Chapter 9
KIARA
The one time I’m supposed to be guaranteed a break from this man, he shows up at the same damn party over six thousand miles away.
What are the chances? Am I just that unlucky?
But I have to give it to him. It makes sense.
Tonight was the biggest party for men in business across Europe, and if Raiden’s company is trying to secure deals and expand their reach, then it’s a no-brainer to send their senior international sales rep to make connections.
Though truth be told, he spent his whole night watching me from across the party instead of working those connections he’d come all this way to secure.
Ha. Asshole.
I sit at the hotel bar, helping myself to a glass of red wine as I try to let go of my frustration.
I needed just one night that didn’t revolve around Raiden Kane driving me mad.
Every word that comes out of his mouth is like nails on a chalkboard.
He irritates me to no end, and it has everything to do with that lustful way he watches me, as if already knowing exactly how I taste.
Hell, it might also have something to do with this intense sexual attraction I have for him, but there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m ever going to let him near me.
I would sooner die than ride him until my spleen fell out.
Fuck. I’m such a liar. If I could guarantee that his mouth would be sewn shut, I would give that man everything I had until I was nothing but a quivering mess on the floor. I’d beg him to smash through my pelvic floor.
Raiden Kane is exactly my type. That cocky grin and those flirty bedroom eyes.
They reel me in, and he knows it. But his body?
Shit. It’s sculpted to perfection. So tall and built just right.
Even his cock is like a gift sent from the heavens above.
The way I would drop to my knees and take him until the lining of my throat memorized every last vein.
God. I’d be such a whore for that man. But I’m too proud to ever admit it. At least to him, anyway. Nor would I ever give him the satisfaction of being right.
I left the party a little over an hour ago.
I’d slipped in and out and gotten all the information I needed to be successful here, and come tomorrow, it’ll all be over.
I can take myself back to my home in LA, and hopefully Raiden will remain here for a few extra days, and I’ll have the peace and quiet I need to get that asshole out of my head.
There’s no denying the party was great, though.
I’ve experienced more than my fair share of parties over the years, but nobody does it like they do in Barcelona.
It was an incredible night, even though I didn’t know anybody except the pervert who couldn’t keep his eyes off me across the bar. And I’m not talking about Raiden.
Louis Mendez. He truly was a pain in my ass, and the more he drank, the bolder he became until I decided it was time to get my ass out of there.
There are only so many times a woman can be groped and smile about it before her claws come out.
Hell, he should have been put down the first time he did it, but when you’re playing the role in an attempt to extort information, there are some things you simply have to tolerate for the greater good.
Luckily for me, Louis Mendez has loose lips and likes to talk when he’s had a few too many drinks.
He told me exactly where Javier was planning to be tomorrow, and after finding my way into his private home office and hacking into his planner, it was all too easy to find a time to go along with it.
He did have a breakfast date scheduled with his wife, which would have made for an easier hit.
However, in the interest of sparing her trauma, I’m going with option number two.
Until then, there’s nothing left for me to do but enjoy my time here in Barcelona, and in the spirit of being a good little travel blogger, I snap a few pictures of myself at the hotel bar, enjoying my drink.
Tomorrow I’ll get a few on the beach and then make my way around town, and after everything is said and done here, I’ll be back on my flight home to Spikezilla . . . and the asshole next door.
My phone chimes on the bar, and as I glance down, I find Louis’ name plastered across the screen with a new text. I let out a sigh, already knowing exactly what it’s going to say.
Louis: Where are you, sweetheart? Time to pay for that shopping spree on my card.
Ugh. He’s got to be kidding. But I should have known better.
Hell, I did know better, but I took the card anyway and swiped it like a pissed-off ex-wife with a score to settle.
I won’t lie, it was a great afternoon. As for getting down and dirty with Louis, hell no.
But that’s the risk you take when you freely give a young woman your card with unlimited spending. I don’t owe him shit.
As I push my phone away, not bothering to respond, movement in my peripheral has my gaze shifting to the entrance of the hotel bar, and I immediately let out a heavy groan before finishing what’s left of my red wine and asking for a refill. Something tells me I’m going to need it.
