arty asymmetrical curve.
It’s stunning.
Not conservative or predictable.
I would’ve hated a regular strand of pearls. I’ve been wearing white pearls my whole life. Every female I know wears white pearls. I could care less about the look or the expense of them.
This piece is different, though.
Antonio points to the case at a matching ring. “Show us the ring, as well.”
The shopkeeper rushes to serve him, pulling out both pieces and putting the necklace on me before I can protest. He holds a mirror up for me to admire.
It’s lovely. Rainbows dance and glimmer in the shimmering black-silver orb.
The shopkeeper tries to put the ring on my right hand, but Antonio takes it off, removes the engagement and wedding ring Jake bought, and slides it in place there instead.
I hate that it fits me perfectly because I don’t want to love it so much. Nor do I want to feel gratified that he wants to replace that ring. I wanted to keep hanging onto that offense and use it to stroke my defenses against him.
“We’ll take them both. And those earrings.” Antonio points to a pair of two-inch long drop earrings with giant black pearls on the ends of a single white gold shaft.
He shells out an ungodly amount of money, and I wear the set out of the shop.
When we get outside, he holds my jaw and turns my head from side to side, inspecting me the way he did in the limo on our wedding day. “They suit you. Classy but different from the rest. Far more unique than the others.”
I fight the warmth his words produce. Fight it with all the resistance I can muster. “Am I supposed to thank you?”
He releases my jaw. “No. You wearing them is thanks enough.”
I turn those words over and around in my head, wondering what they mean. Why would he care if I wear his gift or not. What he truly wants with me.
Because it feels like it’s changed.
He’s not just out for revenge. If that were the case, he wouldn't care if I wore his ring. He wouldn’t buy me a new ring.
No, Antonio is trying to please me.
And as much as I hate to admit it…I’m pleased.
Which changes nothing with regard to my plan to make contact with my father tonight.
Antonio
A strange thing has happened.
I simply like to be in the presence of my wife. Yes, she’s easy on the eyes, but it’s more than that. I like to hear her voice, even when it’s tight and defensive. I like to watch her expressions. I like seeing that while she tries to hide her feelings, she’s attracted to me. Enjoys my attention.
If I let her win a few rounds, she just might drop her defenses again. We might have a chance of an actual marriage. It’s not what I wanted–not what I expected–at least not consciously. But this woman has been at the center of my revenge plan from the beginning. She was the trigger. The girl I was told I wasn’t good enough for and didn’t deserve.