Walking past Mirella, Dragon nodded at her, his lips curved up in a smile and a twinkle in his light-blue eyes.
“Dragon,” Valentine growled low, eliciting a chuckle from the Solarian, who mock-saluted him and chose to sit in the front row before the dais.
“How was your day, my Blessed Bride?” Valentine reached for her hand.
“My day was fine, my Fifth Moon’s husband.” Mirella didn’t feel particularly forgiving, but she would’ve never caused a scene before an audience—and especially before the redhead courtesan who was listening to every word they said. She let him take her hand and even tilted her head coyly and smiled at him the sweetest of smiles she could summon.
“I’m glad to hear.” Repressing a chuckle, he caressed her wrist with his thumb, tracing small circles. He relaxed sideways in his chair, draping his long leg over the armrest and dangling his riding boot. His hazel eyes locked with hers. “Remember the night we met I expressed the desire to hear you sing?”
Mirella’s breath escaped her mouth in a gasp before she could control her reaction. Her body blushed in the most intimate of places, and she felt the urge to cross her legs, but it would be uncouth in polite society. Then she thought that a room full of courtesans wouldn’t count as polite society, but she still was the Blessed Bride and remained still. The heat consuming her radiated to her décolleté, making her blush a deeper red. “That is such an inappropriate suggestion to make—”
She couldn’t finish commenting on his audacity because after the final crescendo the musico raised his wand, plunging the parlor into a moment of silence. A thunderous applause followed as the crowd asked for an encore. Startling everyone back into silence, Valentine pushed himself out of his chair and stood, commanding the room’s full attention once again.
“My Blessed Bride has a surprise for all of you—” He let his words linger for a moment as he looked around and smiled.
The heat that had scorched Mirella a moment ago had now morphed into cold ice, freezing her to the bones.
Valentine returned his gaze to her, the hazel in his eyes a smoldering yellow. “Sing for me, kitten,” he whispered low only for Mirella, sending shivers all over her body. Then out loud he said, “My Blessed Bride will entertain our guests with her beautiful voice.”
Outraged, Mirella opened her mouth to defy him, but Ronda’s viperous smile and expectant expression convinced her to stand up and tilt her head in consent.
Chapter Seventeen
Valentine watched as his bride’s face changed color before his eyes. Her reaction greatly amused him.
He knew Mirella could sing because he had heard her intoning the same exact melody in her sleep the night before. After leaving her in her bedroom, a few hours later he came back to check on her and found her slumbering on the bench before the painting. She was humming Cielo Chiaro while hugging herself. After covering her with a blanket, Valentine lowered himself to the floor and listened to his bride sing as she slept. While restocking the fire, he accidentally missed the stand and dropped the wrought iron poker. The sudden noise disturbed Mirella’s nap and she stirred on the bench, stretching her legs and arching her body.
After contemplating the idea to make her his on that bench, he left before she would discover him and headed to his apartments, hoping to be able to rest a few hours before his meeting with Dragon. Sleep eluded him and he went for a stroll.
In retrospect, he should’ve stayed in his room.
After the unpleasant exchange with Dragon in the Oval nook, and the following debacle with Mirella—he had fond memories of the spanking though—the rest of the day proved to be rather long. His thoughts alternated between images of his bride’s delectable backside bared to his hand, getting pinker and pinker with every spank he administered, and homicidal intentions toward the High Lord. To his distaste, Valentine had to admit—at least to himself—his reaction had been highly exaggerated.
When Aldo had informed Valentine that the Blessed Bride was to host her first high tea, he had cancelled the hunt scheduled for the first hours of the afternoon and walked Dragon around the property for a few hours instead.
Valentine had never cared for high teas or any of the other social formalities celebrated at his house, but he would not miss this occasion.
He had not been disappointed. His Blessed Bride looked like a queen holding court.