Out of all the hotel bars in Barcelona, how the hell did he end up in this one?
Raiden Kane steps through the main entrance of the bar, looking like a modern-day Greek god.
He’s wearing tan pants and a white button-down that’s rolled to his elbows, showing off the strong corded muscles of his forearms. The buttons are undone halfway down his chest, and goddamn it, I can’t look away from his defined pecs peeking through the gap.
A Rolex sits on his wrist, and while I usually don’t froth at a man wearing an expensive watch, there’s something about the way Raiden wears it that has my thighs clenching beneath the bar.
At the party, he wore a suit jacket, and I could barely hold myself together, even more so when his arm crept around my waist and pulled me in tight against him.
But it was his scent that threw me over the edge. I swear, men who wear thigh-clenching colognes should be sent straight to the darkest pits of hell. Toying with a woman’s self-control like that isn’t just a criminal offense; it’s psychological warfare.
Raiden spots me immediately, pausing in the doorway as he catches my eye, his brow arching at the same time that a cocky smirk stretches across his lips. And then just when I think I could be off the hook, he strides toward me, the over-confident ego of his flashing in his dark, gold-speckled eyes.
“Fuck me,” I mutter to myself. I’m in trouble. A woman can only resist a man like Raiden Kane for so long.
My wine is refilled just as Raiden steps up beside me at the bar, catching the bartender before he walks away and ordering himself a drink.
“Something you need?” I ask, and a heavy silence settles around us.
“Figure you’d be spending the night with your new sugar daddy.”
I choke on my wine. “I wouldn’t spread my legs for you,” I remind him. “What makes you think I’d ever spread them for a man like Louis Mendez? He’s a pig in an expensive suit, a married pig, at that. No matter how much money I racked up on his black card, I’m not that kind of girl.”
He nods as the bartender arrives with his drink. “Good to know.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, turning in my seat to face him directly. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know. You watched my every move all night. You know damn well that I didn’t leave with him.”
Raiden just smirks, not even attempting to deny it as he lifts his glass to his lips and takes a long drink.
I huff and turn back to the bar, shaking my head. “How does this keep happening to me?”
He puts his glass back on the bar and leans into me, one hand pressed against my left arm, the other coming down beside my right, caging me in between the bar and his warm chest. “How does what keep happening?”
I spin in my chair until we’re face to face, and I stare up at him, his lips barely a breath away from mine. “You,” I tell him. “Every time I think I’ve managed to escape you, there you are. At home. At the party. Here in this bar. I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
He scoffs. “It’s only a problem if that’s what you actually wanted,” he says, pressing into me just an inch until his thick thigh pushes between my knees.
My heart races, need rushing through me like a tsunami, destroying everything in its path. As my chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, I reach for the front of his shirt, desperately needing to pull him in.
His eyes become hooded, looking at me as though he could spend the rest of his life buried inside of me, and just as I lift my chin, silently begging him to close the distance, my phone chimes on the bar beside me.
Reality crashes back, and I suck in a breath, realizing just how close I was to crossing that line with the one man who drives me insane. I hastily shove him away. “In your dreams, Raiden,” I mutter as he laughs, enjoying this far too much.
I turn away and grab my phone, glancing over the new text from Louis.
Louis: That cunt belongs to me, Bianca. You won’t like what I make of you if I have to come looking.
Oh wonderful. Just a casual rape threat to end my evening. How lovely.
I laugh to myself as I start typing out a response.
Bianca: This number is no longer in service.
There. That should do it. At least, for now.
He’ll obsess over what he thinks he’s entitled to for the next few days, might even attempt to come after me, but he’s also a lazy motherfucker.
Once he realizes I’m no longer in the country, his search will stop, and he’ll set his sights on his next victim.
All while I watch and wait, hoping like fuck a contract appears with his name in bold.
Reaching for my wine, I throw back what’s left before giving Raiden a forced smile. “I’m out,” I say. “Feel free to see me again never, and stay here in this beautiful town for the rest of your natural-born life.”