ENRIQUE
I stood at the base of the staircase, my eyes fixed on the landing above. The sound of my measured breathing filled the silence, though my thoughts were anything but calm.
She was taking her time, and my mind…traitorous when it came to her…wandered.
Earlier, I had caught her in my room. Olivia Baker did not strike me as the type to snoop aimlessly, so it left me wondering. What had she been looking for?
A smirk tugged at my lips as I recalled the way she had flushed when I teased her about being unable to stay out of my space. She had stammered, her blush deepening to a shade that made her impossibly more alluring.
It was unnerving.
I shouldn't have enjoyed her discomfort, but I did. I shouldn't have enjoyed imagining her there, either—on my bed, naked beneath me. The image struck unbidden, vivid enough to leave my pulse pounding.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, shaking off the thought. Stop it, Enrique.
This wasn't the plan. Olivia wasn't some fantasy to indulge in. She was a means to an end. Nothing more.
Except, that wasn't entirely true, was it?
I had kissed her on our wedding night. Just once, brief and chaste. Then I had left her, drunk and willing.
The last thing I would do is take a woman that was in such a state as she was.
But right now, I wanted to touch her.
The click of heels against marble broke through my thoughts.
And then she appeared.
She descended the stairs like a vision, the dress she wore shimmering like liquid silver under the soft lights. It hugged her curves, the high slit teasing glimpses of her long, toned leg. The neckline dipped dangerously low, drawing my gaze to the soft swell of her breasts.
I swallowed hard, the heat rising in my veins impossible to ignore.
Her hair, as usual, was pulled into that damn bun. Sleek, tight, and far too restrained for someone as wild as her. It irritated me more than I cared to admit.
At the bottom step, her lips curved into a knowing smile.
"You are ogling," She teased, arching an elegant brow.
"I am admiring," I corrected, my voice rougher than I intended. "Not my fault when you look like that."
Her laugh was soft, but it slid under my skin, wrapping around parts of me I did not want to examine too closely… parts that hardened considerably.
My frown deepened as my eyes took in her hair. The bun mocked me, its precision at odds with the woman wearing it. Without thinking, I stepped closer. My hand moved to the back of her neck, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin there.
Her breath hitched. "What are you doing?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Fixing something."
She stepped back instinctively, a look of protest flashing across her face. "Enrique, don't—"
But I was already tugging at the pins. The bun unraveled under my hands, dark waves cascading over her shoulders in a way that made my chest tighten.
Her eyes widened, her mouth opening to protest further, but I silenced her with a look.
"Better," I murmured, my hand lingering for a beat too long. "It suits you."
Her cheeks turned a soft pink, and she looked away, her teeth catching her lower lip.
"You can't just undo my hair whenever you feel like it," she muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
"You can put it back up later," I said, smirking. "But not now."
She huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but the blush on her face told me she didn't mind as much as she wanted me to think.
"Shall we?" I extended my arm.
Her fingers slid into the crook of my elbow, warm and soft. For a moment, I allowed myself to savor the contact.
We walked to the elevator, the faint click of her heels against the polished floors mingling with the raging storm in my veins. I kept glancing at her out of the corner of my eye, and each time, I caught something new…something that made her seem impossibly more beautiful.
The way the dress shimmered as she moved, the tantalizing slit exposing her long, sculpted leg. The soft curve of her neck, now fully visible with her hair spilling over her shoulders. My gaze trailed to the delicate dip of her collarbone and then lower—damn it, Enrique, focus.
I shook my head slightly, forcing myself to concentrate on the task ahead, but it was impossible when she was right there. She was effortlessly alluring, and my traitorous body refused to ignore it.
In the elevator, I stole another glance at her. She shifted slightly, adjusting the strap of her dress, and my attention dropped to her slender neck. The soft hollow at her throat called to me, and I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to lean closer.
"Are you going to stare at me all night?" she asked, tilting her head to catch my gaze.
