Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Liana
Anger burns hotter than this stupid fricking Arizona sun. For four days, I've made these four walls my kingdom, my prison and my sanctuary…my silent protest.
I've read three books cover to cover, painted my nails twice, and memorized every crack in the ceiling.
Anything to keep from thinking about Frankie's face when he caught me watching him, or the way his voice changed when he called me Datura. Anything to keep from thinking about my family and how I still haven’t heard a word or even been able to contact them.
Pita knocks three times a day, like clockwork. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Always with that same worried smile and the same gentle coaxing.
"Mija, you need fresh air. Come eat with me in the garden."
"The pool is so lovely today. No one's around. How about a quick swim?"
"I made your favorite pasta. At least come to the kitchen?"
I refuse every single time. Sometimes with silence and sometimes with venom I know she probably doesn’t deserve.
"If I'm a prisoner here, I may as well act like one," I told her yesterday when she tried to tempt me with homemade gelato. "Isn't that what good captives do? Stay in their cells?"
Earlier today she tried a different angle.
"Frankie's been asking about you."
‘Liar.’
That got a bitter laugh out of me.
"Oh? Has my keeper summoned me for marriage yet? Or is he still too busy with his…work?"
She flinched at that, something knowing in her eyes. Does she know what happened between us? What secrets does she keep? Maybe everyone in this house is pretending not to know things.
On the fourth evening, I'm just stepping out of the shower when my bedroom door crashes open causing me to shriek out loud. There’s no knock, no warning, just the violent swing of wood against the wall and then…
Frankie. He stands in the doorway with a furious energy radiating off of him.
I clutch my towel tighter as water drips down my legs onto the cold tile.
"Jesus Christ," I gasp, heart hammering. "Ever heard of knocking?"
His eyes snap to mine, then drop…a slow, deliberate sweep down my body that leaves heat in its wake.
The towel suddenly feels paper-thin like he can see every curve of my body through it.
I watch his throat work as he swallows, the white flower tattoo flexing on his neck enticingly.
Something reckless and wild surges through me.
‘Why not? What do I have to lose at this point? Maybe my future husband will come meet me sooner when he finds out about the chaos I’m causing.’
I loosen my grip on the towel, letting it slip just a fraction and watch with satisfaction as his eyes darken, his pupils blown wide. Another inch and…
"Get dressed," he growls, a threat lacing his tone like he’s daring me not to do it. "Now."
I let the towel fall completely.
For one agonizing second, he doesn't move. He doesn't even blink as he just stares. I don’t know who’s surprised more at my deliberate act…
him or me? His jaw remains clenched so tight I can see the muscle jump as his eyes devour my body.
They rake lower over my breasts, stomach and thighs leaving a fire wherever they touch.
He turns away just as quickly before speaking over his shoulder.
"Five minutes. Downstairs."
The door slams shut behind him and I stand naked in the middle of my room with my heart racing and skin flushed. The look on his face…God. It’s as if he wanted to consume me whole. And boy would I let him.
A laugh bubbles up unexpectedly. For the first time in days, I feel something other than anger.
I feel powerful. I played with fire and didn't get burned…not yet, anyway. I dress quickly, choosing a sundress with a flowing skirt and thin straps that show off my shoulders. There’s nothing underneath but bare skin and lacy panties.
Let him imagine what could be underneath when he looks at me.
Downstairs, Frankie waits in the living room, typing away on his cell phone. He doesn't turn when I enter, but I know he hears me. His shoulders tense minutely as I look at his cell phone longingly. He doesn’t even mention what just happened upstairs.
"Come on," he says with a clipped voice.
"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to sound casual. "Isn't it a little late to be going out?"
He turns then, eyes carefully avoiding mine.
"Pita says you haven't left your room in days. I'm getting you the fresh air you seek so badly." His mouth quirks, almost a smile. "Unless you prefer to stay here in your prison?"
‘Was that a joke?’
"No," I say quickly, almost too eagerly. "I want to go out. Anywhere."
I catch the ghost of a smirk before he schools his features back to neutral. He gestures toward the door, and I follow him out to the waiting SUV.
In the car, I can't help stealing glances at his profile. His sharp jaw, the shadow of stubble and the tattoos disappearing beneath his collar. What would it be like to trace them with my fingertips? My tongue? There’s a small cut on his eyebrow today but it looks like it must have already been stitched.
I wonder if Rio hurts him like my uncle sometimes does his own men?
"Is there something on my face?" he asks suddenly, catching me staring.
Heat floods my cheeks.
"No," I mutter, turning away.
‘Change the subject, Liana.’
"Where have you been the past few days?"
"I had work to attend to."
"I thought I was your job?"
The words come out more vulnerable than I intended and I catch his eyes flicking to mine, then back to the road.
"You are not my only job, Datura."
I scowl at the nickname, turning to watch the darkness rush past my window. Always that word. Always that reminder that I'm something poisonous. Why couldn’t he have called me beautiful or sexy even?
‘Because you’re engaged, Liana. To his boss.’
After just a few minutes, we pull into a parking lot that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. But in the distance, I can see lights…beautiful blue, purple and green glowing against the night sky.
"What is this place?" I ask as I step out of the SUV, unable to hide my awe.
Frankie comes around to my side, standing close enough that I can feel his heat.
"Las Noches de las Luminarias," he says, the Spanish flowing smoothly from his lips. Something about his slang is sexy, alluring even. I want to hear him speak his language more.
"Like a festival?" I try to make sense of the words he says as I look at the lights, the strange beauty unfolding before me.
"It's electric, Liana." His voice softens, almost gentle. "The experience of the desert at night."
Then he gestures for me to follow. As we walk, the path opens up to reveal the Desert Gardens transformed. Thousands of luminarias line the walkways, cacti glow with strings of lights, and massive art installations pulse with color against the night sky. It’s enchanting.
"I never knew the desert could be so beautiful," I whisper, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
"Neither did I," Frankie says, and when I look at him, he's not watching the lights…he's watching me. Something unspoken burns in his eyes, making a shiver race up my spine.
I blush and turn away, suddenly shy under his gaze, which is ironic considering I just stood naked in front of him not even an hour ago.
For the next hour, we wander the paths and he watches as I explore everything.
We don't talk much but every now and then, his hand brushes mine, an accident that doesn't feel accidental at all.
Each touch sends electricity up my arm and straight to my core.
I wonder if he feels it too…this dangerous pull between us?
I wonder what would happen if I gave in to it completely? If we both did?