Page 24 of Rockland

Her mouth gapes, her eyes widening. “Ah… Okay—are you sure?”

His eyes have not left mine. He replies, “Very sure.”

“Um… okay.” She scurries off to inevitably gossip with the cook staff. Did you see that hot guy? I think he’s going to do something to that woman he’s with.

Rockland’s out of his seat, looming over me. He holds his hand out to me, to help me from the booth. I shrink back into the padded leather. He reaches further, snatching my hand and yanking me from my seat.

I go quietly. Letting him pull me along by his side. I’ll not make a bigger scene than we already have. Not until we are alone, at least. Then I’m going to give this brute a piece of my mind and tell him exactly where he can stick his piece of pie⁠—

My thoughts are interrupted by the sharp slap of his giant palm on my ass. Right in the middle of the street here in the Bronx—or wherever the hell it is he’s taken me. I jump three feet in the air, my hand going to my ass to rub the sting from it. I shout, “What was that for?” Pedestrians ogle me as they scurry past.

“Just want to make sure you know what’s happening to that sweet ass of yours the second we walk in the door.”

I freeze. White heat flushes up from my chest, burning across my face. Knots form in my stomach. My feet plant into the cement. “What the hell are you talking about? I thought you cancelled our little greasy spoon meal because I refused your hearty helping of cholesterol—which I’m glad for. How can you eat that crap?”

“We left because I’m taking you home to spank your sassy bottom. That’s why we left.”

He tugs me toward the beat-up truck he’s brought me here in. It’s so high off the ground, he’s got to give me a boost so I can get in. His hands are firm on my ass as he pushes me up into the seat. He shuts the door, gets into the driver’s side, and guns the engine. It’s embarrassing to no end—eyes turn toward us, getting a look at the monstrosity that’s just roared to life. He pops the clutch and pulls into traffic. Since the memorial, I’ve done some snooping. Though he lives in some offshore ragtag village, the man is a billionaire. With several very nice coupes and sports cars. But this jalopy is his favorite.

Lucky me.

I cross my arms over my chest. An uneasy feeling settles into the pit of my knotted stomach. “So now I can’t even order my own food? You’re gonna punish me over every little thing?”

He shifts gears and his eyes cut to mine. “You gonna keep arguing over every little thing?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I am. So deal with it,” I snap.

His hand leaves the clutch. Landing on my thigh and squeezing it, hard. “I am dealing with it. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Being an asshole.”

He smiles at that one. “When we get home, you’re going to strip off all your clothes and lay yourself over that ten thousand dollar couch you bought. Then this asshole is going to whip your ass with his belt.”

“What?” Panic rises within me. He can’t be serious. He’d best not be serious. I stutter, “Th-this is… is… ridiculous. I don’t even need you here.”

“Don’t you? You weigh a hundred pounds—if that. You’re spending money like the duchess of Earl. And you drink like a fucking fish. Yeah—I’d say you’ve taken excellent care of yourself.”

I sniff. “I’m perfectly fine on my own. And it’s my money to do what I will with. Just because you hide your wealth and get your cars out of junkyards, doesn’t mean that I have to pretend to be broke when I’m not. And how do you know anything about my finances?”

“As per the hierarchy, I have access to your accounts. It looks to me like you’ve been doing a little grief shopping.”

“Spying on my bank accounts? Unbelievable! What is with this patriarchal hierarchy bullshit? I’m a grown woman and I’ll spend my inheritance as I see fit. Besides, I have more money than I could spend.”

“I’m well aware of how much money you have. I believe I spanked your ass for throwing blocks of cash at me. Remember that, bad girl?”

I’m rolling my eyes so far in the back of my head I fear they’ll get stuck. I ignore his statement and instead between clenched teeth, I hiss the words, “I’m. Fine.”

He shrugs casually. Smiles. Takes the next turn. “Then I won’t have to hang around long, will I? Just get your ass whipped back into shape, then I’ll head back to Greece. Fine with me—the weather is about a thousand times nicer there. But don’t think for a second you can pull any wool over my eyes. I will not be stepping foot off Village soil until I’m one hundred and ten percent sure you’re back on your feet.”

How did he know I was planning on playing him for the fool? Putting on a show to get him the hell out of here, then self-imploding? That asshole knows me better than I think. I can’t tell him that, so instead, I hurl an insult. “You’re like a pit bull—a guard dog or something. All muscles and bark and bite.”

He flashes me a wicked smile. “You’re welcome to cuddle with this pit bull, if you’d like.” He shoots me a glance with those gold-flecked eyes and instantly my panties go damp. “That is—after you get his teeth out of your ass.”

My breath catches in my throat. I squirm in my seat. Turn my head toward the window to avoid his gaze.

I feel hot. Bothered. Furious, yet… curious. The way he speaks, his rumbling words. His assured nature. There isn’t an ounce of worry or concern that he won’t be able to whip me into shape. That my own will will be stronger than his. He has a cool confidence that he’ll be able to tame me.

I have to admit—it’s a fucking turn-on.