"Only if you keep looking like that," I said smoothly, casting her a grin
She rolled her eyes, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "I am beginning to think you have no self-control and that is shocking considering"
She was talking about my compulsive disorder and weirdly it did not annoy me that she brought it up
"No" I admitted before I could stop myself.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. The soft chime of the elevator reaching the ground floor saved me from having to explain.
The car was waiting outside, and I guided her to it, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. It was a subtle touch, but even that sent a bolt of heat through me.
Once inside, the silence stretched. She glanced at me, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "What should I expect tonight?" she asked softly.
I looked at her, taking in the uncertainty in her eyes. She was nervous. For all her fire and confidence, she also did not like walking into situations she couldn't control… just like the one I was walking into right now.
"Relax," I said, reaching over to still her hand. "You will be amazing. Don't over think it."
Her lips pressed together in a tight line, and I could tell she wasn't entirely convinced.
"You'll be fine," I assured her, my voice firm. "Just stay by my side, and you won't have to deal with anyone."
Her gaze flickered to mine, searching for something. When she nodded, I felt a strange sense of relief.
The ball was in full swing when we arrived. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and power, mingling with something darker, more dangerous. These people weren't here for the glamour; they were here to watch, to scheme, to strike when the moment was right.
I kept Olivia close, my hand resting protectively on her waist. Her scent—a mix of something floral and uniquely hers—drifted up to me, and I found myself leaning slightly closer without meaning to.
The moment I spotted him, my mood darkened.
My father stood near the far side of the room, a glass of wine in hand, his expression as smug as ever. He hadn't mentioned he would be here, that was intentional and his presence set my teeth on edge.
He saw me immediately, his sly smile widening as he raised his glass in a mock toast.
"Who is that?" Olivia asked, following my gaze.
"No one you need to worry about," I said tersely, steering her toward him despite every instinct telling me to keep her far, far away.
When we reached him, his gaze shifted to Olivia, his eyes gleaming with something I did not like.
"And who is this vision of beauty?" he asked smoothly, his voice dripping with faux charm.
My blood boiled at the way he looked at her, the way his words carried a subtle undertone only I could catch. He wasn't complimenting her…he was taunting me, pushing buttons he knew would set me off.
"Olivia," I said, my tone sharp enough to cut. "This is my father, Christobal Garcia."
Her smile was polite, but I could see the flicker of unease in her eyes. "It is nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," he said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it.
I wanted to rip his hand away from her, to tell him to keep his filthy intentions to himself, but before I could act, someone called my name.
"Enrique."
I turned to see one of the key players in the organization approaching… the son of the head of the Galician mafia and I could not afford to ignore him.
"I will be back," I said to Olivia, my jaw tightening as I glanced at my father. "Stay here."
Leaving her with him was the last thing I wanted to do, but refusing to speak to the man now would raise questions I didn't want to answer.
From across the room, I watched them. My father was speaking to her, his hand resting lightly on her arm as they swayed to the music. She nodded at whatever he was saying, her smile forced but polite. I could tell she wanted to flee.
The man in front of me followed my gaze, a sly smile creeping across his lips. "She is lovely," he remarked.
I did not respond.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "When will you be acquiring the company?"
My stomach tightened. "Soon," I said carefully.
"Make it sooner," he said, his tone turning cold. "It would be a shame to watch her eyes close forever."
A chill ran down my spine at the subtle threat, and I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain calm.
"Of course" I nodded, grabbing a glass off the tray of some waiter and downing it.
The man kept his eyes on me and I did the same.
It was a power tussle and if I looked away right now, it would cement what he was thinking.
"It is nice to see that you have everything under control, Enrique. Your father was worried we were losing control over you. I will be sure to tell him that it is absolutely nothing in that sense"
He walked away, signaling to my father who planted another kiss on Olivia's knuckles before excusing himself.
I moved, reaching for her.
"Is everything alright?" She asked.
"Yes, why?" I grunted.
"It is nothing" She murmured.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and leaned forward.
"Dance with me"
She nodded and stepped in closer.
While we danced, I watched my father delighting in imagining him his face when I finally succeed in walking away from the life with Tomas.