by C. D. Gorri
“I am sure you are surprised by my acquaintance with Sophia, but it is not so terribly mysterious. My cousin is an admirer of hers, and his courting attracted the unwelcome attentions of her landlady.”
Gavin’s stony expression did not change, but the clenching of his fists revealed a jealousy that ran deep…perhaps as deep and true as his love for the girl. Mila had to remind herself that her heart no longer beat, and therefore, it could no longer break. It was not her fault that Gavin and Dorian found themselves in such a tangle, nor was it within her power to fully remedy the situation. All she had to give were small comforts, and no one wanted those. Still, she felt she had to try.
“You needn’t fear that this will become some all-consuming affair,” Mila said. “My cousin and I shall be leaving soon.” She tried not to feel guilty about the pain Gavin would experience when he learned that Sophia would be put to death for witchcraft.
“You do not live in Venice?” He was clearly surprised, which puzzled her.
“No. We arrived a few days ago.”
“Where were you before you came here?”
His sudden intensity startled her, but she saw no harm in answering his questions. “Pula. We sailed from Pula.”
Gavin leaned in, close enough that his breath stirred her veil. “The other passengers on the ship, did you see them? Was there anything peculiar about their appearance or their behavior?”
She instantly understood him. The Hunter was asking these questions, and there must have been some kind of warning or sighting about vampires to connect them with the ship. The best lies were the simplest ones, and she grabbed at the first she could think of.
“I wish I could tell you,” she said gently, soaking her words in innocent contrition. “But I have never been a good sailor, and I had to keep to my cabin all of the trip.”
Gavin nodded and sighed, but the urgency of his manner abated somewhat. He clearly believed her, and for that, she was both glad and sorry.
“Where is Sophia now?” he asked.
“She stays the night with a friend of our host’s, and I shall help her find new lodging in the morning.”
“You needn’t bother. I will do that.”
“Forgive me, but without being her betrothed or brother, you’d only make her application to any boarding house worse.”
He looked disgruntled at her words but nodded curtly. “I need to see her.”
“You shall. Tomorrow.”
“Tonight. Take me to her tonight. Now.”
His fierce protectiveness and devotion made Mila ache with longing. If only such feelings could have been for her! She blinked, taken aback by such a wish. The sound of his impatient shifting in his seat brought her back into the moment, and she channeled the sudden chill of her soul into her voice.
“That is a fine request to make of me,” she scoffed. “I asked a favor of my host and a stranger to help your friend, and now you wish me to impose further on them?”
“The reason you won’t take me to her is because your cousin is with her, isn’t it?”
“What of it if he is?” she snapped, her icy control melting in the heat of hurt and anger. “I tell you that it will soon be over between them. Has she pledged herself to you? Sworn undying love or given you her maidenhead? Why chase the moon when it loves the sun?”
“That is enough,” Gavin said, his voice low but his tone unquestionably menacing.
“You are quite right,” she shot back. “I have had enough! I am leaving, and you may sit and stay, like the spaniel you are.”
She had barely gone a half-dozen steps away from the tavern when Gavin’s voice assailed her once more.
“What do you know of love, Snow Maiden?” he called bitterly, his even steps echoing against the houses as he approached. “You are rock and ice to me.”
“I would be a fool to be anything else to a man who loves another,” she said, refusing to turn and face him, afraid he would see the burn of her agony all-too plain upon her face.
“If I could love you, would you give me the same answer?” He was now too close, too gentle, his breath a whisper on the nape of her neck. It was too much to bear.
“Love me and find out,” Mila spat then walked away as quickly as human pretense would allow.
Chapter Nineteen
Sophia stirred and pain throbbed in her head. She reached up and touched the side of it, expecting to find blood. As she brought her hand down, she sighed to it being clean. Sitting up in the bed fear clenched her chest and she gasped to her surroundings.
The bed, the luxurious bed, took up more space than the room she lived. Last night's events of running, then her body slamming into a brute force. Were there arms? She felt lost in what could only be described as a dream. She ran her hand over the soft, silky fabric and warmth enveloped her. Sophia could not recall the last time she woke up in a warm bed, in a warm room. Across the way, a maid tended to the fire in the fireplace. She looked above her and the valance that surrounded the bed matched the fabric of the cover. Mirrors trimmed in gold hung on all four walls, and next to them, scones holding burning candles.
How had she ended up here? Sitting up further in the bed, she let her feet dangle over the side. She cleared her throat and the maid turned to face her. The slender woman smiled stood, wiped her hands on her apron, then approached.
“Good evening, Signora,” the maid curtseyed. “If it pleases you,” she said and poured water from pitcher into a basin, then handed Sophia a cloth. She crossed the room while Sophia dipped the cloth into the water.
“Thank you,” she said and wiped her face, neck, then hands. The maid returned with a long, brilliant white nightshift.
“The master had this brought for you to wear.” She handed the garment over to Sophia.
“Master?” she asked and accepted it. “What will happen to my clothes?”
“I’ll personally have them cleaned, Signora.”
Sophia nodded and stood from the bed. The maid helped her undress, then slipped the nightshift over her head. The fabric felt cool, and soft, against her skin. She smiled at the maid.