Taking Mirella’s hand and raising it high, he escorted her to the dais, slowly advancing through the parting crowd. Low murmurs could be heard around the room, the anticipation mounting to an excited buzz.
The puzzled musico stood to the side to let the Blessed Bride pass, then stepped farther toward the edge when Valentine climbed on the dais as well. “Will you be playing, Master Lobo?”
Valentine saw the surprise on Mirella’s face and couldn’t help but chuckle. “I will, Giovanni. Thank you for the beautiful rendition of Canto D’Amore, nobody plays a sonata like you do.”
“You honor me with your high praise, Master Lobo.” The musico bowed one last time and left the dais.
Sitting at the bench, Valentine looked up at Mirella who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. “Do you know Cielo Chiaro?” he asked.
Frowning, she said, “It’s my favorite song.”
“Good, then you won’t have any problem singing along while I play.” He took the wand Giovanni had left for him on the music rack and tuned the aerial clavichord to his liking. A few notes later, he raised the wand and asked Mirella, “Ready?”
Her emerald eyes shone coldly in the braziers’ light, but her lips were wet and pink, reminding him of a succulent passionberry.
“Do I have a choice?” she asked while serenely smiling.
“You always do.” He waited for Mirella to understand the meaning of his statement, and when she did, her expression matched the turmoil she must have been feeling. With a wink, he leaned backward and subtly pointed at her rump. Then he lowered the wand and caressed the keyboard with long strokes followed by short movements of his wrist. The air was charged with the clavichord’s evocative sounds, and he nodded at Mirella when it was her turn to start singing.
He had known she could sing, but wasn’t prepared for her flawless pitch that married the lyrics with the music in perfect harmony. His virtuosity barely matched the beauty of her soprano voice. Her mastery of her vocal chords was such that he was soon engaged in a lively duet with her, stretching his musical skills to their limits to be on a par with her singing.
The suggestive words of Cielo Chiaro, the ancient Italian words stood for ‘clear sky,’ painted the story of a tormented affair between star-crossed lovers who meet one final time in a meadow under a clear sky. Valentine had liked the song before, but hearing the love story sung by Mirella gave the sonata a whole different meaning. He felt the lovers’ ache and desperation as if it were his own.
Several beats later, the song reached its conclusion, and Mirella held the last note for several heartbeats. Her chest heaving and her eyes shining with tears, she looked at Valentine and concluded her performance with the sweetest of whispers, the last words of a lady to her lover. Ti amerò per sempre. I will love you forever.
The captive audience regaled them with a standing ovation, and there were several bright eyes and sniffles among the courtesans.
“You are divine,” Valentine said, unable to stop staring at his bride.
In his entire life, he had never seen anything as beautiful as Mirella was in that precise moment, with all her emotions displayed on her face. A raw and primal urge to possess her burned inside him and he snatched her wrist before she could leave the dais.
Breathless, she lowered her eyes to his hand circling her small bones. “Thank you.”
He wouldn’t ruin her high tea by throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her to the closest empty room to satisfy his growing ache, but he had to restrain himself nonetheless.
The crowd didn’t dare ask for a repeat performance, but both courtesans and
men offered their compliments to the Blessed Bride. As Valentine walked them back to their seats, Mirella humbly accepted the heartfelt praises, a light pink coloring her cheeks.
“Have you ever sung in public before?” He helped her down to her high-back chair.
“No, this was my first time.” Mirella brought one hand to her chest and pressed her palm over her heart.
“Would you like something to drink?” He eyed one of the servants diligently waiting by the wall.
“Some valerian tea would be perfect,” she answered. The vein crossing her collarbone pulsed fast and her breathing was irregular. Her chest swelled against her corset, and she raised her hand to her throat.
When the servant rushed to Valentine’s side, he ordered the hot beverage and also instructed the boy to add chamomile blossom to the brewing pot. He then turned toward Mirella and reached for her hand. “My nana used to prepare a cup of chamomile every night and she would read me a story while I drank the tea.”
