turned on Dumas. âWho did this to her and why?â
âTell him, daughter, or I will and the entire village will know your shame.â
Sophia straightened, and tossed her hair off her face to look at Mateo but directed her words to her father. âThey already know my shame!â
âSuch disrespect deserves more than stern words,â Dumas ground out, raising his hand to strike his daughter. Mateo grabbed the powerful hand, squeezing the elderâs fingers so tightly his fingertips turned white.
âTouch her and I will kill you,â Mateo promised.
Like two titans they stood face to face, toe to toe, Mateo holding the supreme leaderâs fist high between them. Sophia cried out behind him, shoving past him to stand beside her father. The significance of her move was not lost on Mateo. If she picked Mateo over her father before he claimed her, she would lose whatever respect she had left. But damned if he was going to allow any man, including her father, to lay a hand on her.
âI donât need your protection from anyone, especially my father,â she hissed.
Mateo nodded, satisfied. At least now she was showing some spine.
Mateo looked up to Dumas, whose eyes shot fire. It wasnât every day he was so challenged. Mateo pushed off the leaderâs fist and held his hand out to Sophia. She refused him.
âTake it,â Mat commanded.
When Sophia refused a second time, Dumas made a low rumbling sound of frustration. Before she invited more violence, Mateo grabbed the surly vixen and yanked her beside him. âYou belong to me now, woman, know your place,â he growled.
Sophia jerked her head back, and raised those mesmerizing eyes to her father. âWhat is he saying?â
Dumas looked sternly at her. âBlood for blood, daughter.â He pointed to what passed as Bertramâs head on the courtyard floor. âHe did that, and now all that was Javiâs belongs to him.â Dumas took her hand and placed it on Mateoâs forearm. âYou are his to claim should he choose to do so. And so he has chosen to make his claim.â He looked hard at Mateo. âDo you think by taking my daughter this way it will solidify a place for you among my family?â
âI could care less about your family.â Mateoâs eyes focused on Sophia, who seemed to have lost some of her resistance to him but now stood carefully watching him. âI have not stopped thinking of her since we . . . met.â Mateo kept the more intimate details of that meeting to himself. He wasnât sure how el patrón would feel about his daughter begging his capoâs assassin to pop her cherry.
âEven though she is damaged goods?â
Mateo smiled, grabbed her to him and caught her chin with his fingers. âIâd give my right hand to have her.â
Sophiaâs reaction was classic surrendering female to his possessive male. Her big brown eyes widened as they searched his face for reaffirmation of what heâd just said. That he meant them stunned him. He wanted her that bad. That she wanted to believe in him despite their rough start astounded him.
He had never been as hard for a woman as he was at that moment. His muscles clenched painfully. Before he embarrassed them both, he abruptly released her and pushed her away from him. âPack your things,â he hoarsely said. âWeâre leaving.â
âOh no, no, no, not yet, my friend,â Dumas purred. âThere is the price of your right hand to pay for both of my daughterâs.â
âNo, father!â Sophia cried. âHe will be useless to me one-handed!â She turned and glared at Mateo, then said to her father, âEnd this charade now. Cut off his head!â
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
Thoughts ran rampant in Sophiaâs head. How could she escape the lunacy of her life? Damn this situation! Her father ignored her demand, as she had