Tease Me(18)

The dining room was huge. It was dark and cold as I passed by the large, oak table. Everything was beautiful and must have cost a fortune. I could hear Alejandro speaking to someone, words spilling from his mouth so fast I didn’t think I could keep up even if it was in English.

I paused when a painting in the dining room caught my eye. It was of a dark forest lit by blue moonlight. There was something soporific about the still trees. I studied the painting for a few seconds. The brush strokes were similar to the painting in the guest room. There was no signature at the bottom of the picture.

I followed the sound of Alejandro’s voice into the kitchen. He was leaning on a gray granite counter holding a bottle of water in one hand and his phone in the other. His eyes flashed when he saw me, and he slowly let them trail over my body.

An older man stood at the stove, browning ground beef. The wonderful smell of Mexican food made my stomach grumble. Alejandro turned his back to me, finishing the conversation. I stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen, feeling self conscious and scared.

The man at the stove—who had to be the cook—turned and did a double take. He had to be used to Alejandro bringing women home with him, but he probably was expecting some scantily clad bimbo and not me, with wet, messy hair and a robe over my designer dress.

“Ellie,” Alejandro said, setting his phone done. “Sit.” He motioned to a table off in a nook off the kitchen. Through the dark windows, I caught a glimpse of the ocean. The breath caught in my chest.

I blinked, recovering fast, and moved to the table. I sat opposite Alejandro.

“So,” he started, folding his hands on the table. “Tell me about yourself.”

I put my hands on my elbows and pressed my arms into my stomach. “Uhh…I’m a cop.”

“I already know that,” he said. His tone was authoritative and commanding. I was scared of him and even more attracted to him. In proper light, I could see that a five o’clock shadow looked absolutely fucking perfect on him. “Tell me something else.”

“There isn’t much else,” I said honestly. “I work, a lot.” I didn’t see any point in lying to him. “My best—and only—friend moved thousands of miles away, so I spend my free time watching too much TV and looking at funny cats on the Internet. I can barely pay my rent, and no one appreciates me at work.” I put my hands on the table. “Now tell me something about yourself.”

Alejandro leaned back. He tipped his head toward me. “No,” he said simply. “Tell me more.”

I sighed. If he wanted info on my family or friends to use as blackmail, he could get it with just a few clicks on the Internet. I was so glad that Misty and her unborn baby moved far away. “My father and brother are cops too. But you know that.” I pressed a smile.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Alejandro said and leaned back in his chair. The cook came over, serving us each a glass of water.

“No, you’re not,” I said and reached out, catching a bead of condensation that rolled down the glass with my finger.

Alejandro chuckled. “You’re right. I am not sorry.”

“And you say you’re not a bad person,” I mumbled.

He leaned forward. The width of the table was between us, but he felt close. My skin prickled. “I never said that. I am a bad person. I do very bad things. You should be scared of me, Eleanor Morgan.”

I swallowed hard and managed to nod. “I know,” I whispered, my voice weak. “Trust me, I know.” I tried hard to fight back the tears. Really, I did. I didn’t want to cry in front of Alejandro. I looked up, blinking away the tears. It was more than the fear and being somewhere unknown. It was the whole fucking thing: the standstill my life was in, feeling underappreciated at work, having no friends, barely having enough money to get by…my life was a disappointment, to say the least.

“I won’t hurt you,” he stated softly. My gaze dropped to his handsome face, and suddenly I felt safe. He licked his lips and picked up his glass of water. He took a drink and set the glass back on the table. His dark eyes met mine. “Not if I don’t have to.”

His words were cold, and the feeling of a safe haven was suddenly gone. I took in a deep breath, steadying myself. Alejandro was impregnable. I was stuck here as his prisoner.

“So what do I have to do?” I asked, voice shaking.

Alejandro had a practiced calm. He had to. He was the big boss, the kingpen. He dealt with things way worse than one measly cop finding out about his operation. But as soon as the question escaped my lips, that practiced calm faltered.