“You had a nana—” She stopped, then started again. “I can’t imagine you as a child.”
“You’d be surprised, but I was an adorable cub.”
“Says your nana.”
“She loved me very much, but I was indeed adorable.” Sitting sideways on the chair to better look at her, he leaned his temple against the backrest. “How long does a blasted high tea last?”
She laughed. “Two or three hours.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed out loud. “What happens next?”
Shaking her head, she kept laughing at his antics. “Polite conversation, maybe charades. Perhaps a game of dama?”
“I’ve never played checkers—”
“Really?”
“I have an empire to reign with an iron fist if you haven’t noticed.” He wished he were joking.
“That hasn’t prevented you from engaging in draglet racing and other such dangerous nonsenses,” she softly said, then her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—”
He squeezed her hand to hush her. “You meant every word you said, but you weren’t disrespectful, so I’ll let it pass.” Lowering his eyes to the general direction of her nether regions, he arched his brow seductively, his lips curving up.
Her eyes lit with a fiery light, but she kept whatever she thought for herself.
Valentine couldn’t help but smile at her. His Blessed Bride was a kitten, but also a tigress. Her dual nature came out whenever he ruffled her feathers or took her by surprise. He liked that she was unpredictable and passionate.
Coming from behind them with light steps, Aldo approached Mirella. “Do you want me to rearrange the tables for the board games? Or you prefer some other activity?”
“Do you like charades?” Mirella asked Valentine.
Crossing his ankles, he answered, “I have no patience for any of those activities.”
“Very well then.” She nodded at him, then told Aldo, “Please, reposition the tables around the room and bring the board games.”
Chapter Eighteen
Her first high tea was a success, but Mirella was of the mind to change the schedule from once a week to once a month. Especially if her husband showed up and required her to sing before everyone each time.
The experience had been exhilarating though. Several hours later, her heart still raced against her ribcage, and she felt full of energy.
Valentine had remained for another hour, then left with Dragon. Adris’ merchants had requested a meeting with the High Lord to discuss interplanetary commerce. Before departing, he brought her fingers to his lips for a gallant kiss.
After a light dinner she consumed in her quarters, she dismissed Laura for the night.
Looking at the point of her black shoes, the girl pleaded, “Blessed Bride, I can’t leave you—”
Mirella sighed. “I won’t go anywhere. Don’t worry.”
The girl still didn’t move. “Should you change your mind—”
“I’ll make sure to wake you.”
Once her lady’s maid was finally gone, Mirella retired to the en-suite bathroom and ran a wild lavender scented bath. Before entering the warm water, she took a long look at herself in the cheval mirror by the sink. Valentine had marked her externally, but he was also changing her inside, and she couldn’t understand how or why he had such power over her.
She relaxed in the tub, a cup of valerian and chamomile blossoms on the tray next to her. Between sips of the calming brew, her mind kept going back to the enigma that was her wolf. He was a knight one moment, and a beast the next. She couldn’t deny she was equally attracted to both sides of Valentine, but she was also disconcerted by how fast her attachment to him had been growing in such a short amount of time.
As the bath soothed her tense body, she used a soft sponge to lather her skin with soap, caressing her mounds and valleys. Memories of her husband’s expert hands filled her thoughts. She closed her eyes and imagined that her fingers were his, but it wasn’t the same.
Frustrated, she ended her bath short and went to dry herself before the roaring fireplace. Looking at the painting calmed her somewhat, and once she wasn’t dripping water any longer, she lay on the bench.
Coral’s deep pink rays woke her the next morning. Again, Laura had covered her during the night. Breakfast was waiting for her in the breakfast nook. Wrapping the blanket tight around her shoulders, Mirella walked to the high table and hopped on the white leather stool.
Carrying folded clothes in her arms, a servant girl followed Laura into the bedroom. The servant girl noticed Mirella before Laura did, and bowed low.
