Hearts Of Darkness (The Santiago Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “That man in the club… Rick Sanders. He said Emilio was still alive.”

  “He won’t get to you, my angel. I won’t let him. I have my army back. He gambled everything and lost. I’ve trebled your security in recent weeks. Half the men in Sanders’ club tonight were mine.”

  He sounds so confident and so sure of his methods to keep me safe. As a result I feel a gossamer-thin veil of contentment drifting over me. I’m secure. I’m in his arms. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. “You said you’d come back for me and here you are,” I say sleepily.

  He shifts his position and pulls me closer. “I always keep my promises to you, Eve.”

  “Are you back in Miami for a while?”

  He shakes his head. “I can only fly under the radar of the authorities for so long. My business here is done. We travel to Colombia tomorrow night to resume the hunt for my brother.”

  I can feel the edges of our future blurring again.

  “One day at a time, my angel,” he sighs, sensing my despair.

  “But it’ll be another day without you.” I clamber astride him, cupping his jaw in my hands and marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. “Now that you’ve returned to me I don’t want to let you go.”

  “Always hunting. Always the hunted.” He looks exhausted suddenly. “It’s my penance for a life without morality.”

  I consider his words. Perhaps there are some evils in this world that can never be atoned for?

  I don’t believe this about him, though.

  I have to trust in the light that I’ve sensed in him. He was a good man once. I have to believe that my betrayal of my brother will count for something.

  “You can’t fix me, my angel,” he says softly, reading my mind again. “You can never undo the things I’ve done.”

  “I have to try.”

  He stares at me and I sense a part of him is desperately seeking validation in what I’ve said.

  “Don’t overthink us so much,” I tease, echoing his own words back to him, lifting my hands to run my fingers through his silky, black hair.

  He closes his eyes briefly, reveling in my touch, before he bucks his hips and pitches me forward into the solid wall of muscle stretching from his chest to his abdomen. “Smart ass,” he growls and I feel his arms closing in around me again.

  “So, you’re wicked and depraved and you have really, really bad interior design skills,” I sigh, glancing around the room. “I bet you only screwed me over the sofa because you forgot to buy a bed.”

  “Oh, there’s a bed, my angel,” he says, his voice suddenly husky with lust. “You’ll find out all about that later on.”

  “Why later? Why not now?”

  He lifts his eyebrows at me. “Insatiable, are we?”

  “Insatiable for you only, Dante… Santiago.”

  He kisses me then, crashing his lips against mine with a kiss so passionate and intense it draws tears to my eyes. “When Emilio is dead, mi alma, I will buy you a thousand mansions to decorate to your heart’s desire,” he declares fiercely.

  “Don’t say that,” I whisper. “That’s our one condition, Dante, we never discuss the future. It’s too ambiguous. We have no way of knowing what it holds in store for us.”

  “Can a man not dream a little? Or am I too far gone for that?”

  Only time will tell, my devil.

  “Do you really hate my dress that much?”

  His expression darkens. “Yes.” And before I can stop him he’s dragged the zipper down and ripped it over my head. “There… much better. And don’t change the subject.”

  I look down at my bare breasts, still glistening with beads of sweat. “Ok,” I shrug. “I’ll just wear panties and high heels next time I go clubbing.”

  A low growl escapes his lips as he slides his palms beneath my ass cheeks and rises to his feet, lifting me effortlessly with him. He throws me onto the couch and stands there, looking down at me, as he refastens his zipper. “You can’t be trusted with clothing choices anymore, Eve. From tomorrow you’ll wear exactly what I tell you to. You don’t have a choice, young lady.”

  “Never,” I grin, unhooking my black stilettos and chucking them at him, one at a time.

  He ducks easily. “Is that another flash of defiance, my angel?”

  “It depends… are we alone in this house?”

  He frowns. “Of course. If any man so much as dares to come through that door…” I watch his face contort with fury at the thought of someone other than him seeing me naked. “Now, back to your insubordination… Would you prefer your next punishment here or upstairs?”

