Reign (The Syndicate_ Crime and Passion Book 2)(11)

When she’d reached out to shake my hand, it had taken all my power not to fuck her right there. The formal sweetness of the gesture combined with the anything but sweet look in her eye had been a potent combination, one that had me hard for her instantly.

So why did I send her away?

That wasn’t a question I could answer, even as I stood nearly an hour later still hard and struggling not to stroke myself until I came, an image of Daniela in my head. Had I said the word, she would be here now, that dress gone, her body there, mine to lose myself in.

Even now, I was tempted to go to her, take what she had offered in her delicate way.

But I wouldn’t, not even as my throbbing cock urged me to rethink my decision. Daniela was Santo’s daughter, so I needed to tread carefully. But she was also something else, a woman who would shake her husband’s hand, blush when he took off his shirt, and then stare at him with the most passionate desire in her eyes.

A woman I suddenly found myself excited to get to know better.

I would have her. Of that there was no question.

The only question that remained was when.





Five





Daniela



The next morning, my eyes opened soon after the first strands of sunlight began to bellow through the sheer curtains. I didn’t move, though, much preferring to stay here in bed trying to hold on to the dream that was still imprinted on my mind.

It was a familiar one, all of us together, my mother healthy, my sister here, me free from the weight of my father’s world. I wished I could call it a memory, but it wasn’t that. No, the ease, the happiness that always came with that dream had never been there. We’d loved each other, always, but we’d never been free.

And I wasn’t free now, far from it.

I heard movement in the room next to mine, a reminder, quite unwelcome, that no matter how long I stayed here, no matter how long I tried to pretend, it wouldn’t change the reality of my circumstances. And that reality was that I belonged to him now.

I waited for the revulsion, hoped for it, but when it came, it lacked the intensity I wanted, needed to see me through. It wasn’t even revulsion at all. Knowing what he did, how I’d ended up back here wasn’t enough to supplant the seeds of attraction I felt for him.

They tasted like betrayal, like insanity, but they were there nonetheless.

How was that possible?

He’d taken my family home from the man who’d raised me, was keeping me from the only space I considered mine.

I should hate him for that.

I wanted to hate him for that. Told myself I did.

Feared it was a lie.

Because last night, I’d felt everything but hate. At first I’d been nervous, then embarrassed, then surprised. But all of those emotions paled next to the bone-deep desire I’d felt, desire that I still felt now, a low hum in my system that wouldn’t let me forget it.

There was no denying it, no pretending. I wanted him, wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone else.

And he’d sent me away.

That rejection stung, pinched at my chest and made my entire body hurt with it.

Which was foolish, stupid even. I’d been spared having to give my body to a man I hadn’t known twenty-four hours ago. I should be celebrating, but what I felt was disappointment.

“Stop moping, Daniela,” I whispered to myself as I lifted my body out of bed.

My mother had abhorred moping, hated complaining and wallowing, and I tried to follow her example whenever I could. Doing so now would give me something to focus on besides my own thoughts, the puzzle of trying to figure out why Sergei had found me lacking.

The soft carpet against my feet was familiar, as were the decorations in the room. The tasteful dark wood furniture had been there for as long as I could remember. In fact, I didn’t think anything had changed in this room since I was a teenager over a decade ago. My mother had kept it as it had been, and after she died, I hadn’t had the heart to change it.

Not that I’d ever expected to sleep in it again.

The sun caught on the huge diamond that weighed down my finger.

I hadn’t expected a lot of things.

Heaving out a sigh, I headed to the suitcases that were lined against the chaise lounge. I walked over to the lounge and sat.

Desire aside, I still hadn’t quite decided what to make of Sergei. He’d seemed so sure, so confident, but not in a way that I was used to. My father’s men always projected confidence, but it was of a different sort, almost a performance.

Sergei’s had been real.

He hadn’t carried himself like he wanted to convince everyone else of his toughness. He hadn’t needed to. He simply was. He’d seemed as confident and sure of himself when dismissing me as he had standing at the altar in the midst of a church full of enemies.