by Tina Folsom
Lights were ablaze when he entered, and voices and laughter drifted to him through the open door of the parlor.
“Dante?” his brother Raphael called out to him.
“Not now.” Dante headed for the stairs, but his brother was already at the door and stepped into the foyer.
“Rumor has it you had a fight at the—” His brother interrupted him. “Did you have to bring dinner home? I thought we’d discussed—”
Dante swiveled and faced his brother. “She’s not dinner.” He was surprised at the defensive tone in his own voice.
“I smell blood.”
“She’s injured.”
Behind him, Isabella emerged. “What’s going on?” His sister-in-law looked as ravishing as ever. Dante noticed how Raphael instantly took her hand in his. Honeymooners, Dante grumbled internally.
“Nothing. I’m merely helping an injured woman.”
At that, even Isabella raised an eyebrow. It appeared that his new sister-in-law had already figured out he wasn’t the good Samaritan kind.
“Since when are you so charitable, Dante?” his brother mocked.
Dante took a deep breath. “May I remind you that this is my house too, and that it’s my business what I do?”
“Granted. However, I’d like to assure myself of the girl’s safety while she’s in our house.”
Dante’s patience snapped. “Well, look at my suddenly proper brother. No offense, Isabella, but it appears your husband has forgotten what he was like before he married you. I distinctly remember that—”
“Be that as it may, but things have changed.” Raphael led Isabella’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “We agreed that we wouldn’t subject Isabella to the more gruesome aspects of our kind. And that includes bringing unsuspecting humans into our home and—”
Dante took a step closer. “And what?” Then he looked down at Viola’s face, which was cradled against his chest. “I mean her no harm. If you must know, she tried to take her own life tonight.”
Isabella gasped in shock. “Oh, no. Poor girl!”
“What happened?” Raphael asked, his voice full of compassion now.
Dante closed his eyes, warring with himself about how much to tell his brother. “She was a virgin. But she lied to me and told me that she was a widow looking for some … carnal diversions.” He looked at Isabella’s face, wondering how much more he should say. His brother’s wife merely listened with bated breath. “It wasn’t … well, it wasn’t pleasant for her. She tried to kill herself ten minutes later. I was lucky to stop her. The bullet only grazed her temple.”
For a moment, nobody spoke. The silence in the foyer was deafening.
He waited for a snide remark from his brother, but it didn’t come. “What, no comeback?” Dante asked.
“You’d better take her upstairs. I’ll inform the servants to watch what they say. I’m assuming she doesn’t know what you are?” Raphael’s voice was calm and collected.
Dante shook his head. “No. It’s bad enough she thinks sex is a terrible thing. How do you think she’ll react if she realized one of our kind took her virginity?”
He gazed into Viola’s face and drew her tighter to his body. She seemed so fragile, and he felt like a beast that had attacked her.
And he wanted to do it again.
Chapter Seven
Viola felt a warm cocoon surround her and snuggled deeper into the softness. She hadn’t expected the afterlife to feel so soft and warm. In fact, she’d rather thought that her desperate act of committing suicide would make her go to hell. But this didn’t feel like hell. There was no smell of sulfur. Instead, she could smell a lingering scent of cologne—a man’s cologne—and a little smoke from a fire burning nearby. It was odd.
She opened her eyes to take in her new surroundings. Shock made her sit up.
She was in a large four poster bed in the middle of a richly decorated bedchamber—a very masculine bedchamber.
“Ah, you’re finally awake.”
Viola snapped her head toward the male voice and froze. Dante. He sat in an armchair near the fireplace and now rose to walk toward the bed. She grabbed the sheets and pressed them against her body, realizing instantly that she only wore her chemise.
“I had to make you more comfortable.” His tone was apologetic, and even his eyes looked sincere.
“Where am I?” she pressed out, panic gripping her. Had he kidnapped her? What had happened? She distinctly remembered pressing the gun against her temple and pulling the trigger.
Dante reached the bed and sat down at the edge. Viola eyed him suspiciously. “You’re in my home. I didn’t know where you lived, so I brought you here.”
Instinctively her hand went to her temple. She felt a tiny abrasion, but nothing else.
His eyes followed her hand. “The bullet only grazed you. I jerked it from your hand.”
Her heart pounded at the knowledge that he knew what she’d done and that he’d prevented her from succeeding. “How dare you?”
“Excuse me?” His forehead crinkled with confusion.
“You heard me. How dare you stop me? It was my choice.” She hit him with a furious glare.
“Choice?” He stood up with a start. “You didn’t know what you were doing. You can’t just kill yourself over something so trivial.”
“Trivial?”
“Yes, trivial. No woman’s first sexual experience is all that enjoyable. Don’t you know that?”
He thought she’d wanted to kill herself because it had hurt when he’d penetrated her? She’d had to deal with more severe pain in her life than the little ache that had lasted only a few seconds. How self-absorbed was he? “You pompous, arrogant rake! This has nothing to do with you.”
Dante glared at her. “It has everything to do with me. There’s no need to lie to me. In fact, it would be better for all involved if you told me the truth. You’re obviously not a widow. I guess we’ve already established that.”
