Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

“Good. Send him for a priest.”


“A priest?” She tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t allow it. Her eyes widened, and he knew then that she understood. Her breath rushed out of her lungs. “No. You can’t do that. I won’t allow it.”

He hadn’t pegged her to be this stubborn, but no matter, she would not win this fight. “You have no choice. Only if we can prove that we’re married can a scandal be averted. You know it as well as I do.”

She shook her head. “But you can’t just offer for me and sacrifice yourself. All you wanted was a tumble. It’s not fair to you.”

“Fair? Isabella, I put you in this position. I ruined you. I would be a cad if I didn’t take you as my wife now that our affair has been exposed. Surely you can’t want a scandal?”

She was backed into a corner, and he could kill two birds with one stone. By marrying her, he could insinuate himself into her family. He would be able to get close to her despicable cousin and hopefully find out who the other members of the Guardians were. Nobody would suspect him. However, he would have to be careful.

“Of course I don’t want a scandal, but I’m not going to ruin your life in addition to mine.”

“Ruin my life?” He pulled her closer to his chest, crushing her bosom against him and sliding his hand onto her ass. “My sweet angel, if I get to spend every night with you in the way we spent the last one, I can see how my life would indeed be ruined.” Yes, his second reason for marrying her was right there: he didn’t yet want to let go of the passionate woman in his arms.

Raphael smirked and ground his cock against her. It was still semi-hard, and the way her barely covered ass felt under his palm made sure all available blood was flowing to it now to bring him to another raging hard-on. “So, here’s your choice: marry me so we can spend every night of our future giving each other pleasure, or ...” He paused and stroked her intimately, knowing he had no second suggestion.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes. Now get dressed before I drag you back to bed. The next time I ravish you, it’ll be as your husband.” His chest swelled as he said the words, words which should have scared him and made him run the other way. But to know she would be his wife in a few short hours filled him with unknown pride.

***

Isabella spent most of the day in a trance. Raphael had done the honorable thing and married her. She hadn’t expected it. There was no reason why he should. He had nothing to lose—only she did. But she wasn’t brave enough to reject his kind offer, despite the fact that she feared his kindness would wear off soon when he was stuck with the reality of marriage.

She allowed Elisabetta to fuss over her hair as she piled it high on her head. She’d chosen a dress made of red silk for the ball. It had been made for her only weeks before Giovanni’s death, and she’d never before worn it. But when Raphael had discovered it in her closet, he had assured her it would be the right gown for the occasion. She needed to make a statement: she wouldn’t cower in the face of vicious rumors.

“Ready, Signora?” her maid asked and met her eyes in the mirror.

She nodded and stood.

Raphael waited for her at the foot of the stairs. She watched him as she slowly glided down step by step, holding her gown slightly off the floor so she wouldn’t trip.

Isabella looked at her new husband, who seemed frozen where he stood, his lips slightly parted, his eyes glued to her person. His attire was of the latest fashion. These weren’t the clothes she’d lent him the night before. It appeared he’d sent a servant to retrieve some of his own garments.

She let an appreciative glance travel from his head to his feet and felt her sex clench. She’d never seen a more virile man, who could ooze sex like a poppy oozed opium, and who was just as dangerous and forbidden. His eyes were darker now, and they pinned her with a stare so intense she wondered whether she’d done something wrong. Was he angry with her?

As she reached the foot of the stairs, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips for a kiss. Then he took a step closer. His voice was low when he addressed her. “Angel, you take my breath away. I wish we didn’t have to go to this ball to save your reputation—I’d much rather continue ruining you.”

Raphael dipped his head to kiss her cheek, then whispered into her ear, “You make me so hard, I can’t guarantee that the next time I ravish you will be in a bed.”

Her breath hitched at his words. She didn’t care where he took her next, as long as he took her. Her cheeks flushed at her scandalous thoughts. Where had all her manners gone? Had she thrown them to the wind?