Dishonorable

by Natasha Knight

  Raphael had said he had work to do and left me at the house to wait for the seamstress.

  Maria gave Charlie a little pat on the head, but from the way she jumped when his wet nose touched her hand, I knew she wasn’t used to animals. She gave me a bowl for water, and I set it in the corner for Charlie to drink. The two women who worked for her, Tessa and Nicola, couldn’t get enough of him.

  I looked at them while Maria pointed them to some food to give him. They were pretty. Probably around my age, maybe a year or two older. These were the same women who’d tripped over themselves for my soon-to-be husband. I didn’t want to like them, but I had to admit, they were nice to me and fell instantly in love with Charlie, like I had. They were nicer than Maria was, at least. The older woman seemed to stand back and watch. I knew her bond with Raphael was probably like that of a mother. Did she see me as a threat? Did she know anything about our situation?

  When the doorbell rang right at noon, I asked if Charlie could stay in the kitchen while I had my fitting, which Maria allowed. I opened the door, and an older woman with white hair stood just outside.

  “Hello.”

  The seamstress introduced herself in broken English and came inside.

  “I’m not sure where the dress is—”

  “I was told it would be in your room.”

  “Oh.” She knew more than I did. “I guess we should head up. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Okay. This way, then.” She followed me up the stairs, and I admit, my curiosity grew. When we got to my room, I saw the long white garment bag hanging from the closet door. “I haven’t seen it,” I said while she set her things down.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, moving confidently toward the bag and unzipping it. “Raphael’s mother, Renata, wore it.”

  His mother had worn the wedding dress he wanted me to wear?

  “Terrible how she died,” she continued.

  I only nodded and watched her lift the long lace gown out of the bag. She looked it over and smiled approvingly.

  “Perfect condition. It was in Renata’s family. Worn by at least four women.”

  I touched the delicate, intricate lace, wondering at its age. Wondering why in hell he’d want me to wear this.

  “It’s beautiful.” The dress had long sleeves and a deep V-neck with a fitted waist that dropped straight to the floor with a slight train at the back. It looked to be close to my size.

  The seamstress looked me over. “It should fit you. Come.”

  I undressed, and she helped me step into the gown, then buttoned what seemed to be an endless number of pearl buttons that went from my low back up to my shoulders. Only then did she permit me to look at myself in the mirror.

  I had no words. I never would have thought I’d wear a lace gown. Not that I’d given my wedding much thought while at school. Some girls did, but that wasn’t me.

  It had to be taken in just a little, but not much. I smiled when I reached up to push the hair back from my face and noticed the sleeves widened at the wrists, making it look more medieval. The length would be perfect with the high-heeled shoes Raphael had also arranged for me to wear.

  I stood still while the seamstress worked, wondering where exactly we’d be married. He’d said in front of God and man. Did he mean we’d be married in a church? And why did he want me wearing this? Wouldn’t he be better off to save it for when he really got married? After me, after the three years had passed and he had no use for me and could find his true happily-ever-after?

  The thought made me nauseous, actually.

  The seamstress didn’t stick me once with the hundred or so pins I swear she used before finally, she was satisfied. She then opened another bag I hadn’t seen. It was behind the one the dress had come in. This one contained a simple white veil edged with lace of the same pattern. She took the clip from my hair and laid it over my head. I noticed then how the veil was yellowing along the edges, but the result was no less stunning.

  The door opened at that moment. There was no knock first. We both turned to find Raphael standing there. His mouth fell open, and he didn’t speak for a long time. Finally, I moved, sliding the veil from my head, and facing him.

  “It’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding,” the seamstress said with a wink.

  Was she oblivious to the tension between us?

  “This is no ordinary wedding,” I muttered.

  Raphael cleared his throat and dragged his gaze from me. “Do you need anything?” he asked the seamstress.

  “No, I should be fine. I’ll have it back within a few days. Not too much to do.”

  “Good.” He looked me over again, his expression strange, tight. He then nodded, walked back out, and closed the door. The seamstress helped me undress and carefully placed the gown back in its bag. After gathering her things, she said good-bye and left.

  Feeling the weight of jet lag, I lay down to close my eyes for a few minutes, but those few minutes turned into two nightmarish hours.

  I dreamed of Lina and Grandfather back home, but Grandfather had a set of horns growing out of his head in my dream. That and yellowed, decaying teeth. Lina was smaller, younger. More vulnerable. And even though I was there, it seemed as though I wasn’t. I was able to watch, but I couldn’t reach out and touch her, and she couldn’t hear me when I spoke, when I told her to run because Grandfather was stalking her through the house.

  It was when I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror that I finally woke, and when I did, I was sweating and the sheets had knotted around my body.

  I was wearing that wedding dress in my dream, but it didn’t look the same. It was bloodied and blackened by fire and death, and there was a stench so strong that I swear I could still smell it now as if it clung to my nostrils.

  After unraveling myself from the sheets, I picked up my cell phone and called Lina. She answered on the second ring, whispering.

