Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

And the eyes that stared at her now in disbelief were the most sensual ones she’d ever seen on a man. They were a brilliant blue, which stood out in stark contrast to his black hair. His face had sharp angles, more rugged than elegant, and his shoulders seemed to bulge from his coat. He was tall, and the thought of his touch on more intimate places excited her. Where Salvatore had been handsome, this man was beautiful.

However, the frown on his face suggested that he had no intention of accepting her impromptu offer. Well, maybe her looks didn’t appeal to him. She tried hard not to take his reaction personally. But to realize that she couldn’t get this man to tumble her did put a chink in her carefully built armor.

“So let me go then,” she repeated, not wanting to hear his rejection. His face had said enough. Viola jerked at her arm, trying to get him to loosen his grip on her, but he didn’t relent.

“You want me to bed you?” he asked.

She swallowed away her surprise at his question. Was he considering it? Her heartbeat sped up. “I’ve been a widow for a while and miss the touch of a man.”

“Is that so?” His voice sounded as if he didn’t believe her. Was her story not good enough? She’d rehearsed it many times, and Salvatore had believed it.

“Well, clearly, you’re not interested. So, don’t concern yourself. I’m sure I’ll find somebody.” Where and how she would accomplish this feat, she wasn’t certain.

“Who says I’m not interested?”

Viola looked up at his face and noticed how he let a long gaze travel down her body. She shivered and wet her lips. Yes, this man was stirring something in her. For some strange reason, he was breaking through the uncertainty she’d felt when she’d been in Salvatore’s company. Despite the sweet things Salvatore had whispered in her ear, she hadn’t warmed to him. Whereas this man—

“There’s a place down this alley we can go to,” he suggested. “What’s your name?”

“Signora Costa.” Her throat felt dry as sandpaper.

“Your given name.”

Her brain stopped working under the intense stare he gave her. “Why would you want my given name?”

“Because I’d like to call out your given name when I thrust into you.”





Chapter Four




Dante let the door to the inn’s simple bedchamber shut behind him and watched as the lovely Viola took off her cloak. He hadn’t planned on ravishing anyone this evening, but he never looked a gift horse in the mouth. And Viola was more than just an unexpected treat: she intrigued him.

What had driven her to that disreputable club? She seemed too refined, too well bred for an establishment like that. Frankly, he was extremely glad having arrived there when he did, because the more he looked at her, the more he wanted to be the one to satisfy her secret desires. The thought that she’d gone out to invite trouble sent a severe chill racing down his spine.

Even as a young widow who knew about the pleasures of the flesh, she had no idea what dangers lurked outside. In his eyes, she was still an innocent. And he had a thing for innocent women. Just like he’d always tried to protect Benedetta, a girl of merely fifteen, he now wanted to protect this woman.

To a certain extent, anyway. He wouldn’t hurt her, but while he was fucking her, he would also taste her. Despite the fact that he’d fed earlier in the night, he never turned down dessert. And if her blood tasted anywhere near as intoxicating as the scent of her skin promised, it would be a very sumptuous dessert indeed.

“Well,” she said, her voice trembling in concert with her fingers. He sensed her nervousness and assumed her late husband had been the only man who’d ever touched her. Clearly, this was difficult for her.

Dante walked to her, tossing his coat onto a chair in midstride. “Let me help you with your dress.”

Viola flinched when he put his hands on her shoulders. “I can do that myself,” she stammered.

“But I would like to do it, if you’ll allow me.” He tipped her chin up with his hand and dipped his head. Her breath mingled with his, and he inhaled the scent. “I’d also like to kiss you.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers and nudged them open. Without much ado, he swept his tongue inside her mouth and issued his demand. Her answer was timid. Dante went after her tongue and growled his disapproval. If she wanted to be bedded, she sure wasn’t showing it in her reaction to him. Was he not to her liking? The thought that she might prefer Salvatore’s more elegant features to his rougher ones inflamed him.

He ripped his mouth from hers. “Kiss me back, damn it.”

Her eyes glittered with uncertainty.

“Or have you changed your mind?” He would let her off the hook if she had. He wasn’t the kind of man to force a woman.

The shake of her head was quick but determined. “No!” Just as quickly, she laced her hands around his neck and pulled him back to her.

“That’s better,” he praised and snaked his arms around her back. “Now, let’s try that again, shall we?”

Viola closed her eyes as if steeling herself for his onslaught. It surprised him. Did she see him as some kind of rough beast? Dante paused for a moment. She knew nothing about him but what she’d seen him do: violently beat up another man with his fists. Had that scared her?