Chapter 6
"Icanexplain,"thegirl said, wringing her little hands.
Pedro blinked several times, but he had not invoked the image—an apparition in a cloudy dress stood in the middle of his hangover. Mayhap the port had made him delirious. Light from the stained glass danced on her gauzy skirts. A wide-brimmed bonnet covered her hair and face. Still, her swanlike neck, dainty shoulders, and trim back offered tantalizing glimpses of her curves. Nothing like the jaded whores the madam had sent last time. This must be his brother's doing. Still, Pedro hadn't had a woman since Carmen, and his body decided it was done with celibacy.
Pedro circled her. "You've smelled my liquor. You tested my blades. You've read my book. Care to try the couch? See if it's soft?"
He might be wrong, with the veil covering her face, but he could bet her cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink. Her lace-covered fingers traced the grapes embroidered in her bodice furiously. Was she nervous? But he had barely begun. Was that her game? To pretend innocence?
Intrigued, Pedro took a step closer.
With a sharp intake of breath, she stilled. "I shouldn't have touched your things. I... I came here to— "
"I know why you came," Pedro whispered in her ear.
Her fragrance was layered like a delicate white wine. What did she look like beneath the tulle veil? Would the illusion of innocence keep after he removed the bonnet? With a swift gesture, he unlaced the bow under her chin and flicked the hat away. Her hair cascaded down her back and flirted with her hips, the unusual champagne strands curling enticingly.
"Please, this is improper." She crossed her arms over her chest as if he had bared her clothes, a flush rising on her pearly skin.
Her face. Blue, innocent eyes, and rose lips. Only a beauty mark above the left corner of her lip added a mischievous note to her celestial countenance. Loveliness such as hers belonged in a Raphael painting, peeking at humanity from a lofty pastel cloud.
What the devil should he do with an angel? "She shouldn't have sent you here. Didn't she tell you what I do with breakable girls?"
She laughed nervously and reached for her discarded bonnet, her hand shaking. "Why, I'm not made of porcelain or crystal. I'm quite strong. Indeed, I—"
"Then why do you tremble?" Pedro caressed her cheek, feeling the downy hairs rise to meet his fingertips.
She replaced the hat, her fingers fumbling with the ribbons. "I assure you, sir, I came here for a business reason, and I'm perfectly indifferent—"
Pedro caught the offending object and flung it away. Business indeed. She thought this was a transaction, did she? It was the only sensible notion the girl had spouted since she’d stepped into his life. While she watched him with widened eyes, Pedro brushed his thumb over the naked skin above her glove. She stopped speaking, and the tip of her tongue came out to lick her bottom lip. She wasn't indifferent to him. Why the knowledge mattered when he was paying, he could not say, only that it did.
A vision flashed of her touching him, trailing her delicate fingers over his arms, and he released her hand. "Are you new to this?"
"Why, yes, I've just started—"
"Say no more." Pedro silenced her with a fingertip over her mouth.
He would not touch an angelic whore new to the trade. He would not trace her frowning brows and would not relieve her of the tight corset. He would not tie her hands and bend her over the piano. He would not release her champagne hair and see it reflected over the lacquered surface while he pounded his lust on her until she screamed. Who was he fooling? The screaming would start before he brought her to release. Most likely when he showed her the ropes.
"Look at me." Pedro lifted her chin.
She obeyed, and her eyelashes unveiled the bluest irises he'd ever navigated. The depths swirled with emotion, and he got lost in the ocean of her eyes.
To hell with good intentions. Pedro cradled her face, his leather-gloved palms engulfing her cheeks. The girl clamped her eyelids shut. He came closer, their breaths mingling.
Kissing whores wasn't part of his transactions, but her impossibly soft lips lured him. He paused for a second and then tipped her head and joined their lips. Warmth flooded his body, the sounds and sights of his sins receding, leaving only roses and tea, silky strands of hair against his skin, and the pounding of his heart.
Pedro broke the kiss. Her pull was dangerous. It took him several seconds to still his breathing and push her away from him. "Run, little angel. Fly back to whatever cloud you came from, and don’t come back. Be thankful I’m not in the mood to give chase.”
She raised her fist as if to slap him.
Pedro caught it before the strike and stared into stormy eyes. "You cannot hurt me with blows."
She tugged her hand from his grasp. "You... you abuser of unsuspecting women. Unhand me now."
A gunshot blasted outside, followed by a scream. Pedro straightened, gut hardening. The girl gasped, eyes darting to the door.
Pedro raced to the window. Light bounced on the white gravel of the courtyard. Three men paced, rifles leaning on their shoulders, hulking over Salgueiro's entrance. They dressed in militia uniforms, but he could not make out any crests. One of Pedro's guards, shot through the chest, lay in the flowerbed.
