6. Alfie

6

ALFIE

I can hear it in the breathy sound of her voice. I can see it in the way her beautiful blue-green eyes dilate. Mika wants me. Just like I want her. As I stop in front of her, each of my movements slow and careful to avoid spooking her or the filly she’s grooming, Mika’s cheeks flush with the unmistakable heat of attraction.

Her breaths come shorter, faster, as she peers up at me through thick, natural lashes the color of dark gold. Her reaction isn’t uncommon. Most women find me attractive. And it isn’t hard to guess what they want.

But my desire for this damn horsewoman is stronger than anything I’ve felt before, and today’s meeting confirmed that beyond a doubt. I want Mika. I want to wrap my hands around her little throat and ram my cock so deep inside her that my name is imprinted in her mind, body, and soul. Because while she might be responding to me physically like most women do, she’s not at all like any other woman I’ve ever met.

I like the fact that she’s brave enough to not like me. To disagree with what I say and be willing to butt heads over it. She’s willing to challenge me—to challenge everybody, even the men who run her world of horses, if that’s what it takes. She fights for what she believes in. And while that’s sexy as hell, it also makes me want to fill her pretty little mouth with my cum.

Even now, as she starts to tremble beneath my gaze, I can see that unquenchable flicker of defiance igniting in her eyes. Mika’s not just beautiful. She’s strong and daring and astonishingly capable of standing her ground.

And I doubt I’ll ever meet a woman quite like her again. That is what makes her so attractive, so agonizingly irresistible. She’s not at all scared to be herself. And the woman she is has me riveted.

I crave her so intensely that I’m ready to forget about the fiancée I have waiting for me back in New York City. The truth is, my bride-to-be no longer holds the same sense of anticipation and promise she did a week ago. But then again, she never held all that much interest for me. I’ve never even met the girl. The agreement was that I wouldn’t lay eyes on her until our wedding day. So how could she possibly hold a candle to Mika’s fiery beauty? Maybe I would feel differently if I knew her. But I doubt it.

She’s sure to be just like all the other Bratva princesses who are brought up to do as they’re told, and until now, I thought that would be enough. Our marriage is purely a business arrangement—an alliance between the Bonettis and the Kapranovs. It’s a good one. The Kapranovs are not only a wealthy and distinguished family with a good reputation—my fiancée’s father, Nikolai Kapranov, controls one of the most powerful Bratvas in the entire Eastern Seaboard.

I would be a fool not to recognize the benefits of my upcoming nuptials, regardless of the person my bride might be.

But with Mika standing before me, a soft flush darkening her tan cheeks, her sharp chin tilting up defiantly, I find it impossible to focus on what should be my priorities. She’s captivating, intoxicating. I don’t think my dick has ever been this hard by outright defiance before.

“You want to taste me?” she asks, fire flashing behind her eyes. “What exactly does that even mean?” She crosses her arms in that same defensive posture she adopted in her office, making it clear that she’s not going to easily let me in .

Removing the last bit of distance between us, I cage Mika between my arms, pressing my palms against the stall wall behind her, leaning in until we’re mere inches apart. My eyes flick down to her full, wide, kissable lips, and the urge to claim them is almost unbearable. But I resist the temptation, drawing out the moment between us, because the tension is so thick I can almost taste it. And it’s sinfully delicious.

Slowly, I force my eyes back up to hers. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you,” I murmur softly, holding her blue-green gaze with mine.

Before she can respond, I lean closer, savoring the jolt of anticipation that courses through me as her breath catches. I can feel the warmth of her skin, even before our lips touch, and my pulse throbs through my veins, making my cock swell and harden against the seam of my pants. I’m achingly hard, eager for the moment when I discover what her lips feel like against mine for the first time.

A palm slams against my chest, just over my heart. Mika pushes me back, demanding space between us. It’s not an aggressive shove, but it startles me out of the moment, rocking me backward as my cock throbs in protest.

