Desired: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

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Desired: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 7

by Monica La Porta


  “Never has a courtesan raised a million euros for a month’s contract,” she said, laughing softly.

  Almost dropping the chalice I was holding, I repeated, “A million euros—”

  She steadied my hand and removed the chalice, which she gave to a waiter who had rushed to our side. “And they are still bidding.”

  “Who’s the highest bidder?” I looked around.

  Several vampires nodded at me, raising their glasses high. My trembling became a full-blown shaking.

  “The auction is open but instead of their names, the bidders use a number that was assigned to them at the beginning of the night. There are two of them fighting for you now. I’ve never seen anything like this.” Madame V, the most composed woman I’d ever met, let her excitement show in her voice. “You’ll get back your house and then some, Stella.”

  Instead of happiness, elation, stupor, I felt nothing. Besides the shaking—the only outward detail that betrayed I was experiencing a reaction to her statement—I couldn’t summon any sentiment.

  “Listen to me.” Madame V gently turned me to face her and cupped my face in her warm hands. “I promise you are going to be fine. You must believe me.” She tilted her head and gave me the gentlest of smiles. “I would never hand you to a man who wouldn’t adore you.”

  A low murmur rippled through the room. Excitement bubbled as the guests turned to face the clock that had lowered from the center of the ceiling. A distinct ticking announced the countdown from 60 seconds.

  Time froze. I lived through that last minute as if suspended in a parallel universe flowing at a different speed. I saw movement all around me; some of the vampires were entering and exiting the private chambers. The expression on their faces spoke louder than words; amusement, envy, rage, triumph in one case. The last emotion belonged to Marcello, the blond with the turquoise eyes.

  He’s handsome, I thought, feeling deflated. But at least, the blond vampire was one of the few who had made an impression on me—I remembered his name, after all. That the impression was neither good nor bad didn’t matter. I had noticed him, and that would have to suffice.

  The room started counting out loud.

  Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four—

  My heart lurched up in my throat.

  Three, Two—One

  A booming applause covered the brief silence that had followed the countdown. Waiters offered Champagne. Madame V congratulated me.

  I had just been sold to the highest bidder.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I saved Casa Colonna, I thought while vampires and courtesans paraded before me, their voices too loud as they offered praise to both Madame V and me on the night’s outcome. Some of the smiles were authentic, some strained, and there was the outright hostility a few of the courtesans couldn’t hide fast enough before Madame V caught them.

  “I did it,” I whispered when the crowd dwindled, and finally the last guests exited the club.

  “You did.” Madame V took my hand and led me toward the private chambers. “Let’s see the final number.”

  The happiness and relief that should have filled my heart wasn’t there. Instead, detachment replaced my emotions. My body followed her, but I felt as if I was floating above us, observing myself going through the motions. We entered a foyer that also opened onto the rooftop and proceeded to a large studio that resembled a hothouse with dozens of potted orchids dotting glass shelves.

  Sitting behind the desk at the end of the room, Francesca was expecting us with huge eyes and a shocked expression on her face. On one hand, she held a folded paper she immediately passed to Madame V. “It’s unbelievable,” she said.

  I noticed the manila folder sitting on the desk. The word Contract was written bright red on the black cardboard. Beside the folder, an elegant tray displayed a small knife with a sharp edge and an elongated mother pearl handle, a crystal ampoule, and two snow-white, lace handkerchiefs folded in triangles, like fans. Soon, I would be committing myself to a vampire, and those would be the tools used to bond us for thirty days. I gave the ceremonial knife another glance and shivered.

  Meanwhile, Madame V had opened the paper. Her eyebrows shot up at whatever she read on it. “Well, you seem to keep breaking records.” She slowly turned the paper toward me.

  I saw several numbers in order of magnitude, from the lowest at the bottom to the highest up on top. To the side of the sums, there was the time the bids had been made. I read the highest number under my breath and asked, “Five million euros?”

  “The winning bid arrived at the last second, literally. Look, it was recorded at 00:01.” Francesca pointed her finger at the corner of the page where the zeroes and one seemed to pulse like a neon sign. “Your new master wanted to be sure that no one would outbid him.”

  Five million euros.

  My emotions rushed back all at once, and my legs gave up. Madame V’s hand shot out and grabbed my elbow, preventing my fall, then led me to the chair Francesca had pulled out from under the desk. Lightheaded, I sat but couldn’t focus on anything.

  A cell phone rang. With a frown, Madame V lowered her eyes to the jeweled clutch she held against her gown, then she retrieved her phone from the elegant purse. “Hello?” she answered. “Congratulation—” she started, but her interlocutor must have silenced her. Her eyes flared. “It’s against the rules—” She listened for a moment before saying, “You promised me.” There was a longer pause. “This is not what we—” Her gaze cut toward me. “If you think that’s the best thing.” With a long sigh, she concluded, “I’ll ready her.” She hung up and looked at me. “Your new master wants to see you, but not here.”

  Worrying the fabric of my gown, I thought, That’s it.

  “Here, have something to drink.” Francesca came back into the studio with a bottle of Perrier and a glass.

