Of Lust and Love

6. Tough Luck

Rafael

Waking up with a fucking hangover was a terrible way to start his day. The warmth and rays of sunlight streaming from his open windows made him groan. The throbbing pain in his skull made him squint his dark brown eyes on the grandfather clock steadily ticking, mocking him. Rafael stifled a savage curse. Too early in the morning to be cursing his life.

Besides, he had a lot on his plate. The first was to meet the disguised angel from last night. He didn't trust her. Like recognized like. 

She, the Angel was something more.

Fuck! He had to stop calling her that. Her name was...Angelina. An apt name for such a delicate face but she was not from the heavens. 

He might have been drunk when he met her, his intuition though had deemed her as a threat. To what? To his sanity. Damn it!

Who was she really? How could a slip of a woman be a threat to him?

Rafael was nobody's fool. He would not be successful and feared by his peers if he was. No one had the temerity to question his conclusions because he always had evidence. And his instinct had never failed him. Yet.

What was it about her that drew him in?

Her fighting skills?

Nah. He was sure she would need pointers from him. No one was that good. Especially, a woman.

Her beauty then.

No. Beauty was skin-deep. He was more interested in what was inside a woman's brain. More like the new tzarina, whom he admired. The new mafia queen. Beauty and brains to match. Lucky bastard!

His usual bed partners were one-night stands. He used them and then discard them. Yes. He was an asshole of the first degree. He couldn't even remember their faces, nor their names.

Before the tragedy, he used to have an ideal woman for himself.

Funny. Intelligent. Soft-hearted. Compassionate. Loyal to a fault. And a lady with a backbone of steel.

One has to be when married to a Cartel leader. 

Like what his Papa had with his Mama.

Except that was in the past. He had no plans to marry. Ever.

Rafael's mood turned darker. With a savage growl, he got up from the bed and went straight to his ensuite bath. There he let the warm water wash over him and tried to relax.

Impossible. He had to meet the new addition to his household.

Angelina.

So what was it about her that intrigued him so?

***

An hour later and he still had no answer. 

Seated at the head of the formal dining table, he stared at the diminutive female seated two chairs away from him to his right and fought an irrational impulse to scowl. He couldn't read her and it was damning he couldn't figure out what she was up to.

All he could see was the set of her chin and the curve of her pink lips. Her eyes. He wondered what color they might be.

Cursing in his head, he blocked the sudden flare of arousal he felt. He didn't need complications. And if -that's a big IF- she truly was Tia Juanita and Tia Lucinda's niece then she was off-limits. He had too much respect for the only remaining family he had left.

"Where are you in San Francisco, Angelina?" He asked and almost choke when she raised her eyes and met his. Blue-violet. Fathomless. But mysterious. And so magnificent. Puta!