Page 84 of Venice Vampyr: The Beginning

Even now with the lid closed, she felt her body prepare itself for the pleasure it was expecting. She should be ashamed of her depraved thoughts, but her heart couldn’t fault her for what her body needed. In Lorenzo’s arms she felt free even when he bound her and made her submit to his will. And with this freedom came ultimate bliss and a glimpse of what happiness tasted like.

Bianca shook her head, trying to banish the feelings from her mind. Whatever she and Lorenzo had was temporary. It would only last until she found the treasure or until he tired of her, whichever came first. And she hoped to God that she’d find the treasure in time.

As she set about her task to search her father’s old room, she worked methodically starting in one corner, moving along the walls, peaking behind paintings, crawling under furniture, and opening every drawer. Many of her father’s things were still there: his grooming implements, a drawer full of ties, another of stockings and garters. With difficulty, she lifted the heavy mattress of the bed and examined the space underneath, but there was no hidden compartment to be found.

She let the mattress slip back into place, the quick movement creating a dust cloud which settled onto the intricately carved headboard. Bianca took a piece of cloth and wiped it over the carved letters in the center of the wooden piece, removing the dust before she focused her attention on the next area.

The dressing room only held some of Lorenzo’s garments. The servant who’d briefly visited a few days ago, had brought his trunk and moved her father’s clothes to another unused chamber to make space for his master’s garments.

Bianca stared at the trunk. Drawn to it like she was drawn to its owner, she sunk to her knees and opened the lid. An assortment of scarves, ties, and smalls greeted her. She should have blushed at the sight of a man’s undergarments, but she felt no such sentiment. The intimacies they’d shared had eradicated all embarrassment she could ever feel.

She let her hand run over the soft fabric, caressing it as if she was touching him instead. Her eyes closed, making her remember his touch more intensely when her fingers encountered a hard object. Bianca opened her eyes and looked at the item: a box, smaller than the one that held Lorenzo’s favorite toy. She lifted it out of the trunk and opened the lid, curious to see whether it held any other toys. To her surprise, the box contained French letters.

Stunned, she closed the box. Why hadn’t Lorenzo used them? After his valet had delivered the trunk, there’d been no reason to continue their carnal pleasures without protection against conception. Did it not bother him that she could soon be with child? And for that matter, why didn’t it bother her that she could soon find herself in an untenable situation having to support not only herself but an illegitimate child?

Bianca shook her head and rose. Was she playing with fire, secretly hoping that there could be more between her and Lorenzo than just a fleeting affair? Was that why she was taking unnecessary risks? She pushed the thoughts aside, not wanting to examine the emotions that drove them.

The search of her father’s bedchamber proved fruitless. She’d found nothing. Frustrated, she trudged down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen, where a plate of food was waiting for her. Another one of Lorenzo’s elusive servants had delivered it earlier. She wondered briefly why his servants weren’t staying at the house with him. Was it because she was with him? Or did he simply like to be on his own?

As she devoured the food, her thoughts drifted back to her father. Had he sold the treasure before his death and that was the reason why she couldn’t find it? Bianca didn’t believe it. He’d always claimed that the treasure was worth more than the house itself, yet her father had left a mountain of debt behind. Had he sold the treasure, there shouldn’t have been any debt. No, the treasure still had to be in the house.

The slamming of the front door jolted her out of her reverie. She jumped up, eager to be back in Lorenzo’s arms. At the kitchen door she halted, alarmed by a second slamming of the same door.

“We’re not done!” a stranger’s voice echoed through the hallway.

“I didn’t invite you to my home, Raphael!” Lorenzo bellowed.

“I’m not leaving until we’ve discussed this.”

Her heart beating in her throat, Bianca strained to hear more, but the two men had moved into the parlor and shut the door behind them.

She knew it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, but something in Lorenzo’s voice had alarmed her, and she needed to know what was going on between them. And she knew just the place from where to see everything that went on in the parlor without being seen herself.

As a child, she’d loved to play hide and seek and had found a small storage room located on the upper floor right above the parlor. The room provided access to where the parlor’s crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling. While the candles could be lit without lowering the chandelier, in order to properly clean the crystals, the area had been made accessible so the heavy item could be lowered without effort. Holes in the ceiling allowed for a view into the room below to coordinate the lowering of the chandelier with servants in the parlor.

Her stocking-clad feet made no sound as Bianca stooped not to hit her head on the beams that carried the weight of the chandelier. She crouched down and slid back the leather patch that covered the hole, allowing her to peek into the parlor.

Chapter Fifteen

Lorenzo felt his anger boil over and turned to the fireplace where the embers still glowed. “Nico had no right to tell you!”

“Well, I’m glad he did!”

Lorenzo bent down and placed a handful of kindling on the fire, watching as flames licked up and engulfed it, eager to ignore Raphael’s reprimand. His private life was his own. Nobody had a right to interfere in it.

“You have to send her away. She could be a danger to you.”

Lorenzo threw another piece of wood onto the fire and rose, turning on his heels to face Raphael. “Bianca is no danger to me, she’s—”

“She’s human!” Raphael interrupted.

“And how is that any different from what you’re doing? Explain it to me, Raphael! Go ahead. Your wife is human. She lets you drink her blood, and don’t tell me it doesn’t drive you both to ecstasy every time you do it. And you have the gall to deny me a chance at the same happiness?” Yet he knew he could never bite Bianca, because he had to hide from her what he was.

“Don’t bring Isabella into this. This is very different. You don’t know anything about this woman.”

“I know enough!”

“That’s your cock talking!”