Chapter 6

6

JAVIER

“ J oaquin can’t locate Perez,” Diego says early Friday morning when he and Lorenzo check in with me.

Fuck.

Joaquin’s my best lieutenant. If he can’t find Perez, no one fucking can.

“Send him more men,” I order. “I want him found today.”

Diego nods as my attention is drawn to Emilia who exits the bedroom. It’s just after six and I know she didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I know this because I didn’t either. Lying next to her all night proved more difficult than I imagined.

She eyes me with a glare before looking at my brothers. “Lorenzo. Diego,” she greets them before carrying on her way to the kitchen without waiting for them to respond.

“I see things are going well,” Lorenzo says.

“We’re on track,” I say, watching her until I can’t see her anymore.

“Good to hear,” Diego says, his features pinching with the serious expression that’s his trademark. My youngest brother carries the weight of the world in ways even I’ve not thought to. “Her brothers aren’t too fucking friendly over this Perez bullshit.”

I arch a brow questioningly.

“They’re threatening to take matters into their own hands if you don’t deal with it fast,” he elaborates.

Mateo and Cruz Sanchez have become headaches I want to eradicate once and for all. I can’t, though. It’d cause bigger problems within the cartel if I do.

“We need a meeting with them,” Lorenzo says, looking pained just to utter the words, let alone go through with it. He has less patience for Emilia’s brothers than I do.

I nod. “Set it up. This afternoon, before the dinner.” Our families are coming together for a dinner tonight ahead of the wedding tomorrow. I don’t ever look forward to any dinner, but even less so to this one.

We finish going over what needs to be taken care of today and they leave. I go in search of the woman who has taken over too many of my thoughts.

I find her in the kitchen talking with the chef I employed for the weekend. They’re discussing what Emilia would like for breakfast, and while she doesn’t look at me, the change in her body language and breathing tells me she’s more than aware of my presence.

It’s in the way her body slowly angles itself my way while her breaths quicken.

Emilia might be telling me she doesn’t want me, but she’s lying. I just need to figure out whether that’s a lie she believes or not. If, as I suspect, it isn’t, we’re on track like I told my brothers. On the other hand, if she does believe it, I have a hell of a lot more work ahead of me than I thought.

When the chef starts preparing her meal, Emilia makes a move to exit the kitchen. I allow her to slip past me without a word, but I follow her into the bedroom.

“I hope you don’t plan on ignoring me all day,” I say as she opens the closet.

She looks at me, her eyes filled with rebellion. “I plan on showering, dressing, eating my breakfast, and going into work. None of that requires a conversation with you.”

I close the distance between us. Gripping a handful of her hair and her waist, I pull her against me and growl, “I should bend you over and fuck you senseless for that.”

She sucks in a breath and my eyes fall to the rise of her chest. “You should take your hands off me is what you should do.”

Tightening my hold on her, I say, “If I thought for one second that you really wanted that, I would.” I pause. “You’re not going into work today. You can work from here.”

She jerks so forcefully that she manages to turn in my arms, her furious eyes coming to mine. “You can’t control me, Javier. Least of all when it comes to my work.”

“It isn’t my wish to control you, Emilia, except when it involves your safety. When it comes to that, I will enforce my directives however I need to.”

Her eyes widen. “Your directives ? Oh my God, no. I do not take orders from you!”

“You do when it comes to this.”

“Or what? You’ll handcuff me and keep me locked away?”

“You’re catching on fast.”

With a shake of her head, she turns back to the closet, yanks a dress out, and pushes past me to stalk into the bathroom. “Try handcuffing me. See how that works out,” she throws over her shoulder before slamming the door closed.

Jesus.

I rake my fingers through my hair.

This woman might be the fucking death of me.

Emilia doesn’t fight me on staying in the hotel to work. She sets herself up in the library of the penthouse and, after making it clear she’s not happy about the situation, buries herself in her work.

After stressing the importance of Emilia staying in the suite, I leave Bruno in charge of ensuring that happens and head out to meet with some of my men.

Just after lunch, I receive a call from him.

“Got a problem, boss,” he says. “I was called away to deal with something and Emilia convinced Johnny to drive her to her office.”

I work to control my anger, but it’s a waste of effort. “She’s at her office now?”

