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Chapter 11 – Talia
As his broad shouldersdisappeared around the building, I brought my fingers to my lips and blew out a thin breath. “What was that?” I whispered.
The butcher was a damn good kisser. Not that I’d ever kissed a man before, but my practice lessons didn’t count. Sensuality was one of the many things I was expected to master for the good of our family, and those tutorials couldn’t compare to what I’d just experienced. Nothing could have prepared me for that encounter with. My lungs still weren’t working properly; the bastard had literally stolen my breath!
He stole my breath. Mine.
Dammit! That should have been my moment. While he clearly enjoyed our kiss, it should have been me rockinghisworld, not the other way around. It had been the perfect opportunity to seize control. My lessons had kicked in, but my emotions and the experience had swept me away. Instead of beginning the process of binding him to me, I’d lost myself to his touch.
“Dammit all to hell,” I seethed, smacking my clutch against the building’s wall. That couldn’t happen ever again!
I wrenched open the staff entrance and peered into the dimly lit hall. No one was down here, so I made my way to the stairs. Once in the upper kitchen, I was directed to the hall. Although there were odd looks from the staff, they didn’t comment on my sudden appearance. I slipped away and found the ladies’ room. Mercifully, it was empty.
I dropped my hands onto the granite counter. There was athunkresulting from the motion. I looked down where the rock I wore had twisted and smacked into the vanity top. I held it up under the bathroom light, getting my first proper look at it. The ring was insane, gaudy and sparkly. Secretly, I liked it. It would have been something I chose if given the chance. A single large stone sat in a nest of intricate metal work. Smaller stones graced the band down either side, stopping where my fingers met. It was stunning and fit perfectly.
I opened my clutch and extracted a compact of foundation and a tube of lipstick. With shaking hands, I powdered the areas the butcher had smudged when he’d forced my head back, and then again when he’d consumed my mouth. I applied a fresh coat of lipstick next. It was hard to do with the tremble in my hand, but I didn’t mess up the bloodred lines. My hair was easily tamed with my fingers, and once my face was fresh, I pulled out my phone to message my father.
Me: Drakos questioned my intentions, and I sold my sincerity. He believed me.
Looking at the text message, I considered reporting the kiss. But I stopped myself. I was still trying to tame my racing heart. My body burned from his touch, heat pooling between my legs. It was mortifying to admit he had such an effect on me.
I gripped the counter, moaning aloud as I replayed the kiss. I wanted so badly to touch myself.
I want him to touch me.
I shook my head. How could I have thought him cold? He wasfire. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d be incinerated.
“That’s not happening,” I hissed, lifting my gaze to stare at my reflection. “I’m winning this.”
I would be in white tonight and tomorrow, but black was in my future. With that reminder firmly in place, I hit send on the message.
~*~
Ididn’t let on howbadly my feet were pinched as we entered our house. Claude hadn’t come home with us. He left to spend the night drinking and carousing with friends after the rehearsal dinner. While our family kept our heads to the ground, there were plenty of seedy, want-to-be gangsters who didn’t ask too many questions and with whom my brother could hide out with. My father’s paranoia and secretive ways were always satisfied, allowing Claude to have a certain level of freedom I couldn’t even imagine.
It had been an exhausting evening trying to put on a show all night, and I was weary and wanted my bed. All I had to do was climb the stairs and walk to my bed, which was waiting for me down the hall. But as I crossed the foyer, my father called out in a voice that brooked no argument, “Talia, come to my rooms.”
I cleared my throat. “Of course, père.”
The master suite was down the opposite corridor. I’d rarely ventured down these halls, but as we pushed into his room, it was obvious nothing had really changed. My father’s sitting room was immaculate. Sterile. There were few places to sit, and my brain ran tangents trying to determine why he’d brought me here.
“Come.” He pulled at his tie, undoing the bow, and dropped it carelessly on a table in passing. The valet would take care of it later.
My adrenaline spiked. This was highly unusual. I hadn’t displeased him, so there should be no need for any punishment. Not that he brought me into his inner sanctum for that anyhow. But still, I couldn’t wrap my mind around a good reason to be invited into his room.
A wash of relief flooded my veins as we entered his closet. Walking to the second island, my father squatted before the drawers and cabinets built into the structure. There was a safe behind the double set of doors. As he turned the nob, I quickly memorized the combination. It was easy, something I’d mastered early in my training.
He reached inside and pulled out several velvet boxes. Jewelry. My lips quirked slightly, fingers twitching to reach out and touch. He handed me a box, and after setting the rest down, opened one as well.
I sucked in a small breath. My box held rubies. Great, dangling, teardrop earrings and a matching choker nested against the cream velvet interior. I wanted to trace my finger along the masterpieces but didn’t want to appear greedy. “Père, these are stunning.”