Laura steered the girl out of the room, saying, “I apologize, Blessed Bride. I thought you were still sleeping.”
Mirella had enough of the constant bowing and apologizing done around her. “The girl can stay. Finish what you are doing.” When two sets of horrified eyes stared back at her, she added, “I don’t mind her presence, and I actually like to see human beings once in a while.”
“Is your husband included in the list?” Valentine asked from the arched entryway.
Master Lobo could be stealthy when he wanted. Mirella had not heard him coming.
Biting the salacious answer she had ready, Mirella nodded. “Good morning, husband.”
“Would you care for a trip to Adris?” he asked, his long frame leaning against the door. His arms were folded on his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles.
“I’d love that very much.” She jumped on the stool and the blanket slid down her shoulders, uncovering the swell of her breasts.
Valentine’s eyes changed color for a moment, a red gleam juxtaposing the green in his hazel pupils, and he licked his lower lip with a predatory expression. He blinked and smiled next. “Break your fast, then wear the cobalt riding dress with the matching high boots.”
Mirella thought hard, but she couldn’t remember the outfit he had described in her closet. “I don’t have a cobalt riding dress—”
“Yes you do.” With that repartee, he turned on his boots and left.
Sure enough, when she entered her walk-in closet she found two rectangular black boxes on the central stand. The dress, like all the rest of the garments that had populated her closet seemingly overnight, was of exquisite manufacture, and it fit her figure as if the seamstress had taken her measures. The boots were of the softest leather and of the same shade of cobalt as the dress, adorned with black details. Laura helped her with the strings on the front of the bodice, then arranged her hair for the occasion in a tight double braid.
An hour later, she was riding astride Valentine’s airbike, sitting in the front with one of his arms circling her waist and keeping her pressed to him. Her first ride with him had been a tumultuous experience for more than one reason, but she now intended to enjoy the trip to its fullest.
It was a four-hour roundtrip from Lobo Mansion to the center of Adris, so the excursion would take most of the day. Inhaling the wild aroma of the sage bushes, she relaxed.
“
What about Dragon?” she asked, taking in the desert landscape with its orange and yellow dunes and purple cacti.
“What about him?” His deep voice rumbled in his chest.
“Weren’t you supposed to entertain him today?”
“We both needed a day free from each other.”
“What happened?” After the confrontation she had witnessed the day before, dread filled Mirella.
“Nothing happened. Why are you so interested in that ugly barbarian?”
Mirella was smart enough to understand that correcting Valentine on Dragon’s looks wasn’t a good idea. “I’m simply worried you might’ve drawn the wrong conclusion in seeing us yesterday—”
“You were alone with another man.”
“Nothing happened—”
“He would be dead if it had.” His hand pressed lower, his fingers dipping under her navel.
She gasped.
“The day is beautiful,” he said. “I’d rather enjoy the scenery in peace.”
She mimed zipping her mouth shut with her fingers.
Even from behind her, he still saw what she was doing and laughed. “Good kitten.”
His fingers traveled down to her thigh and bunched the fabric of her riding skirt up, exposing the inside of her leg to the wind. She shivered in anticipation as he took her earlobe into his mouth, grazing at the skin with his teeth.
He found the narrow band of her silky garter, but skipped it to reach farther up. Inching slowly toward her center, he teased her by brushing her skin, then lightly pinching her only to caress the spot a moment later. His lips nibbled at the contour of her jaw and she turned toward him to offer her mouth, which he took with slow abandon as his hand continued its maddening slow journey. The howling wind lashed at her exposed body, but it was Valentine who left her breathless.
He could drive her crazy in a matter of minutes.
When his fingertip skimmed the lace of her drawers, he growled. “You sure don’t listen.” Without warning, he grabbed the flimsy fabric and tore it away. “How many undergarments do I have to destroy before you obey?”
The Fifth Moon's Wolf (The Fifth Moon's Tales) Page 10
