Page 22 of Secrets of the Six

"Last chance, Vibora," he swallows hard, as he rasps. "Yield."

I should take him up on his courteous offer. The last thing I want is to be standing naked in front of him, but my stubborn pride won't allow those defeatist words to seep from my lips. I tilt my chin higher, defiant to the end. "I do not yield."

He smiles, as if he expected that response and is fully prepared to go through with his threat. "A quality I admire."

A loud, slow clap suddenly echoes across the garden, drawing our attention to the second-floor balcony where Doña Otero applauds in her silk nightgown. Her hair isn't in her expected updo, but lies flat against her chest in a long, white braid. Instead of harnessing the appearance of the powerful matriarch she is, she almost looks girlish.

"Well, that was invigorating to behold," she says once her applause ceases. "Quite entertaining."

It's then my cheeks redden remembering my disheveled state.

Salvador sighs, sheathing his rapier. "Did we wake you, Doña?"

"Hardly. I've been sitting in my bed for the last half hour trying to read this book," she waves the leatherbound tome around haphazardly. "But watching you two dance is far more interesting."

I know without a tremor of doubt in my heart, had Doña Otero not interrupted us, Salvador would have my pants in tatters, and I'd be forced to walk inside completely naked. Before she can ask me any impertinent questions or chastise me for my unladylike behavior, I hold my head high, grab my rapier off the gravel pathway and my pistols from the table, and march back to the house. My shoulder brushes Salvador's but neither one of us speaks.

"Goodnight, Ines," Doña Otero teases as I traipse to the door. "I'm sure your dreams will be sweet tonight."

I don't honor her insinuation with a response, but when I do finally lay down for the evening, I find sleep cruelly eludes me. My thoughts wander to what would have happened had she not interrupted, and I hate myself for being excited by the thought of Salvador's rough hands sliding over every inch of my bare skin.

I groan into my pillow. Tomorrow is going to be insufferable.

Chapter 8

Ines

It's been another week of high-society hell and Salvador hasn't taken his keen eye off me since he caught me attempting to leave the premises. I'd be flattered by all the unwanted attention, if I wasn't stifled and borderline claustrophobic every time he popped around a corner, silently reminding me he's still nearby should I dare scale the wall again.

But as annoying as he is, Doña Otero is doing her damndest to show him up.

Chew with your mouth closed, Ines.

Sit up straight, Ines.

Don't bite your fingernails, Ines.

Ladies don't curse, Ines.

Don't snarl at Salvador from across the table, Ines.

Ines. Ines. Ines.

I'm beginning to hate the sound of my own name but at least I'm progressing.

Unfortunately, at dinner last night – whilst combating intrusive thoughts of flicking bits of fried potato across the table at Salvador for fun – Doña Otero told me today's lesson would be the toughest by far. As if all her other teachings have been a breeze. I have half a mind to crawl back to the Brogratto. Thievery wasn't honest work, but it was certainly easier than this high society bullshit.

I might complain, and to Lupe's irritation mutter curses under my breath every morning when she helps me dress, but I am far too stubborn to quit. The first ball of the season is less than a week away and at this point, I want to prove myself wrong and deceive all the ons and Doñas who never would have given me a second glance.

So, I press onward.

Today's dress is fancier than the previous ones. The off-the-shoulder scarlet gown hugs my curves in all the right places, lifting my breasts, sinching my waist, and accentuating my hips. The skirt flows outward at my mid-thigh and gives me a sense of feminine power I've never known before.

"Men will bow to you," Lupe whispers as she quickly fashions my hair in a loose bun at the back of my neck. She finishes the look by dragging red rouge across my lips. "I wouldn't have believed it upon first looking at you, but you really do look like a lady."

"Careful, Lupe," I tease, glancing at her through the reflection in the mirror, "I might think you like me."

"Never that," she shoos me to the door. "They're waiting for you."