ISABELLA

ISABELLA

Las Vegas, 17:25

This isn’t the fucking eighteenth century where you marry your daughter off against her damned will, I scoffed, glaring at the glass in front of me.

I loved my father but he was getting on my last nerve with all these talks about marriage.

He was yet to tell me why he would think I would want to marry the son of an old friend of his and how I would ever consider it a good idea.

I am going to show him by doing whatever the fuck I want, I thought to myself.

“Another glass” I called out to the bartender.

He smiled in my direction and moved, stopping with the bottle.

“May I know why a pretty girl such as yourself is drinking in broad daylight?”

“Pour me a drink and I might tell you” I smiled coyly, batting my lashes while I cringed inwardly.

He wasn’t bad looking with hair tied in a ponytail and arms flexing underneath his uniform.

He leaned forward while I resisted the urge to lean away from him and poured me the drink, smiling into my eyes.

“So?” He drawled.

“So, when do you get off work, Mr…”

“Just Sergio… nothing more” He laughed.

“When do you get off work, Sergio… we should totally hookup” I cringed at the sound of my voice while Sergio stared at me in surprise.

“I do not know your name” He reminded me

“Rachael” I lied.

Well, it wasn’t a lie. Rachael was my middle name but nobody called me that

“Well, Rachael… I get off work by 6pm and we can totally hook up” He murmured, reaching to touch my hand with the tip of his fingers.

I allowed him trail his fingers up my arm while I gritted my teeth in disgust.

“Quita tus manos de ella o me asegurare de que nunca las vuelvas a tener” A voice muttered from behind me.

The bartender… Diego took a step back, the fear evident on his face before he turned and fled.

I caught the all powering whiff of his perfume before he took a seat beside me.

“What did you say to him?” I blurted.

He did not turn to me, neither did he respond to my question.

“He was afraid of you” I continued, turning properly to him.

The breath caught in my lungs at the side profile of the man sitting beside me. He had to be about fifty years old and an absolutely stunning fifty years old.

His fingers drummed the bar and I could see the tic in his jaw going rapidly.

“What did you say to…”

“I told him that if he touched you again he might not have hands for the rest of his miserable days on earth” he interrupted, finally turning to me.

The harsh slap of the intensity of his gaze against the skin of my face was enough for any girl to want to disappear but I maintained my ground, folding my arms across my chest and staring him down.

“You had no right” I spat.

It was exactly like my father thinking he could tell me what to do and whom to marry. Now this man… this stranger was trying to control whom I spoke to.

“Rachael, is it?” He asked.

My eyes traveled down the impeccable suit he had on and the shine in his hair which was packed in a ponytail.

What the hell is with me and ponytails? I thought fleetingly

“Yes” I breathed, unable to control the crazy pull I was having to this man.

“I am having a party and if you are interested, I would like to apologize for ruining your date with an invitation” He declared.

I should not be interested, I told myself.

The sight of this man screamed dangerous and with the way Diego had reacted to him, I should also be running for the hills.

“What kind of party is it?” I asked instead.

“Oh, just some party” He responded vaguely.

“I will accept your apology, Mr…” I prompted

“Agosti” He supplied, his stern lips turning up in a smirk.

My heart jumped in my chest at the sight.

We left the bar together and he held the door of his car open for me while he rounded the corner right after muttering some address to the driver.

“So, tell me Rachael… why Las Vegas?”

He was close, much too close for comfort and I could feel all the nerve endings in my body reacting to his nearness… the thrill of the danger radiating from every movement of his body.

“How do you know I am not from around here?” I shot at him.

“Nobody is from around here, Gatita” He drawled, flexing an arm.

Gatita was Spanish for kitten, I thought.

I did not know much Spanish but I knew that at least.

“Kitten?” I inquired.

He smiled, just one tilt of his wicked lips.

“You know your Spanish… I am impressed” He murmured.

“Where are you from, Agosti and what are you doing in Las Vegas?” I challenged.

I hoped he did not think that he was the only one entitled to asking questions. I knew nothing about him except he was extremely dangerous and I was looking for danger at the moment.

“I am here mainly for pleasure, Rachael” He drawled.

The way he said my name… like it was some old wine he was sampling and found extremely exquisite.

“And have you found pleasure?” I breathed.

I knew I was taking his bait judging by the twinkle that had now entered his devilish eyes and when he leaned forward, I waited for him to say something… anything except look at me like I was the one thing he wanted in the whole wide world.

Or maybe I wanted him to look at me exactly like that.

“I just did as a matter of fact” He finally said, his hand rising to touch the nape of my neck and then trail my cheek.

“You, Rachael are my pleasure” He whispered, right before he kissed me.

No, he ravaged my lips… leaving unearthly feelings in their wake and a fire that only he, could quench.