Chapter 40 #2
As if mother nature wanted to remind me, I was drenched, a cold wind swirled around me and my teeth began to chatter.
I turned to find Remo waiting beside the open car door.
Ignoring his smile, I trudged closer and slid back in, my attempt still awkward and not caring that I appeared like a clumsy idiot.
I watched him walk around the car, open his door and climb behind the wheel with a graceful ease that left me briefly envious.
The engine purred to life, lighting up the dashboard with a luminous greenish glow of dials and buttons.
Rubbing my arms to warm up, I glanced at Remo whose eyes remained on the road as he pulled away from the curb.
A second later, a blast of hot air blew over me, heating my frozen body and melting my toes.
I sighed my pleasure, sneaking a glance at him.
Finding his eyes on me, I quickly averted my gaze to look out the window, not missing his soft chuckle.
“Here.” He handed me a towel which he probably retrieved from the back seat. “Dry yourself,” he coaxed when I frowned. While my internal alarm bells warned I shouldn’t accept anything from him, he leaned closer. “I could lick all those droplets off you, if you prefer.”
Flustered, my heart rate went from zero to hundred, keeping to the rhythm of the powerful roar of the car beneath us.
I took the towel as Remo tapped the gas pedal and the vehicle shot off down the road.
The air stifled in my throat for just a second before he eased up on the speed and soft music filled the car.
“Jazz? Really?” I mocked, patting my face with the towel, my nostrils flaring at the scent of fresh apples and lime.
He looked at me, his eyes shadowed by the dimly lit interior. “Why? Do I not look like a man who enjoys jazz?”
“Heavy metal and punk rock come to mind,” I replied, my tone sweetly sarcastic.
“I fuck hard, little fox, it’s all the head banging you’ll need.” He winked, flashing me a feral smile.
The rush of heat up neck and into my cheeks had nothing to do with the warm air blowing through the vents.
He returned his gaze to the road, leaving me with unsolicited visions of what lay beneath that control.
To regain some semblance of control over my runaway thoughts, I attempted to dry my hair while keeping my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, noticing the dark trees lit by an occasional streetlamp.
“My dungeon,” he replied, glancing at me. My eyes widened without effort. “I like my women shackled to the wall while I rape and torture her.” Amusement lined his tone, yet his eyes divulged a visceral threat as though the idea pleased him.
I swallowed what little saliva my suddenly parched throat begged for. “Why are…are you doing this?” I choked out, hating my stutter.
The car glided to a stop outside tall black gates that loomed suddenly. Flanked by large stone gargoyles and the mysterious darkness within its confines, it was a scene from a typical horror movie, the depraved kind. Despite the heat, I turned cold quickly, my gaze darting back to Remo.
“Why are…” I tried to repeat my question, and it got lost somewhere inside my shuddering body.
One hand on the wheel, the other reached out to cup my chin as Remo leaned closer.
Silently, he stared at me, his expression blank, his eyes unreadable.
“I’m the light to your darkness, and the sin to your virtue,” he said quietly.
“And together we’ll shower damnation in heaven and blaspheme Satan in hell. ”
I blinked. Was he serious? It sounded like a line from a bad gothic novel, overly dramatic and strangely intense. I waited for him to elaborate, to explain the weird philosophy, but he just studied my face. For a second, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
“What does that even mean?” My brow shot up.
He released his hold on my chin, turned away, and drove through the opening gates. A smirk touched his lips. “You’ll learn soon enough.”
Frowning, I kept my gaze on his side profile.
Since the first time I met him, his thick hair was always slicked back, stylish, neat and shiny.
Now, wet with rain, it tumbled in a sexy mess over his eyebrows, almost merging with his long, dark lashes.
The back was slightly shorter yet playfully grazed his collar when he moved.
If I didn’t know he was mafia, I’d label him a playboy billionaire.
He possessed the charm, the looks and the mystery a man women would stalk just to get a look from him.
My gaze flicked to his hands, one on the wheel, the other elbow resting on the door with a fingertip rolling over his lip.
Stupidly, I found myself remembering how he’d kissed me. His mouth warm contrasting his cold aggression; the graze of his lip ring that brought a pained pleasure I hadn’t experienced before. Would it be the same or a touch of emotion if he kissed me again?
