Page 12 of Revenge

But now it registers in every cell. I feel it to the bone.

This man is dangerous. People die by his hand. And right now, my family and I are in his crosshairs.

I change my tone. “Please,” I try. “I’m sorry. Antonio, please put me down.”

He gives my ass a slap. “Yes, beg, darling. It’s a sound I relish from your lips.”

I bite back the snarky I’m not your darling that wants to come out and force myself to stop kicking. “Please,” I try again.

Antonio carries me into the master suite and shuts the door. The interior design of the yacht was completed by none other than Caroline Ferdova, and this room was papered in silver and gold crane wallpaper with thick white shag carpet that will get dirty by the end of our first voyage.

It was decorated for my honeymoon. Red rose petals are scattered across a white bedspread.

Champagne glasses stand on the bedside table.

Antonio drops me in the center of the bed. One breast pops free of my strapless gown, and I scramble to cover it.

Oh, God.

I suddenly realize what hadn’t occurred to me in the limo or at the church.

This sham of a marriage might require consummation.

My gaze flies to my groom’s, and a shock wave of confirmation ripples through me. His lids are at half-mast, and his tongue pushes against his cheek as he devours my body in a heated gaze.

“I’m not having sex with you!” I say quickly before we get any farther.

Antonio’s lips twitch. He arches one brow. “Dahlia. You are.”

I scramble back on the bed, hiking the long train of my gown up to rise awkwardly to my knees. “I won’t do it. You wouldn’t–you won’t…it would be rape!” I’m semi-hysterical now.

As if to punctuate the moment, the yacht begins to move, taking me away from any hope of rescue or salvation.

Honestly, I was far more repulsed by the idea of consummating the marriage with Jake than I am with Antonio, but I’m not giving it up like this. I won’t just lie down and take it. I draw the line at–

I realize Antonio no longer appears amused. In fact, there’s a dark scowl on his sexy mouth. “I won’t rape you.” He’s gone quite still now, and I find it vastly more threatening than when he was prowling toward me. “You will give yourself to me willingly. In fact, you’ll beg me to give you release.”

His confidence makes goosebumps race across my skin. I hate myself for already wanting to know what exactly he might do to me that would make me beg.

“Also, you won’t leave this yacht until the marriage is consummated.” He walks to the bed and extends a hand. “Now come here for your punishment.”

I flatten myself against the wall and let out a semi-hysterical laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll double it if I have to come and get you.”

Chapter Three

Antonio

I have to admit, my bride is exquisite. Her dark hair falls around her shoulders, framing a pale, heart-shaped face and intelligent blue eyes. Her perfection only heightens my thrill of victory at taking her from her intended future.

I have to firm my resolve to be cruel to her. It softened the moment I touched her–that’s the power of a beautiful woman.

This is how she tempted me to my demise the first time we met.

That doesn’t mean I won’t thoroughly enjoy taking her in hand.

I remain casual, one hand shoved in the pocket of my tuxedo pants, the other still extended to her in a gentlemanly manner.