My tone is ice cold and Bruno doesn’t miss it. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Javier. And yeah, she’s at her office. I’m on my way there now, but I wanted you kept in the loop.”

“I’m ten minutes from her office. I’ll meet you there.”

I disconnect and tell my driver to make a detour.

Fucking hell, this is the last thing I have time for today.

Emilia’s office is in Midtown, not far from the hotel, on the 48 th floor. My patience is non-existent. By the time I step out on her floor, I’m more frustrated with her than I’ve ever been. Livid as well. Does she not fucking understand that when I say her safety is in question, I fucking mean it?

“Javier,” she says when I barge into her office without waiting for an invitation. Her assistant scurries after me, trying to stop me. Nothing and no one could stop me today.

“Leave us!” I bellow at her assistant who widens her eyes at me like she’s never seen anyone this angry.

She glances at Emilia for permission, but it’s more than obvious she’d rather be anywhere but in this office.

Emilia nods. “Close the door behind you, Carly.”

At the click of the door, I advance toward Emilia, my fury consuming me. “I thought I made it clear you weren’t to leave the hotel today.” The words breathe out of me like fire. Fuck, they feel like fire too. My lungs feel like they’re burning from the worry over her.

She swallows hard as she looks at me warily. It’s the first time she’s had the good fucking sense to do that. “Something came up and I needed to come in.”

I move closer to where she stands in front of the sofa near the floor-to-ceiling window that has a spectacular view over Manhattan. “You waited until Bruno was out of sight and then you talked your way into leaving with a man you knew you could twist around your finger.” I work my jaw as my eyes angrily search hers. “You’re playing with fire here, Emilia. Fire you do not want to be anywhere near.”

Her caution disappears and her fight returns as she erases any remaining space between us. Shoulders back defiantly, she says, “Yes, I waited for that opportunity, because something came up here that required my presence. You may not believe my work is important, but it is, and I won’t have you dictating when I can do it and when I can’t. Now, feel free to stand outside my office and protect me if you must, but I’m staying and getting done what I need to.”

I grasp her arms and yank her body to mine, still as furious as a moment ago. “I never said your work isn’t important. What I did say is that your safety is important. I’d really fucking appreciate it if you listened to me.”

“And I’d really fucking appreciate it if you’d tell me what’s going on!” She resists me, her hands coming madly to my chest as she attempts to battle me.

“Fuck,” I growl, backing her against the window and caging her in. “Stop fighting me, dulzura. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Well, you’re going about it in an odd fucking way.”

Christ, her fight is both infuriating me and turning me on.

I press myself against her, seeking the friction I crave, and bring my mouth to her ear. “I told you that you need to learn to trust me. How long is it going to take for you to do that?”

She desperately wants the friction too. I see it clearly in her eyes and feel it in the grind of her hips. The moan that falls from her mouth is enough to destroy every shred of self-control I’m clinging to.

“Fuck,” I rasp, my hands shoving her dress up as I drop to my knees and tear her panties off.

Emilia grips my hair and arches her back against the window when my tongue finds her clit. “Yes. Oh, God yes.”

I could lose myself in her cunt for hours.

Parting her with my thumbs, I push my tongue inside her.

I’ve thought of this moment for two years. I couldn’t get enough of her back then, and I know for fucking sure this won’t come close to being enough today. I want to bury my dick in her, but I won’t until she begs for that. And if I know Emilia well, those words aren’t going to come easily.

Pulling my hair, she holds my face against her, keeping my mouth on her. I eat her while swiping the pad of my thumb over her asshole, working the tip of it inside.

“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “Fuck.”

She comes, uttering words I barely make out while I continue working her ass and sucking and licking her.

When she tries to push me away, I growl, “No.”

“Oh, God, no,” she says, writhing against me. “I can’t….”

“You can,” I growl again, running my tongue through her wetness.

“Javier.” My name is a plea on her lips as her hands scrunch in my hair, gripping me tightly. And then she shatters again, this time harder, more completely. So fucking beautifully.

Her body sags and I swiftly lift her into my arms and place her on the sofa. Looking down at her, I ask, “How much longer will your work here take?”

She meets my gaze, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Twenty minutes probably.”

“You have half an hour.” With that, I exit her office and find Bruno. “I’ll be in the car. Bring her down in half an hour. And don’t fucking take no for an answer.”