Mika’s eyes narrow coldly as a sharp breath rushes past her lips, feathering across my face. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be your side chick in this equation, then, since you’re—you know—getting married ?” she hisses.

The sharp edge to her voice does little to hide her feelings on the matter. And it strikes me as amusing that she would find the concept so unappealing. Most women would be tripping over themselves for a chance to be with me, even if for just one night. Hell, I’ve had more than one offer for that exact arrangement since New York society found out that I would be marrying Ana Kapranov.

But Mika’s first response wasn’t to throw herself at my feet—like so many women have in the past. Nor was it her second. And I get the sense that she isn’t just playing hard to get either. This is a refusal to even consider playing my game .

But this isn’t a game to me. Not any longer. I’ve come close to tasting her, and I’m not going to be denied.

“You can be wherever you’d like in this equation,” I promise her darkly. “So long as you’re mine .”

Smiling unapologetically, I soak up the fire in her gaze, and it ignites something deep inside me. A yearning to know just how hot she blazes. To feel those flames when I unleash them from her body. A woman as fierce and untamable as Mika has to be dynamite in bed.

“As flattering as your offer might be, Mr. Bonetti,” she continues, her voice acerbic as her beautiful eyes spark with warning, “I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. Any kind of physical relationship between us would be completely unprofessional. And if I’m perfectly honest, I would rather drop dead than be with you.”

I’m momentarily taken aback. Unsurprisingly, her response only makes me want her more. I like a good chase, and Mika’s willful spirit is a thrilling challenge. Beyond that, something about the color that infuses her cheeks, the way her eyes drop momentarily to hide behind her thick golden-tipped lashes, says she’s not being completely honest with me.

Whether she wants to admit her desire to herself or not, she can’t fool me. I can see the way her body responds to me. Mika might not like that I have a fiancée, but it’s obvious she’s curious about what might have happened between us if she hadn’t pushed me away.

Filled with a brazen urge to prove what she’s unwilling to admit, I grasp her chin and tilt it upward until she’s forced to look at me. Electric energy crackles between us as my fingers touch her surprisingly soft skin. And when our eyes meet, I feel as though I’m looking into a deep, vast ocean, facing off with an emotion that could swallow me whole.

“If that’s what you want, it can be arranged,” I assure her softly.

“You wouldn’t,” she says calmly, her voice impressively convincing, though I detect the first flicker of fear behind her eyes.

“I’ve killed men for less. Try me and find out,” I challenge softly, leaning another inch closer.

Her eyes dart down to my lips—a swift movement so subtle I almost miss it. But I see the way her pulse flutters in the vein along her throat, and her tongue sweeps out to wet her lips. Deeply ingrained, primal signals, silent invitations her body’s giving me without meaning to—because she won’t say it out loud.

“Mr. Bonetti—” she murmurs, her voice hoarse with indecision. The heat in her eyes turns molten as her resistance softens into something more instinctive, driven by the desire that she doesn’t want to admit she feels.

A smug smile curls the corners of my mouth. I pause for the briefest of moments, savoring her silent surrender.

She releases a soft, sultry moan.

Then, her body tenses. Her lips freeze.

Her hand trapped between our chests flexes, her fingers splaying. And she shoves me back with impressive force as she breaks our kiss with a gasp. I allow it, taking a half step back, though every fiber of my being demands more. I want to fuck her, to possess her, to own her. I want to devour every inch. And I know now that she wants it, too.

My pulse spikes when I find her eyes bright with arousal, her cheeks flushed, her lips wet and ready. She’s a vision with her golden curls spilling chaotically from her bun, and it gives me the most tempting glimpse of what she might look like after a night of pleasure.

Mika’s breaths come in sharp gasps as she narrows her eyes at me with renewed fury. “I will not be anyone’s mistress,” she hisses. “Not even yours.”

Then, drawing herself up to her full height, Mika squares her shoulders and stalks past me without another word. I watch her go, my feet glued to the stall floor as I suck in a long breath. And now I know one thing for certain.

One way or another, Mika Harper will be mine.