Didn't You Promise (A Bad for You Novel) (2 page)

Chapter Two

The fingers cupping the back of my neck flexed, and a rush of breath kissed my lips.

“You know I almost believed you that time.” His thick lashes drooped. “One more time. Who are you?”

My chest constricted. “I’m your wife.”

“That’s right, you’re my wife,” he said, no hint of a lie to taint his words.

He didn’t need to roll the statement around to test it the way I’d had to. He spoke as though he believed it.

As though it were true.

Made me think that to him, he and I and this fantasy of a future were simply a matter of time. Almost made me forget that this was only one scenario, and only one of Haithem’s plans for us. Few were so sweet, and not all resulted in us together through all of this.

“Let’s go over things one more time.”

My fingers twitched against his T-shirt. “I thought we were in a rush?”

“We can spare time to make sure.”

“I remember everything we talked about.”

His teeth flashed in that dangerous smile. “Could you remember under pressure?” His hand slipped from my neck and ran down my shoulder, skimmed my breast and gripped the thin belt at my waist. “Because if you need to repeat anything we’ve been through, you can bet you’ll be under pressure.”

Heat curled through my system. “One more time then.” Short breaths, almost pants, puffed between my lips. “And be sure to exert some
pressure
.”

His free hand reached for the intercom, but his eyes stayed on me when he spoke into the receiver.

I leaned my head against the wall.

He hung up. “Five minutes, Angelina.”

I nodded, anticipation tingling my nerves.

His hand drifted from my waist and settled at the back of my thigh. “When were we married?”

“Four days ago,” I answered quickly.

He made a tisking sound and grabbed my ass cheek. “The date.”

“The fourteenth of February.” I repeated the words I knew by heart, trying to control the way the bite of his fingers on my backside sent my cardiac system into double time.

Breathe
,
think
,
talk.

I would master all three with Haithem touching me.

“Valentine’s Day...” His hand slid between my thighs from behind, brushing over lace. “A little cliché, don’t you think?”

I made a sound half laugh—half hum, as blood rushed to my pelvic region.

He’d picked the date.

I shrugged. “My husband is romantic.”

He rolled his hips against me. The solid bulge contained in his jeans dug into my stomach. My abdominals clenched.

He liked me calling him husband.

“Where were we married?”

“The Maldives. This beautiful little island—”

He pulled my panties to one side, his knuckles curled in the apex of my thighs.

The name of the resort got lost on the rush of my breath.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now what’s
my
name?”

I opened my lips, wanting nothing more than to say
his
name—to plead his name. Instead I said another name.

“Vassilis Kyriakou.”

He ran his palm over my ass, then slid his fingers between my thighs. “Now pronounce our last name correctly.”

Oh
,
Jesus.

Had I dropped a syllable again? He’d warned me about that.

I licked my lips, and took an unsteady breath. “Kee-ree-AH-koo.”

A long finger plunged through my wetness, pushing deep.

My forehead dropped against his chest, and I gripped his biceps. He pushed harder and higher inside me. Pleasure streaked through my middle.

“Why are we visiting India?”

My breath waivered in my bliss filled lungs. “Our honeymoon.”

“What are you most looking forward to seeing while in India?”

Damn stupid little details.

He rocked inside me. It shouldn’t feel so good, just a finger. But Haithem had an advantage over other men. He was big
everywhere
. His fingers were sexual weapons all on their own. The bastard used them to destroy me.

“My husband’s cock.”

His finger left me, and his palm cracked on my ass just hard enough to send a vibration into my core. I groaned and pushed back off him.

“Good answer,” he said, the wickedness of his smile reaching his eyes. “But not the right one.” He grabbed the hem of my dress and lifted, then tucked it into the belt at my waist. “Where are we traveling to next?”

“Cyprus.”

He pushed my panties down my hips. They fell to my ankles.

“Why?”

I leaned my shoulders against the wall, my hips pushed forward. He ran his middle finger over my sex, gliding back and forth over that nub. The tension in my womb sharpened.