“You can try it again if you want.” His eyes on the road, his words startled me.
“What?” I snapped, annoyed by my runaway thoughts. God, what was I thinking? I was supposed to fear him, not be consumed by the very aura of mystery he represented. I couldn’t understand this hesitation growing inside me. I was a doctor in training; indecision was a huge red flag.
He brought the car to a halt and half-turned to look at me, his tongue dragging a slow trail over his bottom lip. My eyes zeroed in on the action even though I tried not to look. “You’re wondering if I’d kiss you again, whether I’ll be soft and gentle or hard and unemotional.”
Holy cow. How did he know that? “No,” I spluttered, my cheeks burning.
His eyes, an emptiness I’d yet to witness on another man, bore into me. He didn’t answer but his smile—a slow, sinful twist of his lips that literally curled my toes, confirmed I was only lying to myself.
I pulled my gaze away, taking in the sprawling villa through the windscreen. Lit up, the cream building ornamented by white balconies and window frames was a beautiful distinction to the dark vision I’d witnessed at the gates.
Not Dracula’s palace then?
I rolled my lips to keep from laughing out loud. I didn’t doubt the same about the man occupying the seat next to me. After the way he sucked on my blood, he probably wouldn’t hesitate to drink more just to mock me that he could.
The sudden opening of my door, jerked my head to the side, alarm bells kicking up a storm in my stomach. I stared at the large man holding the door open, a huge scar ran from his chin to the opposite temple and I internally winced. Was he going to rape me too?
When I looked at Remo, he was already climbing out. Hesitation played with my feet before I exhaled on a long breath and got out.
“Evening, ma’am.” Scarface acknowledged me with a dip of his head, his smile made awkward by his cut lips.
Ashamed for thinking bad of him, I offered a small smile. “Good evening.”
Remo rounded the car and with a hand at my lower back, he tossed the car keys at the other man. “Has Gian left?”
“Yes, sir.”
With a quick nod, Remo guided me up the stairs to the large white double doors.
He opened one and ushered me inside. Barely two steps in, I jumped, my back hitting Remo’s chest when I came face to face with a large grey dog.
Short ears standing at attention, his light green eyes on me, his muscular body looked ready to pounce at a drop of a command.
“Holy shit,” I squeaked, pushing back into Remo’s body. A growl from the dog had Remo chuckling and I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Duke.” With one of his hands resting around my hips, he looked at the dog.
I snorted, earning a raised brow from him. “Maybe he learns it from his master,” I sassed.
Immediately, I regretted my words when Remo took one of my hands and held it out. “Come, boy,” he commanded the animal.
“What are you doing?” Stiffening, I tugged my hand, but Remo kept it steady as the dog walked up to us, his nails clicking against the porcelain tiles the only sound between us. God, the animal was huge.
Remo turned my hand, palm down but I fisted it. “Open your hand, let him sniff it.”
My gaze shifting between the dog and his owner, I slowly opened my hand. He lowered it to the animal’s snout. My stomach a quivering mess, I let the animal sniff my hand, his wet nose ticklish against my skin.
Remo released my hand. “Stroke him.” His voice was a deep rumble in my ear, his breath titillating the shell.
Somehow those words sounded a lot more sexual than they should and my core tightened.
God, this was madness. Why was I turned on by every freaking thing that came out of this man’s mouth?
I lifted my gaze to his. “The dog, little fox.” He winked as if privy to my chaotic thoughts.
Blushing, I looked at the dog and gently stroked the top of his head. He gave a soft whine of pleasure, inched closer and rubbed his head against my thigh. I laughed, giving him another caress. When I glanced up, Remo was watching me, his expression a vulnerability I found strange.
“Sometimes even the most aggressive animal needs a gentle touch,” he said, his blue eyes scanning my face.
We stared at each other, and I got the strange feeling he was referring to himself rather than the animal.
I frowned and his expression immediately shuttered, the usual blankness in place.
There was a quiet anonymity to this man and all I’d seen so far was the devil in disguise, waiting for me to sign away my soul.
What was I missing?
“Room, Duke,” he commanded. The dog gave me another nudge with his head, turned and walked away.
“How obedient,” I said distractedly.
“I reward obedience.” Remo squeezed my hip, urging me forward.
“How generous,” I chirped, sarcasm sweetening my words.