“That was more than four years ago,” Roland said.
Cyrus’s glaze slid to Roland, his eyes as black and hard as coal. “A deal is a deal, and I don’t like it when people renege on deals.”
Roland licked his lips. “Give me some time, and I’ll give you the money back.”
“I don’t want the money. I want you to stay away from my wife.”
“What I do, when I do it, and with whom, is none of your business,” Daniella interjected.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cyrus said. “Everything you do is my business because it affects me and reflects on our marriage. Therefore, I forbid you to see this snake again.” He spoke in an imperious tone, as if he thought she’d simply fall in line with his dictate.
“Snake? Wait a damn minute,” Roland blustered.
“Roland, please.” Daniella could feel frustration course through her body. Back and forth, back and forth they went, and she was caught in the middle. She took a deep breath. “Cyrus, you can’t forbid me to see anyone, and even though you found out about the investigator, I’m not done. I won’t give up.”
“You’re wasting precious time. Neither of us is getting any younger.”
“We should leave,” Daniella murmured to Roland. She stood and both men promptly followed suit.
“Time is up, Dani,” Cyrus warned.
She looked up into his granite features. “You don’t scare me.”
His mouth twitched into a half-smile. He seldom smiled, and more often than not, when he did, he wore that damned half-smile. Which she hated. It reeked of arrogance and a superiority complex—fed by the way people danced around him, rushed to do his bidding, and damn near curtsied in his presence.
He leaned in close again and she stiffened her spine, forcing herself not to withdraw. He whispered in her ear, “There are consequences for your actions. I hope you can live with them.”
His scent surrounded her, and a mixture of fear and arousal caused a faint tremor to rattle through her system.
“I can live with them, as long as they get me away from you,” she whispered back. His mouth was inches away from hers, and her bottom lip tingled with the inexplicable urge to kiss him.
“Well, I guess I’ve been told. I should slink away with my tail between my legs, since I’ve been utterly defeated.” The corners of his mouth curved even higher. “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”
Before she guessed his intent, Cyrus placed a firm hand at her waist and pulled her into him. The impact with his hard body sent a shockwave of hunger straight to her core. Placing a hand on his arm, she leaned back from him.
“Cyrus.” Her voice should have been a firm dismissal. Instead it came out breathless and trembling.
He pressed his mouth to hers and she gasped, taken by surprise. Cyrus didn’t make public displays of affection. He’d never held her hand or even given her a peck on the cheek in the presence of others. The most he’d ever done was place a hand at the base of her spine, a comforting gesture meant to show they were together or to guide her in the direction he wanted so he could introduce her to so-and-so from such-and-such a company.
This was not about affection, though. The kiss informed her and Roland of his intentions toward her. It was nothing but a stamp, forcing her to accept to whom she belonged. His mouth pressed hard into hers, and then he swiped the tip of his tongue just inside her lips before lifting his head.
She barely noticed the other customers openly staring at them. Her swamped senses buzzed from the contact. The kiss was so short. It couldn’t have lasted more than two seconds, three at the most. Yet every single cell in her body screamed for more.
“How dare you,” she said, trying to save face. She lifted a hand to her throbbing mouth.