“Why?” he repeated.

“Because that’s where you’re from.”

He pushed two fingers inside me. I moaned, the fullness driving breath out of my lungs, and sharp ecstatic sensations through me.

He leaned closer. “What are the languages spoken in Cyprus?”

I watched his lips speak, blood pounding in my ears. He moved his fingers in my pussy, his palm butting against my clit.

The muscles in my thighs tightened, pleasure pulsing in every one of my cells.

Dark brown hair fell across my eyes.

He brushed the bangs from my face, and moved the hand between my legs faster. “Nearly there...”

A high sound broke from my lips, and I forced out words. “Greek—Turkish—English.”

His fingers battered against that place inside me and my muscles tightened from my ankles to my neck.

“Which do I speak?”

I panted, my jaw stiff. “Greek. English.”

He grabbed my hip, stroking firmly and purposely between my legs. Ecstasy exploded over me. My teeth pressed together. I bucked, gripping his arms. He didn’t stop, kept those movements going, forcing fresh waves of delight through me. I sagged against his chest, holding onto him until his touch grew soft.

He withdrew his fingers but ran his hand delicately back and forth over me. My breaths slowed. I turned my face into his T-shirt inhaling the scent of Haithem and the hint of laundry soap. He kissed my forehead, his lips branding against my skin.

I cleared my throat. “So, do I get a prize?”

His laugh rumbled through his chest against my cheek. “What do you call this?” He cupped me.

I leaned back, looked up at him then cupped him in return, palming the bulge challenging his zipper. “I want the grand prize.”

He covered my hand and ground his hips against my touch. Heat traveled from my face all the way into my fingertips.

So big
,
so hard.

I knew exactly what this incredible piece of flesh could do to mine.

“But there’s still so much I need from you first.”

Damn him, I knew he’d make me wait.

* * *

It was entirely possible that it took less than an hour in India for culture shock to set in. I gripped the car door with one hand and my seatbelt with the other as Emilio slammed on the brakes. Maybe it was culture shock making my head spin, or maybe it was the way my life just flashed before my eyes.

Screw whoever might be after us—the roads in Chennai would be the death of us.

I glanced at Haithem, hands resting in his lap, steady and alert, unmoving even as my head bobbed.

The car rolled forward again.

Despite the blaring air conditioner, inside the car still stifled. Not sure if it was the borrowed car smell—a medley of lingering other people scents, and all that had been done to attempt to sterilize the odor to neutral—or the way the front seats hit Haithem’s knees and boxed us in. The street closed around us. The closer we got to where we were going the more it became like pushing a toy sailboat through a bucket of fish.

He stared into the street, then moved his gaze to mine. “Ready?”

My hammering heart slowed.

Ready
?

To attempt to smuggle the energy cell prototype in Haithem’s pocket to a secret manufacturing facility in India, all while avoiding the umpteen-billion mercenaries who’d love nothing more than to see us dead before we could damage the richest industry in the world?

Not so much.

Not
ready
, but I was prepared. Prepared—and capable. That much I knew. I wouldn’t slow him down. Assuming I went unrecognized, traveling together as a honeymooning couple might actually help him. I’d memorized everything I needed to—every contingency, alias, Haithem’s emergency cell number, even Emilio’s and Karim’s if things went bad...

“Yes.”

Until now it’d almost felt too easy. A speedboat off the yacht and we’d bypassed customs and immigration altogether. But now with the city growing thicker around us there could be no illusion that we’d be able to continue to slip as silently and unseen into this country.

The car slowed. I undid my seatbelt and pulled the strap of the travel bag over my shoulder. Haithem held the door handle. The car rolled to a stop. People crossed the street in front of us. Haithem glanced at me. I took his hand.

He squeezed my fingers, then opened the door. We slid from the car into the crowd. My palm glided against his, going from warm to slick almost instantly as my air-conditioned skin met the muggy climate.

We reached the sidewalk.

I didn’t look back.