Viola didn’t like his commanding tone and decided not to make this easy for him. Maybe he thought he could command other women around, but not her. “I could very well have been married and still be a virgin if—”
He suddenly was at the bed and cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Lying doesn’t become you. So stop, or I’ll have to do this to shut you up.” He pressed a kiss on her lips, a kiss so brief she could barely enjoy the sensation.
“I didn’t give you leave to kiss me!” she protested and pushed him away, dropping the bed sheet in the process.
“You gave me leave to do a lot more than that.” He grinned and lowered his gaze to her breasts.
With a jerky movement, she covered herself with the sheet. “Go, sit on that chair over there.” She wanted him as far away as possible. When he was so close with his male scent wrapping around her, she couldn’t think clearly. Why else would she want to pull him into bed with her and ask him to kiss her again the way he’d done before he’d used his enormous manhood on her?
The look he gave her could only be described as brooding. “If you wish.” Dante let himself fall into the armchair and stared at her.
“Now, if you tell me where my garments and my bag and pistol are, I’ll be getting ready to leave.”
“You will do no such thing.”
Viola narrowed her eyes. “Are you keeping me captive?”
“It’s for your own safety. As for your pistol: you must be crazy to think I’d simply hand a deadly weapon back to you after you tried to kill yourself with it. No, you, young lady, are staying here until I can make sure you won’t try it again.”
She inhaled sharply. “This is not up to you. My life is mine, and I’ll do with it as I please.”
“Not if I can help it,” Dante snapped and rose. He looked like a caged tiger as he approached the bed again. Instinctively, she scrambled toward the other side of the bed.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do a lot more than that. For starters, I’m
going to show you that sex can be just as pleasurable for a woman as it is for a man. And once you realize that, you won’t have any reason left to take your own life.”
Viola simply stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. The man had an entirely overblown sense of self-centeredness which wouldn’t allow his addled brain to understand that he wasn’t the reason for her desire to leave this world. And of course, she wouldn’t tell him the truth. It was none of his darn business. Besides, she wanted nobody’s pity. As for him proving to her that sex was pleasurable for women ... “How will you do that?”
Sometimes she wished her brain was faster than her tongue, because clearly she’d spoken too soon again. Judging by his smug grin, he was enjoying the situation.
“Very slowly and very thoroughly.” The look he raked over her made her shiver. God help her if he meant it.
“You can’t—”
“—do that?” he finished her sentence and jumped onto the bed on all fours. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”
A second later, Dante was straddling her hips and pressing her back into the pillows, his face only inches from her. Viola’s body heated, and her pulse raced. Knowing how she had reacted to his kisses and his touch before made it impossible for her to push him away. She felt paralyzed.
His knuckles stroked softly over her cheek. “As we both know, I’m stronger than you. So, save your breath for when you find yourself panting for release. But now, I’ll have the servants prepare a bath for you. And once you’re done, I’ll expect you downstairs for a meal.”
Her fighting instinct hadn’t left her yet. If he thought she was easily intimidated, he didn’t yet know how stubborn she was. “I will do no such thing.”
“Fine, then I’ll bathe you myself.”
Shock coursed through her. “You wouldn’t—”
His grin stopped her. He would.
“Fine.”
“Now, that’s a good girl,” he praised, or was he mocking her?
When he jumped off the bed, she should have been relieved, but her body instantly missed his warmth.
He walked to the door. “And if you take too long with your bath because you’re trying to avoid me, I will pull you out of the tub myself and dry you off.”
When he let the door snap in behind him, Viola threw a pillow at it. “You are not as irresistible as you think!” she mumbled under her breath and could have sworn she heard him chuckle as he walked down the stairs. Yet, there was no way he could have heard her through the closed door.
Chapter Eight
“Are you crazy?” Raphael ground out.
Dante shrugged and kicked his foot against the grill of the fireplace, making the fire hiss in response. “What would you have me do? Let her loose, and have her try it again? I won’t do that.”
“You’re surprisingly protective about the girl. It’s not like you. Are you sure you’re quite alright?” Raphael’s insolent grin did nothing to calm Dante’s constitution.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve gone soft since you got married.”
“You do know I can hear you, Dante, don’t you?” Isabella’s voice came from the sofa.
“I was merely trying to get your husband off my back, dearest.”
“So he wouldn’t question your actions?” she asked.
“I’m my own master. What I do shouldn’t be any of your or your husband’s concern.”
“What of the girl?” Raphael interjected and took a seat next to his wife.
“I promise that no harm will come to her. I’m not a complete bastard.”
“That remains to be seen,” Viola’s voice came from the door.
Dante jerked from his seat and spun around. She walked into the room, wearing the gown she’d worn earlier, the same he’d stripped her off many hours ago. The memory of it was still fresh and made his pulse race. He tamped down his heated reaction to her presence.
“I would have left, but it appears somebody bolted the door accidentally, and I can’t find a way to open it.” She turned toward Raphael, who’d risen from the sofa. “Maybe you would assist me so I can take my leave? My parents will be worried that I’ve been gone so long.”