  “I’m so glad I caught you,” I said.

  “Me, too. I’ve been waiting for you to call. I didn’t want to call you, figuring you’d be messed up with the time difference.”

  “Don’t worry about that, just call me whenever.”

  “You too.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “I’m hiding in the bathroom. Piano lesson.”

  “Oh.” Her schedule was grueling, and the only thing that gave me comfort was knowing she actually enjoyed the work, or at least the end result.

  “How are you? How is it there?”

  “Okay,” I said. It’s a really nice property, actually. His family has an estate here, or I guess it’s his now.”

  “Did you meet his brothers?”

  “Just the one. Damon. He wants to become a priest!”

  “A priest?”

  “I know, I was shocked too. I mean, this is the Amado family. The only legitimate thing about them was the winery that’s been destroyed. It’s no secret who their father was, what he did.”

  “Don’t judge them all by their father’s actions.”

  She was more right than she knew, considering Grandfather’s actions. “You’re much nicer than me, Lina.”

  “How is he? Raphael, I mean?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. Honestly, I couldn’t figure him out. What did I tell her? “I don’t know yet, I guess. He gave me a puppy.”

  “He did? Wow! That’s nice.”

  “It was one kind act. He’s not a nice man, Lina. We can’t ever forget that.”

  “Maybe he’s trying?”

  “I don’t want to be naive.” But I did want to believe it. It would make things bearable.

  “Give him a chance.”

  “How can I do that when I know the reason for this is my inheritance? He’ll marry me for it, keep me prisoner, and then what? What will happen after three years?”

  “Three years, then you’re free. A marriage in name only. I’ll even make sure you’re not out on the street after
ward, if you’re a good girl.”

  “No one knows what will happen in the future. You’re the one who always told me that when I was down.”

  “He wants me to wear his mother’s wedding dress.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t get it, Lina. I think he likes messing with me, but that’s just weird. Why would he want that?”

  “Sofia, I don’t like him for taking you away. I don’t like what he’s doing to you, to us. But he could be really awful to you. He could lock you up and throw away the key. It’s not like Grandfather could stop him if he wanted to—”

  “I know he can’t.”

  “My point is, give it a chance. You don’t know him. He’s been through hell and back. Maybe he’s searching for something too. Maybe he’s trying to find his peace.”

  “Or get his revenge.”

  “You have to give it a chance to figure it out. Figure him out.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours. Always yours. But for the next three years, you’re stuck. I don’t want it to be hell for you.”

  “I wish you were here.”

  “Grandfather will never agree to that. You know that.”

  “I know.”

  I heard her teacher’s voice calling for her. “Just a minute,” she called out. “I have to go,” she said to me. “I’ll call you back after the lesson, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Hey, don’t be sad.”

  I nodded, but tears filled my eyes.

  “Send me photos of the puppy. What did you name him?”

  “Charlie.”

  “Like our Charlie.”

  “You remember him?”

  “I remember losing him,” she said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. You were five.”

  “I know.”

  “I have to go, Sofia. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  We hung up, and I climbed out of bed. It was close to five in the afternoon, and the heat was oppressive today. I dug through my suitcases, found my bikini, and slipped it on. I’d check on Charlie and go for a swim. A little exercise would clear my head. Then I’d focus on getting Lina photos of everything.

  She was right. I didn’t know him. I only knew he’d been through hell. I just didn’t want him to put me through it now. But for the next three years, I was bound to him.

  I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and stepped out into the hallway. At least he wouldn’t expect me to share his bed. That should have been a comfort, a relief, but for some reason, it only made me feel a little…less. Like I wasn’t good enough.

  After checking on Charlie, who lay sleeping on the cool tile floor in the kitchen, I went out to the swimming pool. I didn’t see Raphael until it was too late. Until he’d seen me, and I couldn’t sneak away.

  He leaned against the edge of the pool at the far end. I guessed he’d been swimming laps, because he looked to be breathing hard. The muscles of his arms and back flexed as he pulled his body out of the water and climbed out. He wore tight swim trunks, and sun glistened on his wet skin. I quickly looked away, forcing my legs to move as he picked up his towel to dry off while watching me.

  I sat down on the chair farthest from his on the opposite side of the rectangular pool. The water sparkled in the sun. I longed to submerge myself but felt self-conscious as he approached, stopping just in front of my chair. Water dripped from his wet hair onto me. I hadn’t worn anything but my bikini and had wrapped the towel around myself on my way out here, so now I perched on the edge of the lounge chair, holding the towel tight to me.

  Raphael sat with an exhale, then stretched out on the seat.

  “If you clutch that towel any tighter, you might pop a knuckle.”

  I softened my hold on the towel and turned to him.

  “Where’s your puppy?” he asked.

  “Sleeping in the kitchen. It’s probably too hot for him out here.”

  “Too hot for anyone. Get in the pool and cool off.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “So you just came out here to sit and watch the pool?”

  I shrugged a shoulder.

