Stolen Wife by Carina Blake
Genre: Romance Suspense w/ Dark Elements
Release Date: June 30, 2020
I’ll do whatever it takes to get her in my arms, even kill my brother.
I’ll do everything in my power to destroy all who came between us.
The second I held the wedding photo of Giada with my brother, my revenge became tainted with possessiveness so profound that I grew colder. Calculating. Obsessed.
I’d do anything to get my desire. To taste her.
Giada is mine, and it didn’t matter the how or why, because she just is. I'll play her name in my head—my sirens song—as I remove her from my brother’s grasp and take her for my own.
One by one, I’d get my vendetta on those who sent me away while claiming what was never theirs.
I wake up groggily with my head fuzzy, but from the looks of it unharmed. Maybe last night had all been a dream. Did I really dream about Santino kissing me? I’m glad Rafael didn’t come in and hear me if I did. I roll over onto my back when I hit a large frame. A frame much larger than Rafael’s. I reach out and feel a muscular chest. I open my eyes and see Santino with his elbow propping him up as he looks at me.
“Good morning.” The smile on his face almost makes me forget the danger we’re in.
“Good morning? Are you nuts? What are you doing in my bed? Rafael will kill you. Oh my goodness. I wasn’t dreaming.” My heart’s racing as fast as my mind is. I can already picture Rafael and his goons busting down the doors and shooting up the place on principle alone. Or maybe they’ll just torture us to death. I look into his eyes and all I see is mirth, which pisses me off as much as it turns me on.
“You thought you dreamed of me, baby?” He slides his hand over my hip and under my nightgown. My skin tingles from the gentle grip he exerts. God, how am I getting turned on?
It makes me mad how hot he is, and I become flustered with his touch. I shove his hand away and glare at him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not in your bed at the compound. You’re in our bed in my home.”
“What?” I flip around and look. This isn’t my room. The room is made of clean lines, greyish-blue walls with a large television mounted to the wall. I’m confused and taken aback by this. Slamming my eyes shut, I take several deep breaths and then pinch myself.
“You’re not dreaming. I took you, and you’re here. End of story.” He sits up in the bed, and it’s the first time I notice that he’s ripped from his shoulders down to his…oh my goodness. He’s extremely hard right now. I turn to look away. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m not sure,” I respond with a barely audible whisper. My confusion has only grown. I stand to get some space between us and then it dawns on me that I’m not in my nightgown anymore. Instead, I’m in a big tee shirt with my hard nipples pressing against the letters.
“You took off my clothes? Are you trying to get us killed?” I cover my chest, like it does me any good. The man took off my clothes last night. Did he do anything else to me?
“I’m not afraid of any of them. And yes. Do you think I’d let you wear something my brother probably has fucked you in? I don’t want anything of his tainting my home.” I’m seeing a change in his mood. His temper’s slipping past that cool, calm, sexy façade. It’s as if my heart’s breaking, which makes absolutely no sense since I’ve never had a chance for love to come and tear it apart.
I glare at him and test his actions. I have to know who I’m dealing with. “Well, then, I should go, since I’m his.” He jumps off the bed and crosses the distance between us. Unable to stop myself, I flinch, waiting to feel the sting. He’s much larger than his brother and father, and I know this will hurt more, and not only physically.
“I’m not him and you’re not his,” he growls, dragging me with one arm around my waist and the other in my hair. His mouth slams down on mine. God, that kiss had been real. Before I can melt into him, he pushes off of me.
“That was wrong,” I say as I watch him get dressed. Santino slips on a white undershirt and a pair of grey dress slacks before sliding on a crisp white dress shirt.
He turns around to face me with the shirt still wide open. I’m amazed by the feral look in his eyes. From head to toe this man is perfection, but his mouth on mine was the most insanely sexy thing in the world I’ve ever experienced.
He stalks toward me, but this time I don’t flinch because I’m ridiculously hoping for another kiss. He tips my chin with his thick thumb, pulling my bottom lip from under the grip of my upper teeth. “Felt fucking right to me.” My body heats up and I breathily look up into his eyes that are trained to my lips, waiting for more. Instead, he steps back and says, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make. Please eat.” He points to the trays on the table that’s in the middle of the room.
“So you’re going to leave me up here locked away?” I ask, changing one cell for another.
“Damn right,” he growls, nodding his head as he grabs his phone and gun.
“Good morning.” The smile on his face almost makes me forget the danger we’re in.
“Good morning? Are you nuts? What are you doing in my bed? Rafael will kill you. Oh my goodness. I wasn’t dreaming.” My heart’s racing as fast as my mind is. I can already picture Rafael and his goons busting down the doors and shooting up the place on principle alone. Or maybe they’ll just torture us to death. I look into his eyes and all I see is mirth, which pisses me off as much as it turns me on.
“You thought you dreamed of me, baby?” He slides his hand over my hip and under my nightgown. My skin tingles from the gentle grip he exerts. God, how am I getting turned on?
It makes me mad how hot he is, and I become flustered with his touch. I shove his hand away and glare at him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not in your bed at the compound. You’re in our bed in my home.”
“What?” I flip around and look. This isn’t my room. The room is made of clean lines, greyish-blue walls with a large television mounted to the wall. I’m confused and taken aback by this. Slamming my eyes shut, I take several deep breaths and then pinch myself.
“You’re not dreaming. I took you, and you’re here. End of story.” He sits up in the bed, and it’s the first time I notice that he’s ripped from his shoulders down to his…oh my goodness. He’s extremely hard right now. I turn to look away. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m not sure,” I respond with a barely audible whisper. My confusion has only grown. I stand to get some space between us and then it dawns on me that I’m not in my nightgown anymore. Instead, I’m in a big tee shirt with my hard nipples pressing against the letters.
“You took off my clothes? Are you trying to get us killed?” I cover my chest, like it does me any good. The man took off my clothes last night. Did he do anything else to me?
“I’m not afraid of any of them. And yes. Do you think I’d let you wear something my brother probably has fucked you in? I don’t want anything of his tainting my home.” I’m seeing a change in his mood. His temper’s slipping past that cool, calm, sexy façade. It’s as if my heart’s breaking, which makes absolutely no sense since I’ve never had a chance for love to come and tear it apart.
I glare at him and test his actions. I have to know who I’m dealing with. “Well, then, I should go, since I’m his.” He jumps off the bed and crosses the distance between us. Unable to stop myself, I flinch, waiting to feel the sting. He’s much larger than his brother and father, and I know this will hurt more, and not only physically.
“I’m not him and you’re not his,” he growls, dragging me with one arm around my waist and the other in my hair. His mouth slams down on mine. God, that kiss had been real. Before I can melt into him, he pushes off of me.
“That was wrong,” I say as I watch him get dressed. Santino slips on a white undershirt and a pair of grey dress slacks before sliding on a crisp white dress shirt.
He turns around to face me with the shirt still wide open. I’m amazed by the feral look in his eyes. From head to toe this man is perfection, but his mouth on mine was the most insanely sexy thing in the world I’ve ever experienced.
He stalks toward me, but this time I don’t flinch because I’m ridiculously hoping for another kiss. He tips my chin with his thick thumb, pulling my bottom lip from under the grip of my upper teeth. “Felt fucking right to me.” My body heats up and I breathily look up into his eyes that are trained to my lips, waiting for more. Instead, he steps back and says, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make. Please eat.” He points to the trays on the table that’s in the middle of the room.
“So you’re going to leave me up here locked away?” I ask, changing one cell for another.
“Damn right,” he growls, nodding his head as he grabs his phone and gun.
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