  “Either sounds fun but you’ll have to catch me first.” As I say it I push myself off the couch and sprint for the hallway, catching him off guard. Cursing, he tries to catch my arm as I pass but I swerve out of the way just in time.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “To seek out this mythical bed of yours!” I say, taking the smooth marble steps, two – three at a time, slapping my hands across my naked breasts to stop them bouncing all over the place. I almost make it to the top before a strong arm is sliding around my waist and lifting me high up into the air.

  “I see your shoulder’s better,” I gasp as he folds me into him embrace and carries me like this to his bedroom.

  “No thanks to you,” he snarls, chucking me into the middle of an enormous king size bed. He arches his eyebrows at me as if to say, “see? I wasn’t lying after all.”

  Rising to my knees, I hook my thumbs seductively into the waistband of my panties. “Tell me what you desire tonight, Señor Santiago…” I never would have dreamed of taunting a man like this in the past. My lust for him is turning me into some sort of demon sex goddess.

  “All of you,” he growls, ripping off his waistcoat and tie and shredding buttons in his haste to undress. “You tits, your cunt, your ass… I’m demanding everything and you will give it to me.”

  I pause my striptease to rake my eyes across his upper torso. Tonight he’s part-devil, part-deity, from his muscular shoulders to the crude definition rippling across his abdomen. I want to run my tongue over every dip and arc and scar. He catches me staring at him.

  “Do you like what you see, my angel?”

  “No it’s exhausting,” I say wickedly. “I hate to think how much work you put in to have a body like that.”

  He smirks and lowers his trousers. No underwear. Hard as stone, like always. Hard just for me.

  “Take off your panties real slow for me,” he orders, moving closer to the bed.

  I do as I’m instructed, delighting in the growing hunger in his face as I slide the scrap of black lace further down my legs before tossing them in his direction.

  He beckons me closer with one crooked finger. “It would appear that my angel has a devil inside of her after all.”

  “Sooner rather than later I hope.”

  He laughs.

  I’m mesmerized.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  I watch as he binds my wrists with my discarded panties and pulls the knot tight.

  “Which version of me would you like this evening,” he croons, trailing an agonizingly slow finger down the centre of my body and through my soft folds before sliding it inside of me. “The devil or the monster?”

  “Neither,” I groan, tipping my head back and widening my thighs to accept more of him. “Tonight I just want you.”

  28

  Dante

  Just before dawn I slip from her arms. I don’t sleep much these days. Since Colombia I see shadows and movement in every dark corner. These past four hours wrapped around Eve’s luscious body have been the longest and deepest I’ve slept in months.

  Once I’m showered and dressed I make my way downstairs. As I do I muse on how much I hated this house until approximately ten hours ago, when she bought back her grace and spark into my life and made everything light again. Material possessions have never held any interest with
me. Like most things in life they’re to be used and discarded. It’s this mindset that made it so easy for me to slide into obscurity fifteen years ago. Emilio found it harder. He never shared the same discipline.

  I find Joseph in the kitchen standing by the counter and hunched over his laptop. “It’s 4am. Don’t you sleep anymore?” he grumbles, not bothering to look up.

  “Don’t you?” I shoot back, heading for the coffee machine.

  “I never sleep.”

  We don’t deserve to. Not after the cull we’ve orchestrated recently. The last six weeks have been tainted with a breathtaking violence, the likes of which we’ve never known before. When I look down I don’t see my hands anymore. Instead, I see weapons of death. My head is filled with the screams of our victims.

  Without Eve to temper me my bloodlust ran unchecked. We hunted down and executed all of Emilio’s co-conspirators. Yesterday, right before I visited Sanders’ club, I held a gun to my treacherous cousin’s head and pulled the trigger. This was only after I’d extracted Emilio’s last known whereabouts during a protracted five hours. We took grim pleasure in our work. Nicolas was the one who gave the order to execute every single man I sent to America. What I did yesterday was done in their name and in their honor.

