Chapter 20

Mia

Our mouths collided sharing the taste of me and stealing my breath. Aléjandro’s tongue slid over mine, rekindling the heat of my last orgasm. We were a flurry of kisses, faces turning and noses bumping. It was as if neither of us had ever kissed before. My limbs were rubber, and my mind was mush. A hunger like I’d never felt burrowed deep within me.

With Aléjandro’s weight over me, his hard-as-steel penis probed my thigh—a reminder of what was still to come. All the pleasure from moments before crashed down around me. The euphoria I’d experienced drained from my circulation, the endorphins replaced by adrenaline. With each passing second, my blood pressure increased, and my heart rate spiked.

My lungs refused to accept the abundance of oxygen readily available.

“Stop.” Pushing against his shoulders, I panted for my next breath. “Don’t.” I pushed with all my strength against his unmoving stone chest.

Aléjandro stiffened, his entire body going rigid. Waves of tension vibrated through the air.

I clenched my teeth.

Oh God. I’d done it.

A chill ran down the length of my spine.

After all the restraint he’d shown, how did I respond? By making him mad.

My emotions were all over the place, swinging too drastically in too short a time. Scrunching my eyes shut, I fought the tears prickling my eyes, balled my fists, and protectively brought them to my chest. My stomach filled with dread as I waited for his outrage.

When Aléjandro lifted his weight, my sense of self-preservation kicked in. I rolled away from him, settling on my side and pulling my knees to my chest. I wanted to reach for the blankets. Maybe the warmth would stop my shaking, but I refused to move more than I needed to.

Still and small.

It was a ridiculous notion that after igniting someone else’s anger, I could become small. As I swallowed back tears, I recognized that was my goal—to get small and disappear.

Lost in my litany of thoughts, I didn’t notice the mattress move or feel Aléjandro leave the bed. My eyes stayed shut until I heard the sound of the bathroom door closing. Confused, I dared to peek beyond my cocoon. Lifting my head, I scanned the bedroom suite. Aléjandro was nowhere to be seen.

Where was his rage?

Josefina said that Roríguez men were passionate.

Wasn’t wrath the emotional equivalent of passion?

Keeping an eye on the bathroom door, I unfolded my body and sat up, placing my feet on the floor. If I were thinking rationally, I would be ashamed by the excessive moisture between my thighs. I wasn’t thinking sanely. Instead, I was contemplating avenues of escape. If I could dress before Aléjandro came out of the bathroom, I could go…

We were on a superyacht.

My options were limited.

Josefina.

If she was still awake…if I could find her…and tell her what?

Anna Moretti, Rocco’s mother, cringed in fear whenever Tommaso raised his voice. I’d never tried to tell her about the way her son treated me. I’d figured he’d learned his behavior by example.  

Using a tissue, I wiped the evidence of our encounter away from between my legs. Next, I located my panties and nightgown. The sound of a shower came from the bathroom. My chest ached as I worried about Aléjandro’s arm. I could offer to help him again, but there was still the residual fear.

If he wasn’t going to lash out at me, would he decide to punish me in other ways?

I tried not to think of Rocco’s ability to be cruel. His punishments didn’t always leave visible bruises. Sometimes the emotional torture was worse.

Pulling my nightgown over my head, I went to the closet and retrieved the long plush robe I’d seen earlier. This yacht was stocked like a five-star hotel except there was no monogram or label on the robe. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair.

Running away would get me nowhere. Besides the obvious fact that there were only so many places I could go on a yacht, Aléjandro would eventually find me. And making a scene could only fester his anger.

The decanter on the counter called my name. I poured two fingers of tequila into one of the clean tumblers.

The sound of the shower behind the bathroom door disappeared.

It wouldn’t be long before the door would open.

With the tumbler in hand, I padded out onto our balcony. My bare feet met the coolness of the tile. The outside temperature had dropped, making me appreciate the warmth of the terrycloth robe. LED lights reflected blue upon the clear railing. Bringing the tumbler to my lips, I relished the burn as the alcohol made its way down my throat.

How long would it take to dim my senses?

At the opening of the bathroom door, I turned away, staring out at the dark ocean and up to the heavens. When I was a little girl, the nuns at my school taught me that all answers could be found in prayer. As an adult, I learned that wasn’t true. Solutions didn’t come from above, but from whoever had control of your world. Whether it was my father, Rocco, or later Dario, I knew in the depth of my soul and marrow of my bone that God was out of the equation. If he wasn’t, then he wasn’t a merciful being but a vindictive one—if he truly existed at all.

With my body flush against the railing, I waited for what was to come. I was trapped in a gilded cage. Yes, my surroundings were more luxurious than before, but that made me no less a captive by the vows we’d spoken.

The fresh scent of bodywash infiltrated the sea air before the warmth of Aléjandro’s body materialized behind me. My grasp of the tumbler tightened, threatening to crush the crystal as every muscle tensed.  

I startled as his deep baritone voice cut through the stillness. His warm breath skirted across my neck. “Are you contemplating jumping?”

Jumping.

Death.

No.

My chin fell to my chest as new tears slid down my cheeks.

Aléjandro’s arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me against his hard chest.

I remained still, fighting the urge to pull away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bandage. “Did you get it wet?”

“No.” He craned his neck and softly kissed my cheek. “You didn’t answer. Are you considering a midnight swim?”

My mind couldn’t compute.