Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,43

outdoors. He was rough in the most exquisitely pleasing ways...in ways I never knew I wanted from a man. And he let me tear into him with the same amount of grit. We didn’t hold back.

But the third day had a different sort of cloud over it. I would be home by the next morning, and we would never know each other in this way again. For as happy as I was to return to my father, something about parting ways with Alberto made my stomach turn with a sick uneasiness. It was strange to feel that way about leaving him, when just looking at him used to inspire the same feeling.

I didn’t think it was a mistake that we stopped earlier than usual to make camp. We were getting closer to my town, and it was almost like Alberto wanted to keep a distance between us and my home on the final night. Maybe he didn’t think he could make love to me in the same way if we were too close to my father’s house.

Setting up camp early afforded us the chance to watch the sunset together. We did so over the fire while we ate fish for dinner. We were both quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. I was lost in my own thoughts about what all of this meant...about what he meant to me. I could only guess if he was just as unsettled as I was about us parting ways. He stayed strong and silent, not giving a single hint to how he really felt. I was finding it hard to swallow as I studied him and wondered...would I miss him?

“What are you thinking about?” I asked finally, needing a break from the confusion swirling around my brain.

He took a long time to answer as he watched the last of the sun vanish over the horizon. “I guess I was thinking...that I’m sure you’ll be happy to be home.”

I swore I detected a tinge of pain in his voice. His face tightened as he said it, and his throat seemed to close up on the words. His stoicism irritated me. All I could do was lean back and reply, “Yes.” I kept it cold and short, just as he was behaving towards me.

As the darkness fell, Alberto kept staring off into the black canyons around us. He seemed to be looking at something specific but well hidden in the night.

“There’s a cave just over there beyond that ridge,” he explained finally. “There’s a famous story about a couple that went across the country robbing banks together. They got carried away and knew they were probably going to get gunned down on their next job. They hid out there for the night, knowing it was their final night alive...their last night together. So now some people call it the rebel lover’s cave.”

He smirked as he told the story, and I could tell the idea of it made him happy. It was a relief to see him happy about anything besides making biting remarks to me or the sight of my naked body.

“We’re not so different from them I suppose,” I quipped, staring off in the same direction as him. I thought maybe if I looked long enough I could see the cave for myself. “We have been pretty rebellious. The villain and the detective’s daughter falling into bed together.”

“I could see you robbing banks by my side in another lifetime,” he smirked.

“We would never be able to agree about what to do with the money. You’d want to keep it all for yourself, and I’d insist we give it to the poor.”

“Not for myself, but for us,” he argued. “You’d think differently when you saw the kind of jewelry and furs I could buy you with that stolen money.”

I laughed, knowing I was not the type to fall for such frivolous luxuries. But then again, I also never thought I’d be the type to sleep with Alberto or feel so drawn to his power. Even his machismo airs had a way of turning me on.

“I couldn’t sleep at night knowing I was hoarding so much for myself while there are starving children in our country.”

He didn’t mock me the way he usually would. Instead, he replied, “Well, I have a feeling you could talk me into a lot of things that didn’t make sense to me. Even giving money away to people who had done nothing to earn it.”

I rolled my eyes at him, not