  “What’s the name of that horse dealer in Montana?” I murmur, picking up my iPad and skimming through my emails. There’s another one from the PI team in Colombia. Still no news. This girl is proving as elusive as my brother. Fifteen years I’ve been searching for her and still nothing. Not even a glimpse.

  “What’s wrong with a bunch of flowers?”

  “Just find me the damn number,” I say, ignoring the jibe. “How are those new coordinates checking out?” I’m referring to the Intel we extracted from my pleading, dying cousin yesterday.

  “Tomas has a team of men on the ground right now. Looks like we just missed him. We need to get over there and flush him out ourselves. He’s running out of places to hide.”

  You screwed up big brother. The gamble never came to fruition, did it? Not even close. Did you really think you’d win this war against me? We’ve executed your allies. Your business is destroyed. Those four walls are closing in on you...

  “Who’s the blonde?” asks Joseph interrupting my reverie.

  “Which blonde?” I frown.

  “The one in the club with Eve. I saw you talking by the entrance.”

  I don’t see other women I only have eyes for my angel. I do read her daily security reports, though. “Some friend of hers… Anna I believe.”

  “Pretty name.”

  I glance up from the coffee machine in mild surprise. I’ve never heard Joseph take an interest in a woman before. “I thought brunettes were more your thing?”

  “I’ll take a blonde with a body like that.”

  “Why is everything so fucking monochrome in this house,” I grumble, switching my attention to the black tiles above his head. Eve’s right, the décor in here is shit.

  “Hire a decorator then.”

  Jesus, could he sound any more apathetic if he tried?

  “Quit goading me. This time tomorrow we’ll be gone. I want it on the market by next week. I have no further use for this property.”

  The renovations for my new island are nearly complete. I’ve had a team of hundreds working round the clock. It’s costing me millions but it’s billions that I have. The place will be fully operational in the next fortnight and then Eve can decorate away to her heart’s content. She doesn’t know my plans for her yet but she will do soon. Once Emilio’s six feet in the ground I’ll be back for my angel and nothing will ever part us again.

  Change is afoot for all of us. Cartel warfare holds no interest for me anymore, we don’t need that kind of money. We kill for the thrill so my team and I are branching out. Eve’s initial assumptions about me may have proved somewhat of a premonition because we’re mercenaries now. Skilled guns for hire. These past six weeks have been as much about planning for the future as it has about revenge.

  I scan my emails again. There’s one from Sanders.

  “Rick’s happy with the terms. The deal’s as good as done.”

  “I imagine he was. You just handed him a business with a twenty billion dollar turnover.” Joseph fixes me with his pale grey eyes. “Any regrets?”

  “Easiest decision I ever made.”

  That, and abducting an angel from a downtown liquor store.

  Sanders came through for me. His stellar connections have resurrected my decimated army and restocked my arsenal. In return for his loyalty I’ve gifted him all US Santiago territories. It’s his business now. He can fend off the vultures for himself. As for me, I’m rising up from the burning ashes of my family’s name. I’m here for whoever wants to hire my bullets. I’ll take no sides in wars or conflicts.

  I pour my coffee and scowl at the dishes piling up in the sink. “We need a maid for the island. Contact Sofía. She’s back in Colombia with her family… And stay the fuck away from that girl, Anna. She’s not available.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I mean it, Joseph.”

  “And when the hell has that ever stopped you?” There’s an icy coolness to his gaze that would put the frighteners in anyone other than me.

  “Manuel,” I state grimly. “He’s a good bodyguard. Eve trusts him. Anna fancies him. Don’t fuck it up.”

  I grab my coffee and head back upstairs. I love to watch Eve sleep. She’s so peaceful. So childlike… I settle in the armchair by the bed and take a sip. She stirs, reaching out for me with one hand and then furrowing her brow when she senses I’m not lying next to her anymore.

