by Folsom, Tina
“Fuck!” he moaned out. “You shouldn’t …”
Was he trying to protest? Yet, his hips bucked toward her, fucking into her mouth in a steady rhythm. His hands combed through her hair, holding her steady rather than forcing her down on him. Some of her lovers used to direct her head so that they could fuck her face, and she’d always hated it. But Lorenzo used his hands to caress her scalp, to stroke her, not to pound her head against his groin so she would take him deeper.
She appreciated that in him and thanked him by increasing her sucking motion and working him deeper into her mouth.
“Bianca, no. Stop.”
Suddenly his hands tugged at her hair, pulling her head away from him, making his cock slip from her mouth. She stared at him, her eyes widening in surprise, and looked into the face of a distraught man.
“I can’t do this,” he claimed and shook his head.
She gave his cock a pointed look. By her estimations, he was about ten seconds from climaxing. “Of course, you can.” Was he anxious about coming in her mouth?
He shook his head and disentangled his limbs from her, scooting to the edge of the bed, where he dropped his legs to the ground, turning his back to her. “I can’t do this. I don’t want your body.”
He’d changed his mind? He was going to throw her out after all? A breath dislodged from her lungs and traveled upwards. She tensed her body, not wanting it to escape sounding like a sob. Had she done something wrong? Did he not like the way she’d sucked him?
“You can stay for a few days until we’ve figured something out. But you can’t be my mistress. Rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He leapt from the bed and gathered his clothes so fast, she had no chance to hold him back. A moment later, the door closed behind him. She was alone. And Lorenzo didn’t want her body.
That knowledge was like a slap in the face.
Chapter Seven
Something was seriously wrong with him. Lorenzo bolted for the next room and sought shelter from his warring emotions and from the enthralling naked Bianca in the next bedchamber. When had he ever developed scruples about fucking a woman? This wasn’t the first time he was taking advantage of somebody, and it wasn’t going to be the last.
Exactly, his cock chimed in. So, let’s go back in there and do it.
Lorenzo stared down at his hard-on and felt like slapping it into submission. He wasn’t going back into that bedchamber and take advantage of a young woman who’d had no choice but to offer her body to him so she would have a roof over her head. Not even he would sink that low.
He yanked his trousers up and pulled his shirt on, fastening the buttons quickly before he could change his mind. God, Bianca had gone so far as to suck him with those amazing lips, running her tongue along his shaft so tenderly, he’d thought he would burst. While he knew she wasn’t an innocent and clearly not a virgin, no decent woman should be subjected to having to service a stranger in such manner, no matter what hard times she’d fallen onto. It wasn’t her fault that her father had gambled away all the money.
Lorenzo stopped in his thoughts. He’d left money with the solicitor to give to the daughter so she would have something to tide her over. Had the bastard pocketed the money himself and not given it to her? Was that why she was destitute? No. Now he remembered. Bianca hadn’t even seen the solicitor yet. She’d arrived and come straight to the house. No wonder she didn’t know about the money, didn’t realize she wasn’t completely penniless. This could be corrected.
He would send word to Signore Mancini, making him aware that Bianca was temporarily staying at his house and that he should have the money delivered to her there. That would take care of it. Once she had the money, surely she’d be more than happy to depart and leave him to his debauchery.
Once she was gone, he would be no danger to her anymore. But right now she was in danger of him taking the last bit of her innocence and if he lost control, the last drop of her blood. And she didn’t deserve that, particularly because Lorenzo actually liked her.
Her strength when she’d been confronted with the news that the house wasn’t hers anymore had impressed him, and her determination to do anything to survive was admirable. He couldn’t bring himself to break the spirit of such a woman. It wasn’t her fault that she was in the situation she was in. She shouldn’t have to be the one to pay for her father’s sins.
Lorenzo finished dressing and stalked down the dark stairs, ignoring the enticing scent drifting to him from her bedchamber. He needed to get out of the house for a few hours while night was still upon them. And maybe somehow he could come up with a plan to help Bianca pick up her life and make a new one now that her father was dead.
If he was lucky, he’d find Nico at one of his favorite hells and enlist him in making a few inquires for him.
Half an hour later, Lorenzo marched into a nightspot which was part brothel, part drinking hall, and picked up Nico’s scent. He breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the upper floor where small rooms lined the long, dark hallway. The smell of sex, sweat, and unwashed bodies assaulted his senses, making his body aroused and repulsed at the same time. He’d spent many a night at this establishment to slake the unquenchable lust that always coursed through his body. He’d never known any different. It was a difficult vice to control, particularly for a vampire like him. His heightened vampire senses made all temptations that were thrown at him even more irresistible. Once a long time ago, he’d given in and instead of simply giving his body what he needed, he’d opened his heart. Only to have it ripped out in the process.
Elle. He hadn’t thought of her in years; he’d suppressed the memory of her quite successfully for a very long time. He didn’t understand why he was thinking of her now, other than the fact that maybe Bianca had reminded him a little of her. The same round eyes that could mimic innocence quite effectively.
