Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,48

red lips. I could admit to that much...the way I longed for her body. I knew no woman at the brothel would compare to her or the feeling of laying her down. I knew it because every woman I had ever been with paled in comparison. Maybe I was forever ruined. It pained me to look into her dark, glinting eyes and those swollen lips, knowing I would never have her in the same way again.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

I couldn’t say I was glad I did it. Part of me wanted to snatch her up and hold her down as I galloped like hell back to one of my properties. I could spoil her with the finest clothes and jewelry and wines until she admitted living the modest, moral life wasn’t so great after all.

Since there was no right thing to say or do, I crashed my lips against hers, gripping her body tight. I was still never entirely certain if she’d give into me any time I kissed her. It was hard to know when we walked such a fine line between hatred and desire. But she melted into me just as she had done before, not seeming to care that I had been so grumpy all morning. I guess it was what she expected of me.

I kissed her until the longing and ache inside of me swelled so greatly that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ripped my mouth away from hers and briskly turned to get back on my horse. She watched me with a pained expression before finally grabbing her horse’s lead and turning to approach the small metal gate.

I planned to watch until I saw she was half way down the driveway so I’d know she was safe, but she stopped as she lifted the latch and looked back at me. I knew she was either gathering up the strength to say something, or was waiting for me to start talking. I didn’t want either of us to say anything, and watching her walk away was harder than I thought it would be. It seemed neither of us would budge if I stayed there like that, so I was left with no choice but to ride back to my men...leaving her behind.

“That’s one feisty broad,” one of them noted as I returned.

“Just shut up and ride,” I barked, blazing up ahead of them all.

I stayed alone at Pablo’s that night, not wanting to have another woman next to me but also not wanting to go back on my promise to the men. While the sounds of other men’s pleasures echoed through the walls of the brothel, I laid alone in the room I rented for the night and thought about Alicia curled up safe and sound at home...where she belonged. I had to say it to myself over and over again. She belonged at home with her father...Not with me.

16

Alicia

I don’t know what I expected from Alberto when he dropped me off. It was hard to ever know what to expect from him. At night when we were alone, he could be so tender and loving. But he spent the entirety of our last morning together griping and brooding over every little thing. Was I crazy to think he was upset because we were parting ways? Or was he just ready to be done with me and eager to set off on his stupid little trip to the brothel? And why did I care anyway?

All I should have cared about was returning home to my father. But as I walked down the cobblestone path to our front door, still leading the horse Alberto left with me, I felt a tug in my heart. Some kind of pull that made me long to turn around and run right back into Alberto’s arms.

I did my best to push those urges down and keep walking. I was sure that once I settled back into my home and saw my father’s face, all of these ridiculous feelings would fade. After all, for every act of kindness Alberto had shown me, there were just as many acts of cruelty. It was absurd to be pining over him as I returned to the place I wanted to be more than anywhere.

Tears started streaming down my face as I lifted my hand to knock on the door, but I quickly wiped them away. I didn’t want my father to see me crying the moment