  She wants me even in her dreams.

  She turns to face me and a lock of dark silk spills over her cheek as she does. I fight the urge to smooth it away. Since our reunion yesterday I can’t stop touching her. Last night we fucked and fucked until she begged me to stop. This woman is my obsession, my drug. Her sweetness is the only life source I need. I know it’s wrong, I don’t deserve her, but like Joseph said, when the hell has that ever stopped me? Could she ever love this cold-hearted killer? My mind won’t allow me to think the unthinkable, I’ll force her to if needs be. I took this woman hostage. I can steal her heart as well.

  “Dante?” Her soft voice calls out to me and I swear to god I’m smiling just from the sound of it.

  “I’m right here.”

  “Come back to bed.”

  I put my coffee down on the nightstand and remove my t-shirt in one fluid movement. My jeans are next. I’m hard already. “As you wish, my angel,” I say, sliding back into bed with her and wrapping my warmth around her slender frame. I press my erection against the curve of her ass cheeks and try to get a handle on my lust. Eve is exhausted. I’ll let her sleep for another hour and then I’ll satisfy us both all over again.

  One more hurdle, I think to myself as I snake my arm around her waist. One more bloody scalp… One more retribution killing and then I’ll lose myself in this body forever.

  “No way, Dante. No way! These are Bal Harbour shops!”

  Eve’s delicate pale skin is flushed with color and her pale blue eyes are glinting sapphires. She looks so damn fuckable I can barely contain myself. Too bad we’re sat in the confined space of an SUV with two other men.

  “Did you know about this?” she yells, turning to Joseph in the driver’s seat. Next to him Tomas is trying not to crack up. I kick the back of his seat with my foot and he straightens his face immediately.

  “Certainly not, Miss Miller,” Joseph deadpans. No one can outlast an interrogation longer than him but he hasn’t faced my raging angel before.

  “Oh don’t ‘Miss Miller’ me. If you’re gonna lie to my face I’d prefer it if you called me Eve!”

  Joseph catches my eye in the mirror. Goddammit, even he’s trying not to laugh. This woman is bringing us all to our knees. “Just get out of the car Eve,” I snap, leaning across her to open her door with a violent shove. My cock jerks as m
y arm brushes against the side of her breast. They better have decent sized changing cubicles in these dress shops.

  “Uh-uh. No way. No man, not even you, tells me what to wear. Not anymore.”

  “Who says you have a choice?” I say mildly.

  “Me!” she cries, slapping her chest with her hand. Jesus, she should be in the movies. “You may have charmed my body, Santiago, but my freewill is not so easily seduced.”

  Charmed her body? That’s an interesting turn of phrase. More like fucked it into next century… I’m feeling a little exhausted myself right now.

  Exiting the car, I glance at the exclusive row of shops in front of me. This whole place reeks of money. It’s perfect for my angel. Leaning back inside the vehicle, I grab her wrist and manage to coax her out onto the pavement.

  “I don’t want to go shopping, Dante!”

  A woman who doesn’t want to go shopping? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life. I contemplate tipping her over my shoulder and carrying her into the damn shops but she’s still wearing that far-too-short silver monstrosity from last night, even though I insisted she wear one of my white t-shirts over the top.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  She’s standing there glaring at me, my fingers still wrapped like a cuff around her slim wrist. If she could chuck me under a passing bus right now she probably would.

  “A compromise then,” I say, yanking her closer and placing my other hand on the hollow of her back, locking her against me, breathing in traces of citrus from her shampoo that does absolutely nothing to ease my aching erection. “Why don’t we choose your new wardrobe together?”

  “You’re still not hearing me,” she hisses, her body as rigid in my arms as my dick is in my pants. “You keep telling me I’m not your whore and then you go all Pretty Woman on me.” She struggles to free herself from the prison cell of my embrace. “I don’t want your money. I will never want your money.”