"If you hadn't tried to run away twice in three days," Vicente slid one hand into his pocket, a lazy smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"I wouldn't have had to work this hard."
He pulled out a cigarette and clamped it between his teeth, his striking features exuding a roguish yet icy aura.
Just as he flicked open his lighter, a delicate hand suddenly reached over and snatched the cigarette from his mouth.
Vicente arched an eyebrow, his gaze locking onto Melissa.
Under that piercing stare, Melissa's bravado instantly deflated.
Still, she tilted her chin up stubbornly and muttered, "This is a shopping mall.
No smoking allowed."
For some reason, the man's eyes reminded her of a wolf—sharp, predatory, impossible to meet directly.
Rules?
The world was full of rules. If he'd followed every single one, he wouldn't have survived this long.
But as he took in the woman's bright, delicate face, Vicente pocketed the lighter.
"Got it."
