Chapter 7

7

EMILIA

I glance at Javier in the bathroom mirror as I apply my lipstick. He enters the room with his phone to his ear, his eyes to me. They’re always on me. I can’t escape him if I try. And damn him, just over twenty-four hours into this new relationship with him, and my urge to escape is quickly disappearing.

He’s barely spoken to me this afternoon after forcing me to leave my office with him. He’s also barely let me out of his sight. I’m both frustrated and aroused. And confused as hell.

He finishes his call and moves behind me at the vanity, trailing his eyes down my body. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“I’m ready.” Physically, but not emotionally. There’s a lot riding on this dinner and I’m not convinced I’m well prepared for it.

“Good.” The tension lining his face eases a little.

As he turns to leave, I say, “I’m nervous about tonight.”

He stops and gives me his attention again. “Why?” His voice holds no trace of trepidation. Javier has always been so sure of himself and his place in the world. His confidence is one of the things I’ve always been attracted to.

“There’s a lot of bad blood between our families, Javier. My brothers. Your brothers. It’s a lot of uncertainty and I don’t love the fact so much of it has come to rest on my shoulders.”

“Our fathers want this to work, Emilia. I want this to work. The cartel needs it to. Our brothers will fall into line. All you have to do is go through with the marriage.”

I arch my brows. “You make it sound so simple when it’s far from that.”

“It’s not far from that,” he states, like this is a simple formula.

“How would you feel if the life you’ve spent over a decade building was suddenly challenged? If you had to change the way you live to help stop further bloodshed? I’m not sure you understand the weight I feel of all this.”

“You forget I’m marrying you too, dulzura. You aren’t the only one making sacrifices here.”

“Maybe not, but I’m the one with the loss of control. I’m the one who has to bow down to her husband.”

“You don’t know the meaning of bow down. Let’s not get carried away.”

“God, you are so fucking arrogant. I thought maybe we could attempt a useful conversation, but I see I was wrong.”

I push past him, but he wraps his hand around my wrist and yanks me back, flush against his body. His nostrils flare as he says, “Tonight is not the night to test me.” His arm comes around my waist and he grips me tighter. “You do not need to be nervous. I have everything under control. You just need to start trusting me.”

I stare up at him, every nerve ending in my body blazing with an intense and dangerous combination of want and hate. “You don’t make that easy.”

“It’s not my job to make things easier, Emilia. It’s my job to get things done. Eventually, you will fall into line too.” He lets me go and as he strides to the door, he orders, “You have a minute before we leave. I want those shoes changed. They’re not suitable for tonight.”

The asshole.

My heels are perfect for tonight.

They make me feel sexy and like I can take on the world.

I’m not changing them.

Carly: I know you’re at your family dinner, but I wanted you to know that Bob has signed the contract.

Me: That is the best news I’ve had all week.

Carly: How’s that man of yours? Still barking orders?

Javier leans into me, his scent wreaking havoc on my ability to function intelligently. “No work tonight, Emilia. I need your complete attention on our families.”

I exhale my annoyance as I place my phone down and look at him. “You have my attention where you want it, Javier, but let’s be honest, sitting here looking pretty and smiling for everyone is mind-numbingly boring. And it’s not really my attention anyone wants. It’s yours.”

“What they want,” he says, his voice laced with his own annoyance, “is to see us getting along. They want to be reassured our marriage will unite the families and the cartel. That is what I need from you.”

I place my hand on his thigh and smile sweetly at him. “And if I give you what you want, will you give me what I want?”

Dark eyes flash a warning at me. A warning I probably won’t heed. “I’ve already given you what you wanted tonight. Do not push me for more.”

“What? My shoes? You can’t be serious.” Javier was not impressed when I refused to change my heels. He didn’t hesitate to let me know just how unimpressed. I didn’t hesitate to let him know how little I cared. It did surprise me, though, that he didn’t forcibly remove them himself. A small victory for me.

“I told you they weren’t suitable. Your disobedience will not be forgotten.”

My eyes widen.

My disobedience ?

The man is insufferable.

Digging my fingers into his thigh, I say, “Why are they so unsuitable, darling?” I ignore the first spark of nerves in my stomach as I push him. But damn him, there is no way I’m going into this marriage having handed all my self-determination over.

There’s more of that dark warning in his eyes as he takes a swig of his whiskey. “Enough.” He slams his order down between us with the kind of low, quiet, but brutal force I know means he really has had enough. And since I know why he thinks my shoes are unsuitable—they’re far too high, strappy, and sexy for a family dinner—and since my goal was to push him to this point, I stop.

I remove my hand from his leg and reach for my wine. “Have you spoken with Mateo and Cruz?” I assume he has. My brothers arrived at the hotel late this afternoon, and I imagine Javier would have them at the top of his list of people to talk with before the wedding.

“That is none of your concern.”

I sip my wine. “You talk about me needing to trust you. That isn’t going to happen while you insist on keeping me in the dark over everything.”

“For a woman who grew up in our world, you don’t appear to have a good grasp on how it works.”

“Oh, I have a good grasp. I just don’t like it. Having said that, I’m not asking for you to share anything except whether you spoke with my brothers today.”

His chest rises as he takes a long, rough breath, and then falls as he says, “I spoke with them.” He throws the rest of his whiskey down his throat before pushing his chair back and standing. “Go and talk with them and your father. Show them how fucking happy you are.”

With that, he stalks away from me, his shoulders rock hard.

I chalk this conversation up to another small victory.

Javier might be an asshole, and he might have some control over me, but he doesn’t have all the control he’d prefer.

And that’s exactly how I’ll keep it.