Honor C by C. Zampa

Author:C. Zampa [Zampa, C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781623807153
Google: pD5-C6BsvfwC
Amazon: B00D2KE11E
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-05-27T12:00:00+00:00

JORGE’S voice hailed from behind me, and I turned to see

him standing at the office entrance, his arms folded across his chest and his head thrown back. His nails dug into his taut biceps, and his very palpable fury stretched the area between us to lance me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and made my way toward him. Jorge remained quiet, rigid—a seething, hungry cat with the intent to claw and devour etched on his face—and his gray eyes followed my every step.

I hardened my jaw to force a fake smile. Jorge stepped from the sidewalk to head toward me, his arms still crossed. His slender hips swung in slow, deliberate synch with his lithe body, and his stare fried me to cinders.

He stopped a couple of feet in front of me, his chin tucked, and cooed, “Apologize to me, Honor Castillo.” “Jorge, I—” With no warning, he reared back his arm, then brought it forward with lightning speed and slammed his palm against my cheek.

So unexpected, so explosive. The impact sent me stumbling backward. Jorge followed my path, fists clenched, hissing and cursing in Spanish. He aimed his splayed palm at my face, but I grasped his wrist before he found his target.

When it seemed the Latin tornado had subsided a bit, I eased my grip on his arm. “What the hell are you doing?” Jorge jerked away, crossed his arms, and bit the corner of his lip. Staring down his nose at me, he murmured, “Apologize to me, Honor.”

May God forgive me for pretending not to know what this beautiful man spoke of. “What have I done? Was I rude to you, or did I—?”

“For being a goddamn coward and turning on this sanctimonious act in there. If you need me, tell Esperanza and such shit. In other words, don’t call me anymore, Jorge. Stay away. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” Flinging his hands on his hips, he snorted. “Oh no, wait. Esperanza will call you!”

“It’s just business talk, Jorge. It’s nothing personal.” But, damn, how I’d longed for it to be personal, and it had been wrong to ever tread those waters.

“Part of me wants to rip your hair out, cut off your balls, and shred your dick.” He pressed his palms together, tapped his fingers to his forehead, then pointed them at me. “But—”

“And I told you. I deserve it. I insulted you.”

“No. You didn’t insult me at the club. You didn’t insult me by stopping things before they became… well… things.” “Then…?” “You insulted me just now. In there.” Motioning toward the office. “The sudden formality. Like I was some teenage stalker and you had to protect yourself and your family from me.”

“How did I do that?” Oh, I knew exactly how I’d done it, but it had been the only way I knew to resist this man I wanted.

“Oh,” he whispered. “The goddamn dumb act.” “Jorge—”

“Never mind.” He held up his hands. “Never fucking mind, Honor.” Waving his hands, he turned his back to me and started for his car.

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