It was a lesson Mateo never forgot.
Another lesson he learned was that his station in life, much poorer than the people his mother served, robbed him of his worth and identity to the privileged upper-class. His resentment grew the more he realized that he was a nameless, faceless minority that could be traded and sold within that upper crust society. When it cost him the thing that meant most to him, his family, he was out for revenge.
When pampered princess, Peyton Prescott, landed on his radar, he had a few plans in store for the preening debutante who thought the world owed her something. He embarked on the rather titillating journey teaching her a few important lessons he thought she needed to learn. He wasn't going to be happy until he was in the driver's seat, and she was going to fight him every step of the way.
The longer it takes to tame this entitled vixen, the more Mateo is attracted to her core strength and uncompromising ability to go after what she wants.
Before long, this powerful alpha male must decide whether or not he can submit to his own desires. But things are more difficult than they seem, for the top spot on Mateo's priority list is already taken by another girl.
Excerpt from The Undisciplined Bride
She wore an evil smile as she shopped for the special attire she had planned for the evening. Instead of dressing up for the occasion, she, too, wore a band T-shirt that was thread-bare and skin tight, a cute little gem she found at a flea market on the way back from her father’s office. She didn’t bother with a bra, nor did she worry about underwear underneath her jeans. There was barely any breathing room between the denim and her body as it was.
She could imagine his peeling her clothes from her like someone might peel a banana, and it made her giggle as she spritzed herself with her favorite perfume. She tossed her hair for that just-out-of-bed look on the way to answer his knock at precisely eight o’clock.
His eyes drifted over her new clothes, barely concealing his amusement. “Am I early? I’d hate to miss the evening gown competition.”
She shrugged. “I figured I’d follow your lead,” she said as she indicated his casual clothes. “You are my teacher, after all.” He laughed as he knelt to retrieve a couple of cloth bags full of groceries. “It’s a good thing you’re dressed comfortably,” he said as he led the way to the kitchen. “Since we’ll be doing a little bit more than boiling water tonight.”
“Good,” she said as she followed. “I doubt sincerely I can wow anyone with my ability to make tea.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Princess. All you learned was how to boil a pot of water. Tea is a few steps beyond you at this point.” He hoisted the bags onto her marble countertop and proceeded to unload the contents.
“I love how you think I’m so helpless in the kitchen. I can make a cup of tea.”
He turned to her slightly. “Prove it.”
“What?”
His eyes met hers. “Make me a cup of tea, Peyton.”
It was such a softly spoken demand for something completely mundane, but it shot electricity down to her toes. “Fine,” she said as she reached under the counter for her teapot. She filled it with water and put it on the stove, before retrieving a canister full of tea bags and a mug.
Through her peripheral vision, she noticed Mateo lean against the counter to watch her work, which made her feel terribly self-conscious. She busied herself pulling out the sugar and fresh mint, praying she wouldn’t drop anything like a klutz in front of him. For long minutes the torture went on as he studied her every movement. Finally her hands trembled as she poured the boiling water into the cup. As the tea was steeping, she turned to him. “So how did I do, Teach?”
He grinned as he crossed the kitchen to stand in front of her. He put a hand on either side of her, resting on the marble counter. “I won’t know until I have a taste,” he said softly as his eyes traveled over her slightly parted lips. “But your form was good,” he added, glancing down over her taunt chest. “Definitely a lot of… raw potential to work with.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “As good as Lissette?” she wanted to know.
“Apples and oranges,” he answered softly, and coyly, with a tug at the corner of his mouth.
“I guess you really do have a preference for rich blondes,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her.
“Blondes in general,” he admitted gleefully. “They don’t have to be rich.” He touched a curly tendril of her hair. “They don’t even have to be a natural blonde.”
She slapped his hand out of her hair, which made him chuckle. “No offense, Princess. Thanks to your little peep show the other night, I know you’re true.”
She flushed beet red as she turned back to the cup on her counter. She felt the heat from his body as he leaned against her, his mouth against her neck. Neither of his hands had moved from their spot on either side of her, but he stood close enough to press her into the counter. She nearly groaned in spite of herself as she realized that hard contour pressing into her ass was the evidence of his desire. When he spoke, she practically came right out of her skin. “Don’t rush it, Princess,” he cautioned as his warm breath tumbled over her skin. “It’s always better when you wait.”
