AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was leaving,” he said. “But I’m not anymore.”
CHAPTER 4
Valeria
While the men took their place at the gambling table, joined now by several of Petre’s acquaintances who arrived shortly after dinner, I circled along the edges of the drawing room.
I could hardly take my eyes off Vasile, no matter how hard I tried. And he too kept lifting his eyes to mine, stealing glances, saying things without words at all. Things about desire and passion. And though I could feel him taking in my curves, the shape of my breasts beneath the dress, the angle of my hips… it didn’t feel a bit like when his brother had done so.
There was a sense of respect from Vasile, an appreciation of beauty that transcended the sexual undertones of his gaze and made me feel special, wanted, desired for all that I was, not just the chance of a few moments of pleasure.
When he looked at me, it was like I was slipping into a warm pool. A hot rush of wetness dampened my inner thighs and I was grateful for the layers of crinoline and petticoats. If not for them, my desire would have been evident for all the men to see. Though I could do nothing to hide my flaming hot cheeks every time Vasile so much as shifted his massive, beautiful body in his chair.
I focused on Vasile’s thick, veined, muscular forearms. And I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to have those big hands touching my…
“Valeria. More port!” my father snapped at me, lifting his glass without taking his eyes off of his cards. The game had begun.
I hated this.
I resisted the urge snatch up all the cards on the table and toss them into the roaring fire, and instead politely did as he asked. The serving girl looked at me in utter confusion as I took the bottle from her.
“Doesn’t like prying eyes,” I said, with a secret roll of my own.
She gave me an understanding sigh.
I approached the table and positioned myself so that when I poured the drink, I could exchange another glance with Vasile. But now that the game had begun in earnest, he did not acknowledge me. I suddenly felt invisible to him.
He drummed his fingers on the tabletop and narrowed his eyes at his cards.
My heart sank.
The other men at the table, other men that Petre had invited, were interested in the game but not overcome by it.
Vasile was. And so was my father.
I recognized Vasile’s expression instantly—the narrow vision, the intense focus, the tight set of his jaw. He was no fair-weather card player. He was a gambler, through and through. I leaned in slightly closer to my father than was necessary, close enough to give Vasile the opportunity to see the swell of my cleavage.
What did I get in return?
Nothing. Not a glance.
Not a clearing of his throat.
Not even a shift of his body.
It was as if I had disappeared behind a curtain of aces and kings.
Suddenly, I detested him. Absolutely, positively despised the very idea of him. Gambling had ruined my life, my mother’s life, as well as my father’s. I could accept a lot of vices in a man.
But never, ever, would I have anything to do with a true-born gambler.
I topped my father’s port and slipped back to the edge of the room. Soon, Petre was out of the hand, and in a huff he disappeared from the room.
After a moment, I took my chance and slipped out the door, and once again out to the front hallway and outside, wishing I had my cigarette case. I needed something to calm my nerves. I walked back out into the dusting of newly-fallen snow, glaring at Vasile’s big footprints, intermingled with mine from earlier.
A sudden sound of crunching snow made me spin around. I hoped to see Vasile again, but instead there stood Petre. He limped right up to me, and grabbed my wrist hard enough to make me gasp.
“You’ve been staring at my brother.”
It was as if he had punched me in the stomach. “Excuse me?”
“You fucking heard me,” he snarled, now all dark eyes and cruelty. I knew at once that the rumors were true and I was in for a lifetime of misery.
I felt sick to my stomach. Hot bile rushed up into my throat.
“I didn’t…” I stammered, trying to pull my arm away, “I’m not… please, Petre, I would never.”
He got right in my face, nearly shoving me backwards.
“Let’s get one thing straight. You step out of line, princess, and I’ll stake you out naked and leave you for the wolves. You will do as I say, or you will suffer.”
With a sudden fury, I ripped my arm out of his grip, and took a step back. I had to fight the urge to slap him right across his sneering face. “Touch me again, you bastard and I’ll—”
