“They don’t care who I am.”
“Everybody cares who you are, Miss Kamande. How many beautiful, black heiresses do you think roam the streets of America? You’re a rarity. A man would do most anything for time alone with you?” His gaze flattened. “Whether you want it or not and consequences be damned,” he added.
“Does that include you?” She only faintly bristled then. “The ‘whether you want it or not’?”
“No,” he bristled then as well. “Forcing is for cowards. The ‘consequences be damned’? You better believe it does.”
Imani lowered her eyes, but Roman set his index finger beneath her chin and waited until she looked at him.
“Don’t try to lose your protection again. It’s not worth it, Imani. America can be far more brutal than any safari you’ve ever been on. Trust that, okay?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologize. Just keep yourself safe. I’m the one who's sorry for coming on so strong.”
“You didn’t. I-I’m used to it. You and my brothers have much in common. You’re...formidable just like them.”
He advanced suddenly and Imani backed away until her spine touched the concrete wall.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Imani.”
“I know that,” she said. He was close enough to touch, so she did, brushing her thumb over the bruise on his jaw. “What happened?” she whispered.
He rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing. I did it sparring,” he winced, “It’s um a boxing thing-”
Her laughter interrupted the explanation. “I know what boxing and sparring are, Mr. Tesano. Do you do this often?”
“Only when I’m upset,” he advanced another step and sealed whatever space remained between them.
“What were you upset about?” Imani asked.
“Watching you with that idiot you’re going to marry.”
“I don’t want him.”
Roman brought his hand to her chin again. “Glad to hear it,” he said and his mouth came down on hers.
Imani had been kissed before. She hadn’t expected a sweet, tepid kiss and; while this one was far from that, it was still miles beyond what she had expected.
Roman offered no teasing pecks to prepare her for more. Instead, he went for instant claiming and undeniable possession.
Imani’s heart went to her throat and she gasped, giving him more room to invade her mouth. He left no part of it untouched, exploring the ridge of her teeth, the roof of her mouth. Slowly, he stroked her tongue before sucking it between his perfectly crafted lips.
Her hands rested in half curled fists against his chest as she submitted to every stage of the kiss. Gently, she nudged her tongue against his commanding thrusts. A sense of tremendous accomplishment rushed through her when he moaned his approval.
Growing greedier for him, she stood on her toes for over a minute to take as much of his kiss as he would allow. Eventually, Roman took her off her feet in order to kiss her from a more comfortable position for them both.
Imani was greedier still to ease her curiosity about him. Tentatively, she stroked his chest and shoulders, shivering in the knowledge that he was as unyielding as he appeared. A tiny, approving whimper escaped her when her fingers tunneled into his hair. She discovered it was as sleek and dense as she’d imagined.
Roman didn’t trust himself to take such liberties with exploring the girl that he couldn’t stop thinking about. He was well past greedy to ease his curiosity, he was downright insatiable. To do so, would take him to a place he couldn’t come back from and one she wasn’t ready for.
Desperate then, he felt along the wall of concrete until he found the button that activated the service elevator. His fist made contact and the car set in motion. Once its chrome doors shifted open, he took Imani inside, broke their kiss when he set her down and retreated back into the hall. He shut his eyes tightly when the doors closed on the sound of her struggling to steady her breath.
~24~
“Not hungry, lovely?”
Imani had given up the slight effort she made to finish her stew. She and Nassor occupied an intimate table in the formal dining room that evening. The locale wasn’t all that intimate. Imani’s trusty guards were only a table away. Her father and brothers occupied a big table on the other side of the candlelit room.
“I had a big lunch,” she said and managed a simple smile.
“That’s good,” Kapango Nassor nodded while cutting into the sirloin tips he’d ordered. “You didn’t seem to have much of an appetite the other night.”
Imani’s smile became a smirk. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“Imani, Imani,” Nassor’s smile was playfully cunning. “You have an incredible laugh, an even more beautiful smile, but even they didn’t distract me from your unfinished plate.”
She shifted in her chair, resolving herself to get the question behind her. “How do you feel about this, Nassor? How do you really feel?”
Nassor seemed uncertain. “I...don’t-”
“You could have anyone,” Imani clarified, brows lifting slyly. “From what I’ve heard you have.”
Nassor’s uncertainty took a turn towards cocky and he looked down into his plate. “Not everyone,” he murmured.
“You can’t possibly be ready to be a husband. Not that kind of husband.”
Nassor chuckled. “Are there different kinds, love?”