  I hadn’t seen her going out. I thanked her and accepted the glass from which I drank long gulps of cold sparkling water. The Perrier sizzled on my tongue, and its salty taste had the effect of awakening me from my stupor. Maybe I had been dehydrated. That was good; it meant I wasn’t having a meltdown. I couldn’t afford to have a meltdown.

  “Stella?” Madame V waved her hand before my face. “Are you with us?”

  I blinked and handed the glass to Francesca with a silent, “Please.”

  “Of course.” The secretary poured more water for me that I gulped down in one single swallow.

  “Just dehydration,” I said. “What happens now?”

  “I escort you to your master—” Madame V answered, but I could read the hesitant note in her voice.

  “I thought we were going to meet here—” My gaze slid across the desk and over the tray. The edge of the knife caught a gleam of light and sparkled. I immediately averted my eyes. “To finalize the contract.”

  Madame V nodded. “That is how it usually works, but we must make concessions for the vampire lord’s eccentricity. After all, the man just paid a fortune for the pleasure of your company.” She offered her hand, and I grabbed it like an anchor.

  “Is he—?” A good man? Is he going to ask for something different, more, because he paid so much for me?

  “He is one of the oldest vampires in Rome.” Madame V helped me to my feet and gently tugged me toward the door. “And I can personally vouch for him.”

  He’s patient then, I thought.

  She patted my hand. “As I told you, I always match my girls with their perfect master.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked when we left Francesca on the rooftop and took the elevator to the ground floor. Before we exited the club, the secretary had wrapped me in my cloak she had retrieved from the coat closet. Now, I wondered if I had to walk on the stiletto heels that would surely get stuck in between the cobblestones.

  “Not far.” Madame V pointed her chin at the black limousine idling in front of the hotel’s entrance.

  A tall man dressed all in black stood before the passenger door. That’s just the dr
iver, I thought.

  Right before the hotel’s glass door, I balked, stopping Madame V with me. “Is it the blond vampire?” I squeezed her hand tight. “Marcello? It’s him, right?” I just remembered that he wasn’t among the guests who had come to congratulate me at the end. He must have left to organize this—whatever this was.

  Her expression serene, Madame V squeezed my hand back. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  “I’m scared,” I finally said, looking at the car waiting for me. Its darkened windows looked like a bottomless void that would soon suck me in.

  “Don’t be.” She gave me the sweetest smile. “Your master has decided to give you a night and a day before you two sign the contract. By tomorrow night, if you don’t like him, you are free to part ways.” She resumed walking, and I had to follow her. “And if that happens, I’ll give you my ten percent for your trouble.”

  Although my brain wasn’t properly working at the moment, I registered the magnitude of what the madam had just said. “You would give me your cut?”

  “I promise.”

  My mathematical skills came back all at once. “Five hundred thousand euros?”

  “Word of honor.” She brought her free hand to her heart.

  “But why?” We were now at the door, and the bellboy was holding the stained-glass panel for me.

  “Because I promised Paolo to help you.” She kissed my cheeks twice, then added, “And because I know that when tomorrow night comes, you’ll be signing your contract.” When she released me, her eyes had an amused twinkle. “Give him tonight.”

  The glass door closed behind me, and I faced the tall driver. My feet could barely move, but the man bowed at me before opening the limousine door. Inside, I glimpsed long legs clad in dark pants.

  A gust of wind engulfed my cloak and messed my hair. Images from my past whirled before my eyes, like leaves chased away by the breeze. When the draft ended, my mind had cleared of all the cobwebs and a sudden decision took hold in my chest.

  I can’t go through with this.

  The clarity of the thought startled me, and at the same time, the constant pressure on my heart lessened; the emotional weight had kept me company since Aunt Marella’s death. Burdened with the task of surviving day by day, I had not realized how heavy it was until now. But I felt lighter already and knew with absolute certainty that my decision was final. Five million euros or five thousand didn’t make any difference. I just couldn’t sell myself. Not even to save my ancestral home.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Madame V smiling reassuringly at me. I would speak to her later, but right now I owed the man who had bid for me an explanation.

  “Good evening, Miss. Colonna,” the driver said, pointing at the car.

  I inhaled once, then twice. My head spun. My heart beat too fast. I took a step. Leaning, I entered the limousine, looking for blond hair and turquoise eyes. I hoped Marcello was the understanding type.

  Shrouded in shadows, the man sat in the far corner, his large shoulders casually leaning over the backseat. When I lowered myself into the car, the driver closed the passenger door, trapping me inside. It was too dark, and I felt the metal walls close in on me. When I was about to bang on the window and ask to be let out, the vampire moved, and his face entering the cone of light from the lamppost outside.

  My galloping heart stopped beating altogether, and if it hadn’t been for the leather under my legs, I would have surely sunk under the car.

  The vampire lord who had bought me for five million euros smiled at me with the most handsome smile I had ever seen. And he wasn’t Marcello.

  Beckoning me to slide closer was, in fact, the last man I had ever thought would bid for me.

  “Hi, Stella,” my vampire neighbor said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Hi,” I croaked back. I couldn’t say his name out loud for fear that he would disappear.