Her smile was sugary sweet, but Dante knew Viola was anything but. And he wouldn’t fall for it.
“Raphael di Santori,” his brother introduced himself. “Dante is my brother.” Then Raphael turned to his wife who’d moved to his side. “My wife Isabella.”
“Pleasure. Viola Costa. I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. If you please, I’d like to return to my accommodations.” She gave another sweet smile and shifted her body toward the door.
Her last words echoed through Dante’s head. She wanted to return to her accommodations, not her home. Odd. He took a gamble. “If you allow me, Viola, I’ll be happy to accompany you to your hotel to make sure you’re safe. Where are you staying?”
“The Aristo—” She snapped her mouth shut quickly, but Dante had heard enough.
“Just as I thought. You’re not going home to your parents. I’d venture a guess that your parents have no idea where you are.” By the way her cheeks colored, Dante knew he was right. “Well, well. In that case, I’m sorry, my young lady, but I feel it is my duty to keep you here under my supervision where no harm can come to you. I’ll be happy to contact your parents in the meantime so they may come to collect you.”
Viola narrowed her eyes. “That won’t be necessary. I will find my own way home.”
“No, no. I insist. Once your parents have arrived, I’ll be more than happy to release you into their care.” He turned to his bother. “I think that’s the least we can do as hospitable Venetians, don’t you think so, Raphael?”
For once, his brother agreed, albeit with a frown on his face. “I’m afraid it would be unwise to allow a young lady without a chaperone or a companion to leave our house. If you give me your parents’ name and address I will personally send a messenger and make them aware of your whereabouts, Miss Costa.”
Viola huffed and took a few steps toward Dante. He’d hit the nail on the head. She was a runaway and had no intention of being found. Just as well because he wanted her here with him. Until, well ... until he was done with her.
“You, you ...” Her skin glistened, and her lovely bosom heaved with every breath she took. With her index finger, she jabbed him in the chest. “You, you …”
“Running out of words, my dear?” Dante snatched her finger and led it to his lips, giving it a soft peck. “Now, how about some food? All that lying must have made you hungry.”
Viola huffed once more and turned away. Dante couldn’t help but laugh. She was too much fun to spar with. Damn, he liked that in a woman.
Isabella put a hand on Viola’s arm. “Come, Miss Costa. Cook prepared a nice spread for us. Let’s leave the men to their talk.”
***
Viola had no choice. She could not allow Dante or his brother to contact her parents. If they did, her parents would shepherd her home despite her earlier threat that she would cause a scandal. By the time they’d all be back in Florence too much time would have passed, and her health would have deteriorated enough for her to have no strength left to execute her threat. And her parents knew that. No, she could not risk a message to be sent to them. Let them believe she was in Switzerland.
If only she’d thought before she’d spoken, but Dante had immediately caught onto her slip of the tongue when she’d admitted that she was staying at a hotel. He’d beaten her at her own game.
She would have to devise a strategy to gain back some ground, but first, she needed to eat. She felt famished. Her stomach growled on command.
“You must be starving,” Isabella said and pointed to a chair opposite hers at a large dining table.
Viola took the seat and folded the napkin over her lap. “I’m not sure why though. I already had supper.”
“Not tonight. You slept for almost twenty hours after Dante brought—”
Startled, Viola stared at he
r. “I’ve been here since yesterday?”
“You were unconscious when Dante put you to bed. I dare say, he was quite worried about you. It’s not like him.” There was a puzzled look on Isabella’s face. She was a stunningly beautiful woman with silken skin, mesmerizing green eyes, and long dark hair which was piled loosely onto her head.
“He has no reason to worry about me. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
“Since you raise that subject, why did you attempt to kill yourself?”
Viola clenched her jaw. She hadn’t expected the outwardly pleasant woman to be so blunt. “Nobody in this household seems to have any tact.”
Isabella made a dismissive hand movement. “Oh, that. Blame my husband and his brother. Their behavior tends to rub off on others. We are a very unconventional household to say the least.”
“Does that mean Dante kidnaps unsuspecting women quite often?” She crinkled her nose and lifted her chin in a blasé kind of way. If the lady of the house couldn’t keep up proper decorum, why should she? She was merely a prisoner, not even a guest.
“Whatever you want to know about Dante, I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you. But it’s not my place to do so.” Then she changed the subject. “Do you enjoy the pheasant?”
Viola chewed the divine meat thoroughly and swallowed. “Passable.”
“I’ll have cook prepare something different tomorrow if you’re not into fowl.”
“I’ll be gone by tomorrow, so don’t trouble yourself.” They couldn’t watch her every second of the day and night. She’d sneak out soon when their defenses were down. But in the meantime, she took another fork full of meat. There was no reason to go hungry.
“Making plans without me, Viola?” Dante drawled from the door.
How had he managed to sneak up on them like that? She didn’t give him the satisfaction of showing him how startled she was by his appearance and took another bite instead.
“Well, eat up then, my sweet, we’re going out. I’ll see you in the foyer in five minutes.”
