6|Sweet Smile

~Kai~

Defiance was written all over her face. Those piercing green eyes burned with rage determined to burn me to the ground, and it’s fucking turning me on. I had to keep my hands busy with the food on the tray. My palms were itching to make her submit to me, to have a taste of the gorgeous brat standing before me in nothing but a bathrobe.

Droplets of water dribbled down her exposed skin. My jaw clenches at the thought of her answering the door only wearing that. Her hair was a dark mess in a bun above her head. A few locks, wet from her bath, stick onto her neck. The robe ends in the middle of her thighs. I knew she had a gorgeous body, but her skin… damn, it’s tanned to perfection, and I want my lips to map every inch of her.

If only she wasn’t my job. If only she wasn’t the boss’s daughter. I could look past her bratty attitude and make her mine. And fuck, I badly want to make her mine; it’s driving me crazy that she’s off limits.

Staring at her right now, really staring at her eyes, I could see the sadness she kept masking with defiance and attitude.

I want to ask her why she’d been crying when we found her. Why she run away from her mother instead of dashing into her arms? But that is none of my business. My job is to protect her, nothing more.

“Do I make myself clear, Princess?” I stood, heading to the door. 

She replied with silence, glaring at me, the fire in her eyes glowing like a lighthouse luring me to the shore in a stormy sea. Damn. Defiance looks fucking sexy on her.

I stalked to where she was with slow and precise steps. Her eyes scan my body, her throat bobbing up and down as I reach her. I bit down a smirk.

‘So the brat is affected by my presence too.’ My cock jumped in excitement.

She craned her neck, making up for our height difference. “Do I make myself clear, Berenice?”

I need to make sure she understands our situation. She might try to run away again, but I need her to hear my words. If she does that stunt again, I can hold her responsible for the punishment I am itching to bestow upon her.

She glared back at me. I was never one to back down. It was a staring contest, but she nodded with a sigh, fatigue clearly making her cave.

“Good girl.” I grinned. She lowered her gaze, tucking a few wayward strands of her dark waves behind her ears. She missed a few locks. I wanted to do it myself, feel her skin and skim my thumb over her plump lip, feel how soft they were. But I shoved my hands into the pocket of my jeans. “I’ll get you dinner. Got any request in particular?”

She looked the other way, biting her lip, a stain of pink spreading on her cheeks. I clenched my fist. She looks fucking adorable up close, and her scent... She smelled so sweet. It must be her soap, but fuck, it stirs a raucous of wild thoughts in my brain. 

“Just what I ordered and a bottle of Dom,” she murmured and headed back inside the bathroom, slamming the door in my face.

I shook my head, chuckling, amused by her hot and cold attitude. Grabbing my shades from the duffle bag I put together while following her around the city, I walked out of the room and made sure it was safe to leave her alone for a few minutes.

I look stupid wearing shades at night, but the blotch on my face attracts too much unwanted attention.

Across the hotel was a local restaurant. I grabbed takeouts of gambas al ajillo, chickpea stew, paprika chicken and rice, vegetable salad, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

When I returned to the suite, my breath got caught in my throat. No, there wasn’t a threat to our safety, and no, Berenice was still in the room. And that’s the thing. The sight of her in a floral dress, barefoot without any makeup, patting her hair dry as she gaped at the open French door had my heart rate skyrocketing.

Staying the night in one room with her was probably a bad idea.

Hearing the door shut behind me, she averted her gaze from the balcony. She gave me a tired smile. It was small, but still the first expression she showed without animosity or wanting to kill me.

“Hey.” She stood, draping the towel on the vanity chair. Her hair cascaded in wet, dark curtains, framing her soft jaws.

My molars grind. I walked towards the coffee table and set the bags of takeouts down. One by one, I pulled the food container out and spread her food on the frosted wood table. She grabbed the tray with cutlery from the bedside table and sat beside me, her sweet scent filling my senses. Silently, she reached for the champagne and poured a bountiful amount into the two tall glasses meant for water.

She handed one to me. I paused, suspicious of her sudden kind gesture.

“I’m sorry if we got off on a bad start,” she murmured shyly when I just stared at the glass of champagne. “It was a crazy twenty-four hours, and I didn’t mean to set my anger on you.”

Accepting the glass, I took a sip only because I saw her open the bottle right beside me. I can never be too careless with her.

“Apology accepted.” I sat back on the couch. “Eat up and rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

She smiled once again. My heart stuttered. “Thank you,” she murmured and dug in on the food. She ate with the enthusiasm of a child eating her favorite meal. 

She must’ve felt my eyes on her. Gazing at me, she bit her lip and smiled meekly. “I hadn’t eaten all day.”

“Uh-huh. That’s all for you,” I said and pulled out my phone, pretending to pay attention to the device, but I had her in my peripheral vision. She was a messy eater, used her hands to eat the chicken, and at some point, she even licked each finger clean.

I kept shifting in my seat, glad that the food had all her attention. When she was done, I had a solid boner beneath my jeans.

Fucking hell.

She cleaned up after herself and sat back on the couch to drink her champagne.

“Where are we going?” she suddenly asked, facing me.

“Lisbon.”

“And?”

I don’t particularly feel at ease at the sudden shift in her mood. It’s like her mind is scheming a big plot that would end me in trouble. “The less you know, the better, Princess,” I said, but honestly, I still haven’t decided where I would take her.

I expected a tantrum, a protest, or a demand for more details, but she surprisingly hummed in agreement and finished her drink. “Where’s your room?”

“Here.”

She paused. Her shoulders went stiff as she swallowed hard. “We are not sharing the bed.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I countered, meeting her fearful eyes.

Does she think I would touch her without her permission? Yes, I am tempted to do a lot of ungentlemanly things to her body, but I don’t rape women. “I’ll sleep here,” I patted the couch. “You better rest. We’ll leave early tomorrow.”

She let out a breath and went to bed. I slept with one eye open, and I’m glad I did because when three am struck, I sensed movement from the bed. I watched in the dark as the bratty princess got dressed and tried to sneak out of the room again.

I knew I couldn’t trust that sweet smile.