  Fabian Laurentis had won me at the auction. Even looking at him didn’t make it real.

  “Hi,” he repeated, patting the seat by his side.

  I tried to remember the speech I had hastily hatched a few minutes ago. “Thank you, but—”

  “My pleasure.” Fabian’s smile widened. Dimples appeared on both his cheeks.

  He was famous for his dimples. Up close, they were devastating, and they made me forget what I should have said right away.

  “Come closer.” His voice was gentle, but I heard the command underneath.

  Instead of sending me into a bout of panic, his firm tone reassured me, and I moved on the seat.

  He nodded, pleased. Then he lowered his hand on mine which was resting on my lap.

  That simple gesture made it real for me.

  Fabian Laurentis won me at the auction. And I should be saying to him thanks but no thanks.

  His skin was cold, but not as cold as I had imagined. Those sleepless nights had been conducive to hours of thinking of what it would feel to be touched by the famous actor. Now I knew. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

  His fingers circled my wrist, massaging my hand with just enough pressure to make me shiver.

  He lowered his mouth to my ear and closed the lapels of my cloak with his free hand. “Are you comfortable?”

  Unable to answer, I nodded. If anything, with his finger pads eliciting the most mixed reaction in my body, and his gentle breath at my earlobe, I was about to moan. The thought horrified me. Where was my resolution to refuse his offer?

  “Good,” he said, and I had no idea what was good. Then, without turning, his body still angled toward mine and his mouth close to my throat, he said, “Martino, we can go.”

  Finally, my brain connected with my mouth. “Martino, please stop.” I turned slightly in the seat to look at Fabian. “We need to talk.”

  With an amused glint, Fabian nodded. “Martino, give us a minute.”

  Dark glass rose to give us privacy in the back.

  The power of Fabian’s eyes staring back at me rendered me mute for a moment. Then I blurted out, “Thank you, but I can’t accept your money. I should’ve never gone through with the auction in the first place. It was a mistake. I apologize for the inconvenience—”

  “You don’t want to be a blood courtesan?” he said, something passing through his gaze that looked a lot like relief.

  My nerves must be playing tricks on me. I took a long breath. “No, I don’t want to be a blood courtesan.” Fabian’s expression changed again, and I hurried to add, “It’s not personal.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His lips quirked.

  “So, again, thank you for everything.” I grabbed the door handle.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. His tone was guarded, and it made me nervous.

  “Home. After I talk to Madame V.” I lowered the handle and made to exit.

  His hand landed on my arm. “Stay.”

  “I just told you that I won’t be your courtesan.”

  “I don’t want you to be.”

  I studied him for a long moment.

  “Then what do you want?”

  “To spend a day with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s say the auction never happened.” He smiled. His dimples came out with a vengeance. “If I were to meet you in any other circumstance and ask you out, would you say yes?”

  “You mean on a date?” The famous actor and the poor nobody. That would be something straight out of a fairytale.

  “Would you like to go out with me tonight?” he asked, his fingers gently massaging my skin.

  At a loss for words, I stared at him.

  “Say yes.” His eyes shone with a mischievous light.

  The night had been such a roller coaster of emotions, I wasn’t sure of what I wanted any longer but for one thing. “I won’t be your blood courtesan.”

  “I’m fine with that. I was going to give you time to reconsider anyway,” he said.

  Very few things would have surprised me at this point, and his sta
tement was one of them.

  “I won’t bite.” His wink was straight out of a movie scene. “I promise.”

  Tomorrow, I would have to find a new job and a place to live, probably outside of Rome. My future was as bleak as it could be, and I would never see this gorgeous man again. I deserved a few hours of reprieve from reality. I looked down at his hand over my arm, then at my evening gown. Thirty years from now, I would have at least the memory of tonight.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Fabian’s smile was beautiful when he said, “Martino, let’s go.”

  The limousine slowly navigated the narrow street, but I wasn’t interested in looking outside to see where we were going.

  “I had planned our soiree in advance,” Fabian said, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

  He knew he had that effect on women, but I still hoped he wouldn’t notice how one of his smiles had the power to make me faint. His hand left my arm and landed on my leg.

  Instead of following on his statement, I said, “I didn’t see you at the gala.”

  “I wanted to remain anonymous.”

  His unmoving hand on my thigh felt like a fire brand, burning through the silk of my gown, marking my skin underneath.

  “You don’t want anyone to know you hire courtesans.” It made sense, but it made me feel dirty, even though I had changed my mind on becoming one.

  “I need to protect my privacy.”

  “Of course.”

  “I sense that you don’t like my answer.”

  I shook my head. “No, I can’t imagine what it means to be as famous as you are, but I would probably try to avoid any bad publicity if I were in your position.”

  “That’s what you think?”

  “I—”

  “It’s okay. You can tell me anything you want. I want you to feel free to be yourself with me.”

  Emboldened by his request, I asked, “Tonight… What would’ve happened if—?”

  “Nothing that you didn’t want to do,” he answered.

  My five seconds of courage crumbled under his stare, and I waited for him to resume talking.

  He leaned away instead and looked at me with his intense emerald eyes, then said, “We’ve arrived.”

 

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