Elle had been such a sweet and giving woman, and he’d fallen so hard for her that he’d believed that she would accept him for what he was. When he’d confessed to her that he was a vampire, she’d simply closed her eyes for a moment, taken a deep breath, and then proclaimed that she loved him anyway.
What a big lie it had all been. In truth, she’d been disgusted with him the first time she’d surprised him when feeding, but she’d hidden it well. She’d still warmed his bed and lulled him into the belief that she loved him. And if he wasn’t such a light sleeper, he would have gone to his grave believing in her love.
But he’d woken, finding her standing next to his bed, ready to plunge a stake into his heart. At that moment, his entire world had collapsed. His heart had turned to stone. Yet, he hadn’t been able to kill her for her treachery. He’d still loved her. His only option had been to erase her memory from everything that had happened, but there had been too much to erase, and as a result, her mind had scrambled, and she’d turned crazy. She’d ended up in an insane asylum where she’d killed herself a few years later. All because of him.
While he still had to use his skill of wiping human’s memories when he fed from them, he made sure to rarely feed from the same person twice. But he’d never gotten involved with another human woman for fear the fate that had befallen Elle would be repeated. So he’d confined himself to mostly whores from whom he didn’t feed so he wouldn’t have to use his vampire powers over and over again. A prolonged involvement with a human was too dangerous in his eyes, the repeated erasing of his victims’ memories too risky. By separating sex from feeding, he had managed to keep himself under control and neither lose his head nor his heart.
Lorenzo pushed the memories of his past away and inhaled deeply to find Nico’s whereabouts. As so many nights, Nico was hard at work fucking his way through Venice, and Lorenzo had no qualms about interrupting him. It wasn’t like this was a novelty.
He pushed the door open without knocking and entered the dimly lit room. Nico’s head snapped toward him, his alert body instantly relaxing when he recognized his visitor.
He winked.
“Wanna join in?”
Did he? Lorenzo glanced at the woman, who was sprawled across the bed on her front, her ass high in the air as Nico’s hands held her hips tightly while he repeatedly thrust into her from his kneeling position behind her. Lorenzo smiled. It was one thing he and his friend had in common: they liked to take their women from behind for maximum impact.
“She can suck you,” Nico offered. “Won’t you, love?”
The woman lifted her head at his question and grinned at Lorenzo, revealing a crooked front tooth. While his cock was hard from the scent of arousal in the room, he merely shook his head. He wasn’t here for sex. Hell, if he’d wanted sex, he could have had it at home with a much more appealing partner.
Then why didn’t we? his over-eager appendage queried.
“Some other time,” he assured Nico. “I was wondering whether we could talk.”
“Sure, what’s going on?” Nico continued plunging into the woman while she dropped her head back down onto the pillow and moaned into it.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes. Fine with him if Nico thought he could concentrate on a conversation as well as on continuing to fuck like a champion. “Can you make some inquires for me?”
“About?” Nico gritted his teeth and grunted, his thrusts turning more ferocious as he went on.
“The house I bought, the heiress showed up tonight thinking it was still hers.”
“Oh?”
“I need to find out more about her. The name’s Bianca Greco. Can you check with your sources and find out where she came from and why she wasn’t with her father? And why she hasn’t been to see the solicitor yet.”
“Who’s the solicitor?” Nico asked and slapped the woman’s backside.
“Signore Mancini, his office is—”
“I know where he is. Not a problem.”
“I gave Mancini money for her. Have him send it to my house.”
“Your house?” Nico frowned.
“Yes, the woman is staying at my new house.”
Nico abruptly stopped in his motions and slipped out of the woman.
“What?” she complained.
“Later,” he pacified her, then stared back at Lorenzo. “She’s at your house?”
Lorenzo knew exactly why Nico was so surprised. Nobody ever stayed with him. All his sexual escapades were conducted at other people’s homes, at inns, or brothels. Never in his home. He tried to downplay the incident. “She had nowhere to go.”
Now Nico rose from the bed, oblivious to his nudity. Not that Lorenzo cared either way. “You have a woman staying at your house?”
“Don’t make it sound like this is such an extraordinary event.” It was, but he wasn’t going to quarrel with Nico about it.
“Tell me more. Why do you want me to investigate her? Could it be that you’re actually interested in a woman for something else than fucking?”
Lorenzo glared at his friend. “Don’t be an ass. I have no interest in her. All I want to know is whether there’s something I have to watch out for, considering she’s staying for a few days. It’s simply a security precaution.”
Hell, who was he kidding? Bianca intrigued him, and he wanted to know more about her background. Asking her outright was out of the question—he didn’t want to reveal to her that he was even remotely interested in her. What if she was some sort of gold digger, who figured she could get her father’s house back if she made nice with him and ensnared him in her net, hoping he’d marry her? He didn’t need those kinds of complications. It was better to be prepared.
Chapter Eight
Bianca woke around midday. It had been hard to get back to sleep after Lorenzo had left her aroused and unsatisfied. She’d never felt so empty. Why hadn’t he finished what he’d started? He’d been hard and had to have been aching for release, just like she had. Yet he’d denied them both what would have been a night of absolute pleasure.