“Thank you.”
The woman curtseyed once more, then left the room with Sophia’s clothes. She laid back down in the bed and pulled the warm covers to her neck, and quickly feel back asleep.
*.*.*.*
As gentle hands caressed her waist and hips, Sophia roused between awake and asleep. When hands cupped her breasts, she fully woke. Pulled to her backside, lips kissed across her bare shoulder to her neck. A strong arm pulls her close and in the warmth of her bed, a chill pressed against her body.
Slowly, her eyes opened and she stared into Dorian’s. She smiled and turned into his embrace. “How long have you been here?”
He pushed her loose hairs behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “Long enough to bring you a hot meal,” he whispered, “and a surprise.”
She lifted her head up and laid it on her palm. “A surprise? What would warrant a surprise?”
He grinned. “You will have to wait and see for yourself.”
She nodded and sat up in bed. Glancing over to the spread of fresh fruits, warm biscuits, and sliced meat, she felt her stomach growl in hunger. It had been a long time, if ever, she recalled filling herself full on a meal. “Will you eat with me?” she turned to look at Dorian.
He climbed out of the bed in only his breeches. Sophia’s eyes roved over his backside, admiring the contours of his back, the strong muscles of his biceps, the way his lower back moved as he took each step.
“No, I had my supper earlier. However, I am hungry for other things.” He walked over to her, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “There’s sustenance you can provide me and a part of me wants to take it now.” He growled next to her ear and Sophia whimpered softly in delight. Gooseflesh rose on her skin and she gripped the sheet she sat upon.
Dorian kissed her neck and hovered there for a moment, as if inhaling her scent. He pulled away and kept his gaze on hers.
“Allow me to feed you, love.” He crossed the room and picked up a pitcher of water and poured some into a goblet, then handed it to Sophia. He then plated food for her and set it on the table in the room.
She pulled on a robe that had been laid upon her bed and took a seat next to him.
“Tell me about your family, your history,” he requested.
She chewed on the melon she picked up and enjoyed the explosion of flavor on her tongue. Once she swallowed, she sat back in her chair and considered what to tell Dorian about herself, her family, her life history.
“I am from Slovenia, not far from the city of Maribor, though my village was much smaller,” she said. “My father was a carpenter in the winter, a field hand in the summer, and vineyard worker in the fall. My mother took in laundry and cared for me. My grandmother lived with us. We were…very close. I miss her every day. I miss them all, but her the most.”
“What happened?” Dorian asked quietly.
“Soldiers,” she said with a shrug.
“Whose army?”
“Does it matter the uniform? Any blade can bring death.”
He nodded, and she drew a calming breath before continuing. “I fled. Begging and stealing my way along the road. Coming here was happenstance, and now, I have not the means to go anywhere else.”
“Turn about, please,?” Sophia requested. “Tell me of your life, and what brought you here to Venice?” She thought of the first vision when she saw the ships coming in. Then the next one where he had her against the wall, driving her mad with his ministrations. She blinked and pressed her lips together, and her legs in an effort to cool the fire that had ignited in her sex.
She picked up the knife and smoothed a fruit jam over her biscuit and took a bite. Dorian sighed and relaxed in his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. “Where to begin?” he almost whispered. “I came here from France. I have lived in many different places, and I love it here in Venice, but my home is France.” He paused for a moment and leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees. “It had been some time since I had visited Venice and felt it was time. I became eager with excitement to step upon its shores once more.” He chuckled. “I was born into wealth. My family came from powerful aristocrats. As my family grew, so did their wealth. Eventually, it became handed down from my father’s father, to his father’s father, to my father, and eventually the burden fell onto me.”
“Burden?” she asked. “Why on earth would you consider it a burden?”
“Having wealth is not everything everyone thinks it is, Sophia.”
She lifted a brow and sipped on her water. “Okay, fine.” She took another sip and thought of Mila. She sat down the goblet and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Tell me about your friend, the woman I have seen you with.”
Dorian raised a brow. “Who, Mila? Oh,” he waved off the topic and stood from his chair. He crossed the room to the window and looked outside, hands resting behind his back. “She is like a dormouse. She is quiet and reserved. She is there when I need her, and I have grown fond of her.” He turned to look at Sophia. “Something like a sister.” He smiled and glanced back toward the grounds.
She felt herself sigh with relief. Relief at what was beyond her thinking as she had no claim or ownership over Dorian, but she’d been jealous, nonetheless. She stood and made no sound as she crossed the room to Dorian. She lightly touched his shoulder and turned him to face her. Resting her hand upon his chest, she asked, “What is it you seek from me, Dorian?” Mentally preparing herself for anything, she longed to hear only one thing: he sought her, and her only.
He stared into her eyes for a long moment, quiet. She began to feel unnerved and opened her mouth to speak when he answered her.
“I promise to give you the answer you seek when the time is appropriate and I feel you are ready to hear it.”
She blinked and took a step back. “I’m sorry. What?”
He smiled. “I will tell you what you seek when the time is right.”
“Well, Dorian, how will either of us know when the time is right?”
