Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

“You’re surprisingly protective about the girl. It’s not like you. Are you sure you’re quite alright?” Raphael’s insolent grin did nothing to calm Dante’s constitution.

“You’re one to talk. You’ve gone soft since you got married.”

“You do know I can hear you, Dante, don’t you?” Isabella’s voice came from the sofa.

“I was merely trying to get your husband off my back, dearest.”

“So he wouldn’t question your actions?” she asked.

“I’m my own master. What I do shouldn’t be any of your or your husband’s concern.”

“What of the girl?” Raphael interjected and took a seat next to his wife.

“I promise that no harm will come to her. I’m not a complete bastard.”

“That remains to be seen,” Viola’s voice came from the door.

Dante jerked from his seat and spun around. She walked into the room, wearing the gown she’d worn earlier, the same he’d stripped her off many hours ago. The memory of it was still fresh and made his pulse race. He tamped down his heated reaction to her presence.

“I would have left, but it appears somebody bolted the door accidentally, and I can’t find a way to open it.” She turned toward Raphael, who’d risen from the sofa. “Maybe you would assist me so I can take my leave? My parents will be worried that I’ve been gone so long.”

Her smile was sugary sweet, but Dante knew Viola was anything but. And he wouldn’t fall for it.

“Raphael di Santori,” his brother introduced himself. “Dante is my brother.” Then Raphael turned to his wife who’d moved to his side. “My wife Isabella.”

“Pleasure. Viola Costa. I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. If you please, I’d like to return to my accommodations.” She gave another sweet smile and shifted her body toward the door.

Her last words echoed through Dante’s head. She wanted to return to her accommodations, not her home. Odd. He took a gamble. “If you allow me, Viola, I’ll be happy to accompany you to your hotel to make sure you’re safe. Where are you staying?”

“The Aristo—” She snapped her mouth shut quickly, but Dante had heard enough.

“Just as I thought. You’re not going home to your parents. I’d venture a guess that your parents have no idea where you are.” By the way her cheeks colored, Dante knew he was right. “Well, well. In that case, I’m sorry, my young lady, but I feel it is my duty to keep you here under my supervision where no harm can come to you. I’ll be happy to contact your parents in the meantime so they may come to collect you.”

Viola narrowed her eyes. “That won’t be necessary. I will find my own way home.”

“No, no. I insist. Once your parents have arrived, I’ll be more than happy to release you into their care.” He turned to his bother. “I think that’s the least we can do as hospitable Venetians, don’t you think so, Raphael?”

For once, his brother agreed, albeit with a frown on his face. “I’m afraid it would be unwise to allow a young lady without a chaperone or a companion to leave our house. If you give me your parents’ name and address I will personally send a messenger and make them aware of your whereabouts, Miss Costa.”

Viola huffed and took a few steps toward Dante. He’d hit the nail on the head. She was a runaway and had no intention of being found. Just as well because he wanted her here with him. Until, well ... until he was done with her.

“You, you ...” Her skin glistened, and her lovely bosom heaved with every breath she took. With her index finger, she jabbed him in the chest. “You, you …”

“Running out of words, my dear?” Dante snatched her finger and led it to his lips, giving it a soft peck. “Now, how about some food? All that lying must have made you hungry.”

Viola huffed once more and turned away. Dante couldn’t help but laugh. She was too much fun to spar with. Damn, he liked that in a woman.

Isabella put a hand on Viola’s arm. “Come, Miss Costa. Cook prepared a nice spread for us. Let’s leave the men to their talk.”

***

Viola had no choice. She could not allow Dante or his brother to contact her parents. If they did, her parents would shepherd her home despite her earlier threat that she would cause a scandal. By the time they’d all be back in Florence too much time would have passed, and her health would have deteriorated enough for her to have no strength left to execute her threat. And her parents knew that. No, she could not risk a message to be sent to them. Let them believe she was in Switzerland.

If only she’d thought before she’d spoken, but Dante had immediately caught onto her slip of the tongue when she’d admitted that she was staying at a hotel. He’d beaten her at her own game.

She would have to devise a strategy to gain back some ground, but first, she needed to eat. She felt famished. Her stomach growled on command.

“You must be starving,” Isabella said and pointed to a chair opposite hers at a large dining table.

Viola took the seat and folded the napkin over her lap. “I’m not sure why though. I already had supper.”