She threw the covers back and dropped her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe she should be happy that he’d decided to behave like a gentleman after all and not insisted on her paying for her sojourn by acting as his mistress. In fact, she should be very happy about it. For once, she wouldn’t have to pay with her body. It was a welcome change. But it was confusing to say the least.
Bianca knew she had a good body. Plenty of men had told her so, and she’d even seen it in Lorenzo’s eyes when he’d gawked at her in her nudity. Had something repulsed him? Had he not wanted her to suck him? Darn, why was she even second-guessing herself? He didn’t want her to be his mistress. She should rejoice in that fact. And he hadn’t thrown her out yet, which meant she could do what she’d come to do: find the treasure.
With renewed determination, she jumped out of bed, careful not to make too much noise. She’d heard Lorenzo come back before sunrise and enter her father’s old room. It appeared that was where he’d made his bed for the night. He’d not attempted to sneak back into her bed, even though she’d half wished it. Bianca shook her head. It was stupid to think like that. She didn’t want him. He was merely a nuisance she had to deal with while she was searching for her father’s treasure. Nothing more.
Since she had taken a bath the night before, she washed very quickly with the cold water from the pitcher on the commode, cleaned her teeth and pulled out a clean dress from her bag. If what Lorenzo had said was true—that he slept during the day—then she would have the house to herself to search at her heart’s content. She didn’t want to waste another minute of it. The faster she found what she was looking for, the faster she’d be able to leave.
Bianca tiptoed past Lorenzo’s chamber and hurried down the stairs. She would start her search in the rooms furthest from where Lorenzo was sleeping. Since she’d already examined the kitchen the night before, and since it was the least likely place her father would have hidden anything, she skipped that room and headed for the parlor. Her father had spent much time in this room, and the ornate decorations throughout it provided plenty of opportunities to disguise a hidden compartment or a false floor.
Systematically, she went to work. What made the work somewhat tedious was the fact that she couldn’t simply rip things apart and leave them that way. Because Lorenzo was in the house, she needed to make sure he didn’t realize what she was doing. When she pried a loose wooden panel off the ornate cabinet that had been built into the wall and found only dust and cobwebs behind it, she had to jam it back into its old position. Bianca used her elbow to put enough force behind it until the loose panel was sticking again.
Her hands were already dusty as was her dress from sliding against the walls and the furniture, not to mention from crawling on the floor to peek under furniture in case her father had stuck something to the bottom of a piece.
After lifting the ornate rugs in the parlor and finding nothing underneath them, she abandoned the room and went back to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled. The larder was virtually empty, but the things she’d always liked were there: a jar of olives, hard cheese, and a partial leg of dry cured ham. She inhaled and cut herself thick slices of cheese and ham and spooned a large helping of olives onto a plate.
When she devoured the first slice of ham, she realized how hungry she’d been. Within minutes, the plate was empty, and she felt much better. It was easier to resume her search with a full belly.
Her father’s study was her next destination. When she entered the room, it was dim and badly lit. While the window was unobstructed by any drapes, the early afternoon sun didn’t reach into the room: the window backed up to another home whose wall was too close, preventing the sun’s rays to penetrate at this angle. She couldn’t understand why her father had ever chosen such an unsuitable room for his study.
Bianca lit a candle and appreciated its soft glow as it brought light into the room. While the study was small, the walls were stuffed with books from top to bottom. Many were covered with dust. She sighed. It would take her hours to remove book after book to see whether anything was hidden behind them. She set the c
andlestick with the lit candle to one side onto a shelf, so the light flooded over her shoulder and went to work.
She’d completely forgotten how many books her father had collected during his lifetime. He’d often read to her as a child, before they’d fallen out, before he’d gotten it into his head to marry her off to the highest bidder. Bianca pushed the thoughts aside and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The hours seemed to fly by as she handled book after book.
“What are you looking for?”
Bianca shot up from her crouching position and turned in the same instance, her heart beating frantically at the shock of being discovered. Lorenzo, dressed in breeches and a shirt which was open at the neck glowered over her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I …” She swallowed hard, trying to buy herself some time. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
His jaw clenched. “I asked what you’re looking for.”
It appeared that he wasn’t easily dissuaded. Only her talent for acting could help her now. She thrust her chin up and pursed her lips. “If you must know …” Then she cast her eyes to the side and sighed heavily. “I was trying to find an old book my dear father read to me when I was a child.” She dropped her head toward her chest, letting out a heavy breath, sniffing in the process. “I wanted something to remember him by.”
Bianca forced herself to think of the first few days in Florence, the time when she’d had to live on the streets, the fear and the humiliation. It made the tears come easily—tears she needed now to fool Lorenzo into thinking she was mourning her father.
When she lifted her face back to him, the first tear rolled down her cheek. And with delight, she saw Lorenzo’s expression change from suspicion to compassion. Ah, yes, she could still play any man like a fiddle. They had manipulated her for long enough, now it was her turn to manipulate them.