The door then opened and a large basin, hand carried by four men, was brought into the room. They sat it down beyond the fireplace and servants rushed to the basin and poured giant copper pitchers of hot water into it, filling it almost to the rim.
Steam rose from the crest of it and the servants poured streams of oil into the water. Sophia’s eyes widened and she smiled as Dorian took her by the shoulders.
He leaned in and whispered next to her ear. “The surprise I had brought in for you has now arrived.”
She shook her head for a moment, in awe. “I have never…” she trailed off as her eyes blurred with the threat of tears. The tub sat upon four prongs that looked like lion's feet. The scent of lavender stretched across the room and she inhaled while closing her eyes.
“This is for you, all for you,” he told her and stepped closer behind. “Leave us,” he ordered the help. They curtseyed and left the two of them alone. Dorian reached for her robing and slipped it off of her shoulders, down her arms.
She shivered, but not from a chill that might have touched her skin. The way his fingers gently glided over her shoulders caused the hair on her arms to stand once again. She let out a sound that mixed a sob and a laugh. She turned to face him with a smile. “Thank you.”
He smiled and kept his lips pressed together. She noticed Dorian never really completely smiled, but she dismissed the thought. “You are welcome, my love.” He leaned in and tilted her head up, then kissed her on the lips. “Allow me to assist you stepping inside.”
Moments later, Sophia pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She watched Dorian as he pulled linen from a nearby table, possibly left out by the servants. He laid a few by the end of the basin, then took a seat on a wooden stool next to her.
“Would you allow me the honor of washing your hair and your body?”
Her eyes widened. She thought on this for a moment, and it felt as if an eternity had passed before she answered him. She had only ever bathed herself, other than her parents. No man had ever witnessed her naked body until Dorian. She looked down at herself and felt exposed.
She shook her head. “I...I don’t...I…” She could not complete a sentence, or even a thought.
He smiled thoughtfully and leaned forward. “I promise to not do more than you are comfortable with, however, I feel you will enjoy this, and allow me to have my way with you.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Please, allow me this favor. Trust in me to take care of your needs.” He leaned in with a whisper. “All of your needs.”
She could not look away from him, and she tried. As she finally blinked, Dorian grinned and picked up one of the pitchers.
“Now, please, allow your head to relax. I will take care of you.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded ever so slightly. She gripped the sides of the tub and relaxed her head back. Gasping, Dorian cupped the back of her head and stood over her. She opened herself completely to him in this position and she froze.
He lifted a brow and smirked, one corner of his mouth pulling upward. “Now, I believe you will have a euphoric state of mind.” He lifted the pitcher above her head.
Sophia stared at the pitcher and held her breath as the water poured out, and she closed her eyes.
“Oh heavens,” she gasped and relaxed a bit. She kept her grip on the tub and another pitcher of water poured over her head. His grip never faltered as the water poured. She heard the container as it clung against the floor. Curious, she opened her eyes.
“Dorian?”
“Yes, love?”
She heard a small pop and looked behind her. He held a vial of oil.
“I will ask you to hold your head up for me while I massage this onto your scalp.”
She smiled and did as he asked. She felt the contents as they poured over her, very light in touch and fragrance. Lavender and roses petals
came to mind as she inhaled. Dorian pressed his fingers to her head and began to massage her.
“Oh God,” she whispered and closed her eyes. The pressure was tender as he worked the oil against her scalp. Her body relaxed even more as emotions touched her mind; joy, sadness, exhaustion.
“Lean back against the basin, Sophia,” Dorian whispered.
She moved and her back touched the basin. He lifted her arms to either side and she floated, without a care in the world. Dorian continued to massage her scalp and occasionally, water poured down her scalp and neck. Memories surfaced of when she first met Gavin, the hunters, the tavern―of meeting Dorian, their first shared kiss, the kiss upon her bed.
He cupped the back of her head once more and poured water over her head, rinsing the oils. His fingers drew along the length of her hair and when she met his gaze, he smiled.
“Why do this for me?” she asked.
“Because I want to, and I can,” he told her, then winked. “Now, if you would, give me your arm.” She did as he asked. He massaged the oil onto her skin up to her shoulder and underarm. He massaged her neck, to her collarbone, down to the other hand and fingertips.
“One could become spoiled to this type of treatment, Dorian.”
“One would hope you would.”
She smiled and he continued. He moved across her chest and cupped her breasts. She thought he might try to seduce her, but no, he continued to massage the oil onto her skin. She tilted her head slightly as his thumb moved over her nipple.
“Do you do this for all the ladies you’re courting?” She thought briefly of Mila. Little sister, pet, or however he looked upon her, she was a woman of beauty.
He shook his head. “Only you, my love.” Dorian met her gaze and he leaned in and reached for her leg under the water. His hand chilled against her leg, even in the warm water. She paid it no mind as soon as he began the ministrations on her calf to her upper thigh, then he moved to the inner part of her leg, the sensitive area that connects her thigh to her sex.
She bit her lip and moved her legs apart for him. Dorian raised a brow and pursed his lips together. He moved to the other leg and completed the task. He then sighed and met her gaze, his eyes heated with desire and she quickly inhaled a breath.