  He chuckled and lay back, closed his eyes, and turned his face up to the sun. “Suit yourself.”

  I turned my attention back to the water and, after a few minutes of silence from him, I undid the towel from around myself, checked that his eyes were still closed, and quickly walked to the edge of the pool. Testing the water with my toe, I stepped in, descending the five stairs before floating out, ducking my head under and swimming to the far end before coming up. I glanced at Raphael, who now sat watching me. I went under again and swam, coming up for air only to find he’d joined me in the water.

  My heart beat hard as he swam out to me, his dark head parting the water like a shark as, with two powerful strokes, he was at my side, then had me cornered, his arms trapping me at the edge of the pool.

  “One thing I learned early in life is never let your enemies see your fear.” He moved in closer, his wet face inches from mine. “Never let them smell it on you because it’s like a fucking drug.” He inhaled deeply. “You can get high from it, Sofia.”

  “Are you my enemy?” I asked, focusing on that one word. Unable to think about the rest. Knowing it was true.

  “I’m not your friend, am I?”

  “No.”

  “Your eyes betray your desire, Sofia. Your hunger.”

  “You don’t see very clearly, Raphael.”

  “I see very clearly. And I read you like a fucking book.”

  I looked away, very aware of his body so close to mine, very aware of how my lips parted and my tongue darted out to lick them. And how he watched that little involuntary movement so knowingly.

  “You’re curious, Sofia. At least admit it to yourself. Or are you a coward?”

  “I’m not a coward. And you’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  “Let me go.”

  “I’m not touching you.”

  His gaze roamed over my face, then dropped to my lips.

  I dove down and slipped under his arm, swimming to the shallower edge of the pool. But before I could climb out, he was behind me, and this time, he was touching me. His body pressed against me, his chest to my back, trapping me.

  “You want me to touch you,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t you?”

  When his lips closed around my earlobe, I sucked in a breath. It was like the sensation shot right through me. Shot down to my core, awakening something else. Something he seemed to do just by being around me.

  One of his hands slid down to close over my waist, and he turned me so I faced him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, breathless, trapped.

  “I told you I’d find a way for you to repay me.”

  “What?” I panicked, looking to either side of him for an escape but knowing I’d go nowhere if he didn’t allow me to. Physically, I was no match.

  “Shh. Just be quiet.”

  Water dripped into my eyes, and I blinked. In that moment, his mouth closed over mine, wet and cool, the taste of chlorine clinging to his lips.

  I made a sound and pushed against his chest. It’s what I should do. I should resist. But he didn’t budge and he didn’t release me, not with his body, not with his mouth. Instead, his lips teased mine open, the stubble on his jaw sharp against my cheek as he slid his tongue inside my mouth. Against my conscious will, I opened. He eased his tongue deeper, and I did something so against what my brain told me to do, which was to resist. Instead, I tasted him. I tasted his tongue, his lips, his breath, and for one brief moment, I kissed him back.

  That was when Raphael broke the kiss.

  I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his eyes darker, the victory inside them a mockery, shaming me.

  “You want it, Sofia. You want it so fucking bad, I can smell it on you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Raphael

  “Get off
me,” Sofia shoved at me, but I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

  “Make me.”

  She tried again. “I mean it.”

  “Or what? What will you do if I don’t let you go?”

  Frustration lined her forehead. It took her a full minute to answer my question with her own.

  “What can I do?”

  She searched my face as if truly seeking an answer from me.

  From me.

  “Nothing. That’s the point,” I said.

  “I’m a game to you.”

  “No, not a game.”

  “Then what? I don’t understand what you want with me. You tell me this marriage will be in name alone. You tell me you hate me, yet—”

  “I told you I hate your name. There’s a difference between hating your name and hating you.”

  “Does it matter?”

  I could see her confusion and frustration visibly mounting as she frantically searched around her.

  “I’m cold.”

  She gasped when I wrapped my hands around her tiny waist and instantly tried to push them off. When I lifted her out of the pool and set her on the edge, she exhaled, her face flushing red, probably embarrassed at her panic.

  I climbed out and got her towel, wrapping it over her shoulders as I sat beside her.

  “Thanks.”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t understand what you want,” she said.

  I looked at her sitting there, hugging the towel to herself, shivering in the heat. Her wet hair clung to her skin, and she refused to look at me for a long time.

  What did I want? What did I want with her? This was a business transaction, ultimately. Money owed. She was here to pay off a debt.

  But did I want to take it out of her skin?

  What did that make me if I did? This wasn’t how I thought it would go, but having her here, having her close, warm and soft and so fucking innocent… I could have her, that was the point. I didn’t even have to make her. She wanted me, and I was using her desire against her. Taunting her with it.

  “Look at me, Sofia.”

  She did, and her pale eyes searched mine. Inside them I saw humiliation. I saw sadness. Uncertainty. I saw vulnerability, and I saw a loneliness, a longing, a hope, that I recognized. One I couldn’t ignore. One that threatened to resurrect a part of me I’d buried long ago.