doll.
Chapter Three
Demon petted Jacinta down from her furious, fast climax. His shirt was damp and he prayed she hadn’t cried, but a chicken-squawking side of him he hadn’t known existed refused to ask. Or check. What a wuss.
For the life of him, he could not will his fingers out of Jacinta. She turned him inside out. Man, had things gotten out of control. He just couldn’t seem to stick to a blasted plan with her. Another first.
The way she responded to him—not just the passion, but the trust—had him so overwhelmed and obsessed he couldn’t think straight. What the hell had that Sister Helen done? Throwing Jacinta into the big, bad, sadistic world after a lifetime in a cloistered convent? Every time he considered what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been at that beach at that exact moment…
Emilio was a dead man walking.
That Rosa Nunez had secreted her daughter in a cloistered convent to save her life made absolute sense to him. But he couldn’t wrap his mind around what life must have been like for Jacinta. She’d torn his guts out on the boat. That a twenty-year-old hadn’t tasted ice cream and had only just discovered music and apples, for shit’s sake. It boggled his mind. Not to mention the guilt assailing the conscience he didn’t know still existed somewhere in his long-dead soul. She was twenty, totally innocent, and he was thirty and tarnished to the core. He had no right to her, but damn, there was no way he’d let another man touch her.
She stirred.
Reluctantly he eased out of her and had to wrestle under control the overwhelming need to smell and taste her sweet juices before tugging her panties and dress back into place. His nose buried in Jacinta’s short hair, he heard a muted shuffle and glanced up to see Lucia standing in the doorway, wringing her hands. He jerked his head, and she slowly approached them.
Jacinta stiffened at the sound of Lucia’s sandals slapping the wooden floor.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s just Lucia. And don’t worry, she didn’t see or hear anything.”
“I am a wanton.” She sat up and covered her face.
Wanton ? His lips twitched. He hadn’t heard that word in forever. “No, kitten. You’re passionate, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Lucia’s just about here.”
“Oh.” Jacinta smoothed her skirt. Her olive complexion had colored a delectable rose hue.
“Señor Demon?”
“Everything was delicious, Lucia. Gracias.”
“Señor Fredo wishes to confer with you about the meal.” Lucia was under strict orders to leave them alone so Demon knew shit had happened, and he didn’t want Jacinta without protection for a second.
“Jacinta wants to know more about the appetizers, Lucia. Why don’t you fill her in while I speak with Fredo?” Demon returned Jacinta to her own seat.
“A pleasure, Señor Demon.”
He left right away and found Fredo in the kitchen seated at a small table, nursing a drink.
“What’s the score?”
“You have problems, amigo.” Fredo downed the amber liquid in the shot glass. “I have the information you wanted.”
Demon had spent their shopping time worming the names of those who’d been present on the beach from Jacinta. Too trusting for words, his little kitten, and he hadn’t a clue as to how to teach her to be suspicious.
“Emilio’s mother is the daughter of the governor of Amazonas, Rafael Vilas.”
Demon choked back a groan. What Pandora’s box had he opened when he rescued Jacinta? At one point, Rafael Vilas had been one of Pedro Nunez’s most trusted financial advisors. “Her name?”
“Elvira Genro.”
Crap . “Don’t tell me. She’s married to Jose Genro.”
“She is.”
Jose Genro, the governor of Roraima, was the biggest rival to Nunez’s operations. Jose had made no secret about his intent to steal Pedro’s empire and destroy the man along the way.
If Emilio and Jacinta were half siblings, then Jose had to be her father. According to the intel the
Chapter Three
Demon petted Jacinta down from her furious, fast climax. His shirt was damp and he prayed she hadn’t cried, but a chicken-squawking side of him he hadn’t known existed refused to ask. Or check. What a wuss.
For the life of him, he could not will his fingers out of Jacinta. She turned him inside out. Man, had things gotten out of control. He just couldn’t seem to stick to a blasted plan with her. Another first.
The way she responded to him—not just the passion, but the trust—had him so overwhelmed and obsessed he couldn’t think straight. What the hell had that Sister Helen done? Throwing Jacinta into the big, bad, sadistic world after a lifetime in a cloistered convent? Every time he considered what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been at that beach at that exact moment…
Emilio was a dead man walking.
That Rosa Nunez had secreted her daughter in a cloistered convent to save her life made absolute sense to him. But he couldn’t wrap his mind around what life must have been like for Jacinta. She’d torn his guts out on the boat. That a twenty-year-old hadn’t tasted ice cream and had only just discovered music and apples, for shit’s sake. It boggled his mind. Not to mention the guilt assailing the conscience he didn’t know still existed somewhere in his long-dead soul. She was twenty, totally innocent, and he was thirty and tarnished to the core. He had no right to her, but damn, there was no way he’d let another man touch her.
She stirred.
Reluctantly he eased out of her and had to wrestle under control the overwhelming need to smell and taste her sweet juices before tugging her panties and dress back into place. His nose buried in Jacinta’s short hair, he heard a muted shuffle and glanced up to see Lucia standing in the doorway, wringing her hands. He jerked his head, and she slowly approached them.
Jacinta stiffened at the sound of Lucia’s sandals slapping the wooden floor.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s just Lucia. And don’t worry, she didn’t see or hear anything.”
“I am a wanton.” She sat up and covered her face.
Wanton ? His lips twitched. He hadn’t heard that word in forever. “No, kitten. You’re passionate, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Lucia’s just about here.”
“Oh.” Jacinta smoothed her skirt. Her olive complexion had colored a delectable rose hue.
“Señor Demon?”
“Everything was delicious, Lucia. Gracias.”
“Señor Fredo wishes to confer with you about the meal.” Lucia was under strict orders to leave them alone so Demon knew shit had happened, and he didn’t want Jacinta without protection for a second.
“Jacinta wants to know more about the appetizers, Lucia. Why don’t you fill her in while I speak with Fredo?” Demon returned Jacinta to her own seat.
“A pleasure, Señor Demon.”
He left right away and found Fredo in the kitchen seated at a small table, nursing a drink.
“What’s the score?”
“You have problems, amigo.” Fredo downed the amber liquid in the shot glass. “I have the information you wanted.”
Demon had spent their shopping time worming the names of those who’d been present on the beach from Jacinta. Too trusting for words, his little kitten, and he hadn’t a clue as to how to teach her to be suspicious.
“Emilio’s mother is the daughter of the governor of Amazonas, Rafael Vilas.”
Demon choked back a groan. What Pandora’s box had he opened when he rescued Jacinta? At one point, Rafael Vilas had been one of Pedro Nunez’s most trusted financial advisors. “Her name?”
“Elvira Genro.”
Crap . “Don’t tell me. She’s married to Jose Genro.”
“She is.”
Jose Genro, the governor of Roraima, was the biggest rival to Nunez’s operations. Jose had made no secret about his intent to steal Pedro’s empire and destroy the man along the way.
If Emilio and Jacinta were half siblings, then Jose had to be her father. According to the intel the
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