Page 55 of Venice Vampyr: The Beginning

“Viola,” he ground out while jerking up his trousers and rising from his chair.

“No, please. I don’t believe—you can’t—”

“Dante, there you are.” At the voice, Dante swiveled on his heels and saw his friend Lorenzo enter the room. When Lorenzo’s gaze fell on him and then on Viola, he bowed briefly. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Dante could see him inhale and knew that by now he would have picked up the scent of sex in the air. It still hung heavy in the room. When Lorenzo’s eyes flickered in interest, Dante shot him a warning glare. The lascivious suggestion that had clearly been on his friend’s lips, died instantly.

At least one disaster was averted, because having his friend suggest they share Viola for an hour of unadulterated fun was not going to happen. Yes, he and Lorenzo had shared plenty of women—and in every conceivable way possible—yet there was no way in hell he’d allow another man to put his paws on Viola. Not even his best friend.

Dante cleared his throat. Lorenzo’s interruption couldn’t have come at a worse time. Hell, he’d proposed to Viola, something he thought he’d never do until the words had actually spilled from his lips. And by the looks of it, she didn’t believe he was serious. But he was.

“Lorenzo, I see you can still smooth talk your way around my servants to allow you in even when I’m occupied with more important things.”

Lorenzo approached with a smile. “If I didn’t, I would rarely see you. Where have you been the entire week? Nobody’s seen you.”

Dante glanced back at Viola, who stood at the fireplace, her expression blank. He raked a long look over her. “I was occupied with more important things.” He paused and locked eyes with her. “Much more important things.”

The air prickled with tension between them. Severing the contact with her, he turned his head back to his friend, whose face was colored with surprise.

“May I introduce Signorina Costa to you? Viola, this is my friend Lorenzo.”

“Charmed,” Lorenzo answered and bowed in Viola’s direction.

“Signore,” she acknowledged him politely.

“Now that you’ve assured yourself that I’m well, I’d like to—”

Lorenzo held up his hand. “As much as I respect your privacy, you’ll have to hear me out first. Something is brewing in the city.”

Dante raised an eyebrow. “Brewing?” For once he wasn’t interested in getting involved in anything that might be going on outside of his own four walls.

“Nico came to me an hour ago. Apparently you pissed off some man who’s now screaming bloody murder. Something about you stealing his woman.” Lorenzo looked past him toward Viola. “Not that I can really blame him.”

Dante didn’t have to be a mind reader to know who might be having it in for him. “I’m assuming you’re referring to a man named Salvatore.”

He heard Viola’s indrawn breath behind him.

“The very same.”

“He’s no threat to me.”

“And to her?”

Dante sucked in a breath. “Viola is under my protection. She will not leave this house without me.”

He heard her gasp behind him and turned. Her eyes were wide, but it wasn’t shock anymore. It was disbelief. “I’m still your prisoner? I thought ...”

“You’re holding her captive?” Lorenzo asked before Dante could soothe Viola’s concerns.

“Stay out of this, Lorenzo. And besides, it’s not true.”

“How could you?” Her voice was low, breathless. Unshed tears rimmed her eyes as she stormed past him toward the door.

He didn’t try to stop her, but he would not drop the subject. “You’ve not given me an answer yet, Viola, and I will have that answer. We’ll talk when Lorenzo has left.”

She didn’t acknowledge his words and swept out of the room. He listened as she stomped up the stairs before he turned back to his friend.

“An answer to what?”