Didn’t glance at the car driving away, leaving us alone in a swarm of strangers. Didn’t look back to see who might be watching. Instead, I took in everything around us, somehow not digesting any of it. Not how different everything looked, not how strange the air tasted on my tongue, not the amplified sounds of the street compared to home.

We walked briskly, eventually turning one corner, then another. We rounded so many corners I had no idea how Haithem kept track or how the hell he knew where we were going. Like a labyrinth, everything blended together. The stores, then even the people passing us too. My feet throbbed, the leather straps of my sensible sandals no longer sensible enough. We paused in a street.

Haithem tugged me into an alcove off a shopping strip. He pulled his phone from his back pocket, looked at the screen then scanned the buildings across from us.

I adjusted my hand in Haithem’s, every set of eyes that passed us seeming to land on me like the thump of a hammer.

“There,” he said, gesturing across the street to an electrical repair shop, half the red lettering on the sign worn indecipherable. The store was no different from any other building we’d passed. We crossed the street and went inside. Secondhand appliances, microwaves and old analog televisions lined the shelves. We approached the sales counter. Haithem didn’t say anything, instead leading me behind the counter to the door at the back of the store. The sales attendant glanced up, then went back to watching a television. Haithem released my hand, to sweep a beaded curtain to the side. I stepped through. The curtain closed with a jingle behind us. We followed the hallway past storerooms to a door that opened into an alley.

The scent of garbage and other indeterminable things washed over us. I tasted bitterness on the roof of my mouth. Haithem paused, glancing down the alley, then led us left. We stopped in front of a silver door.

He pressed a button on the wall.

Ha, look at that—now my spine tingled. Shiny, indestructible silver door with an equally shiny button hidden amongst filth and decay.

We waited.

The door opened. My chest hitched. A man almost as tall as Haithem, skin a rich tan against a white shirt, stood in the doorway.

“You’re late.”

Haithem smiled. “Isn’t that usually your trick, Avner?”

The man smirked and ushered us inside. The door clicked shut with a heavy metallic thunk. Avner shook Haithem’s hand and grasped his other arm. “It’s been too long.”

Haithem nodded then turned to me. “Angelina, this is my friend from college, Avner.”

Haithem
,
a
friend?

He had employees, colleagues, friends not so much. And I knew his stance on friendship. I looked at Avner. He wore the kind of suits Haithem wore, the kind that fitted too well, the kind that were made for the men who wore them. Not what you’d expect to find on the other side of a door in a dirty alley.

“It’s a pleasure,” Avner said, and took my hand, his gaze skating over my features.

He knows who I am.

Haithem had introduced me by name.

I glanced from Avner to Haithem. “I didn’t realize we were visiting an old friend.”

“If only there were time for a social visit,” Avner said, releasing my hand. “Let’s make our way downstairs. Everything is ready.”

He led us down the hallway to an elevator. Avner pulled a key from his pocket, slid it into a small round hole on the control panel inside the elevator and turned it, then pressed the basement one and basement two buttons at the same time.

I frowned for a moment, then my eyes widened.

No
,
way...

The elevator moved, then shuddered to a stop and the doors opened to an open plan level. Blue tinged light filled the room. Computer screens lined one wall, and tables with electronics and tools took up the remainder of the space.

A
secret floor.

“How very
Men in Black
...” I said, walking into the center of the room. “What do you do here?”

“Just think of this place as lost and found.” Avner walked in front of a screen, and hit a few keys on a keyboard. “Want to find something?” He looked up at a screen on the wall. An aerial shot of a city street filled the screen, then zoomed in on the crowd. “Consider it found.”

The screen zoomed in on a person. It took me a moment to recognize her, what with the hair. Then she glanced up.

Me.

Me crossing the street and walking into the electrical repair shop, Haithem a shadow at my side. My skin prickled. “Neat, trick. Could you do that if you weren’t expecting us?”

“That all depends on how badly someone wanted you found.”

I shuddered. It was a good thing Avner was Haithem’s friend, and on
our
side.

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