Free Enemy Sworn by Karin Tabke Page B

bringing him to her father alive so that he could serve up the blood-for-blood vengeance. Never in a thousand years had any of them expected that person to waltz into the lion’s den, announce his deed, show the proof, then demand a place at the table!
    Who did that? Only certifiably crazy people. Sophia’s heart thundered against her rib cage. Partly in fear but also in a crazy, heady respect for what this man was willing to sacrifice for her. Or was he willing to sacrifice his hand for the power it would lead to? Many men had sacrificed much more.
    â€œDo not interfere,” her father roughly said as he brought the blade up. As it came down in a flash, the crazy stranger did not flinch, but neither did her father sever the hand. The blade struck beside it deep into the inlaid rosewood tabletop.
    â€œYou have bigger pelotas than I suspected, Loco,” Dumas said. “I don’t know if I should spit on you for your weakness for a woman or hug you for your commitment to my daughter.”
    â€œHow about if we shake on it instead,” the stranger said.

chapter seven
    I n disbelief, Sophia stared at her father. Emotion overcame her as she touched his forearm. “ Gracias , Papa.” For the first time in her life, he had respected her wishes over his own. Had she finally earned his respect?
    Without looking at her, he said, “That my decision makes you happy, mi hija , is a bonus.”
    She smiled at the endearment. Her father continued, “But I did not spare his hand for you. I spared it for the family. For what I have in store for him, he will need both hands.”
    Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Just as he had done with her mother, her father, the great and powerful Dumas, indulged only when it suited his own agenda. Her mother, Felicia, was a free spirit who had been beaten down into submission by her father. When it hit Sophia at that moment, the whys of her mother’s decision to run, some of the anger she had been harboring for the last ten years evaporated. Could she blame her? And knowing her father as she did, had Felicia taken Dumas’s daughter, she would have paid with her life.
    And yet, for all her wishful thoughts of escape, Sophia clung to the hope that one day her father would embrace her with love and respect and see her for who she was: a loyal, intelligent daughter who would never dishonor the family. And yet . . . she had. Disrespected him by flaunting herself at the club, then throwing herself at the man who killed her father’s chosen one.
    Focusing on him, she was not going to kid herself that his ballsy display was simply because he couldn’t live without her. She was a means to an end. Pure and simple. And as a pawn, she would protect the only thing she had control of: her heart.
    â€œWhat do we call you, other than loco, stranger?” Sophia asked, then snidely added, “So that we have the right name for your tombstone.” She was happy, no, ecstatic, that he had managed to hold on to his life and both hands. But she would give him no mercy where she was concerned. She was an unwilling partner in his quest for power. A fact she would remind him of every chance she got.
    â€œJuarez,” he answered huskily as his eyes dipped to her lips. “Mateo Juarez.” A tingle fluttered in her belly. Her pores expanded, emanating pheromones in answer to his hot stare.
    Her father slapped Mateo on the back before pushing him away. “Call for the padre!”
    Sophia gasped. “Now?” she asked incredulously. “You want me to marry him now ?” She freaked. She needed time. Time to talk Mateo out of this. Time to talk her father out of this nonsense.
    Panicked, she looked at Mateo, who looked as concerned as she. Was her father really going to propagate this . . . this farce? But then again, he’d wanted her to marry Javier. And despite how Sophia had felt about her dead fiancé,