She spun around to throw herself right into those arms, to take the very affection he was withholding, but he moved away in the same fluid motion. She was strung tight like a string on a violin, waiting to fulfill all the sexy promises this dark stranger kept making with his tempting body. “Is that what this is all about then?” she asked.
He had his back to her, facing instead the mountain of groceries he had brought. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, and even though she couldn’t see it she knew damn well he was grinning. “I thought you hired me to teach you to cook.”
She walked over to where he stood, placing her hands on either side of the counter, exactly like he had done. She pressed her chest into his rigid back and whispered against his spicy smelling neck, “Is that all you want to teach me, Mateo?”
She grinned wide when she realized he was no longer focused on the groceries. His eyes had fluttered closed, and she could sense he was doing his level best to control his breathing. She stood on her tiptoes, rubbing herself against him as she whispered against his ear. “What else do you have to offer an unsatisfied girl like me?”
Her hands slipped around his waist, dipping lower to cup that growing bulge in his jeans. Deftly he took one of her wrists in his hand and spun it behind her back as he turned to face her fully. If she didn’t know better, he looked almost angry. “I told you, Miss Prescott, I don’t play with another boy’s toys.”
She couldn’t think. He had her arm bent behind her back, forcing her soft curves against his rigid, unyielding body. His mouth was a kiss away, but he was reluctant to take what she offered with a nervous lick of her lips. She was, however, rewarded by the shudder that passed through him.
“What do you want from me?” he asked softly.
“What do you want from me?” she countered.
He bent closer, the heat of his open mouth warming her lips. Finally he answered, “Your check,” with a smile that indicated he had once again gained control of his senses.
She spun out of his arms. “You egotistical son of a bitch.”
He grinned as he reached for the cup of tea she made. He licked his lips as he devoured her with his eyes. “Wow,” he finally said.
Even as mad as she was, she beamed under his praise. Until he ruined it with, “There’s hope for you yet, Princess.”
She stomped off toward the bedroom, half-hoping he’d follow her. Instead he made her once again come to him, only this time she plopped down a check for $50,000 onto the countertop. “There,” she said. “That pays for your ‘instruction’ for the next nine months, until I get married. Which, for your information, is the only time I will belong to any man.”
He leaned back against the counter. “Are you serious?”
“I’m always serious,” she informed him.
He held up the check. “And just what are you expecting for this sum of money?”
“You tell me,” she said, using his own pat answer against him. “You are the teacher. What exactly do you think I can learn in nine months?”
He walked over to where she stood. “You can learn to cook,” he told her pointedly. “Nothing else is for sale. Including me.” He started to exit the kitchen so she added, “You can say no, of course. But then I might call your work ethic into question, and, by extension… your sister’s. If you leave, I may have to rethink my using her for my wedding. And that paycheck looks a lot like this one, does it not?”
He turned back to face her from the doorway. “You honestly think you can control all us little people with your money, don’t you?”
“No,” she answered flatly. “You could say no. Go back to boring ol’ Lissette and her connections.” She advanced where he stood. “But good luck forgetting about me,” she promised with a smile.
“Now who’s sure of herself, Princess?”
“I’m sure you want to fuck me,” she answered directly, rewarded by how his eyes darkened from her boldness.
He leaned close. “I’d do more than fuck you,” he promised. “I’d ruin you for any other weak-kneed little rich boy you could bend to your will. And you know it, don’t you? You know I’d do more than just sleep with you, Peyton. I’d make you mine.”
She snaked her hand around his neck. “Then do it, damn you.” She pulled him down for a kiss but he was too strong. He lifted her up easily into his arms and slammed her against the wall behind her.
“Maybe someday,” he promised. “But not today.”
He released her and she slid down the wall, chasing after him the minute her feet hit the floor. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” she screamed at his departing back. “You aren’t even done with your cooking lesson!”
He swiveled back to her at the door, swinging on her so quickly she took two steps back out of instinct. “Tonight’s lesson wasn’t about cooking, Princess,” he said with that cockeyed grin.
Her eyes widened. “What are you talking about? What exactly were you teaching me?”
He grabbed her by her waist, pulling her up into his arms. When his mouth landed on hers, she couldn’t breathe. It was hot and tasted of mint as his tongue darted between her lips. It was an angry kiss that demanded her full submission. She wilted into his arms as she allowed him to deepen the kiss, but it was over almost as soon as it had begun.
His eyes were dark and stormy as he released her. “I’m teaching you what you need to learn,” he said. “See you next Tuesday.”
With that, he was gone.
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