Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

Her father’s study was her next destination. When she entered the room, it was dim and badly lit. While the window was unobstructed by any drapes, the early afternoon sun didn’t reach into the room: the window backed up to another home whose wall was too close, preventing the sun’s rays to penetrate at this angle. She couldn’t understand why her father had ever chosen such an unsuitable room for his study.

Bianca lit a candle and appreciated its soft glow as it brought light into the room. While the study was small, the walls were stuffed with books from top to bottom. Many were covered with dust. She sighed. It would take her hours to remove book after book to see whether anything was hidden behind them. She set the candlestick with the lit candle to one side onto a shelf, so the light flooded over her shoulder and went to work.

She’d completely forgotten how many books her father had collected during his lifetime. He’d often read to her as a child, before they’d fallen out, before he’d gotten it into his head to marry her off to the highest bidder. Bianca pushed the thoughts aside and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The hours seemed to fly by as she handled book after book.

“What are you looking for?”

Bianca shot up from her crouching position and turned in the same instance, her heart beating frantically at the shock of being discovered. Lorenzo, dressed in breeches and a shirt which was open at the neck glowered over her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I …” She swallowed hard, trying to buy herself some time. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

His jaw clenched. “I asked what you’re looking for.”

It appeared that he wasn’t easily dissuaded. Only her talent for acting could help her now. She thrust her chin up and pursed her lips. “If you must know …” Then she cast her eyes to the side and sighed heavily. “I was trying to find an old book my dear father read to me when I was a child.” She dropped her head toward her chest, letting out a heavy breath, sniffing in the process. “I wanted something to remember him by.”

Bianca forced herself to think of the first few days in Florence, the time when she’d had to live on the streets, the fear and the humiliation. It made the tears come easily—tears she needed now to fool Lorenzo into thinking she was mourning her father.

When she lifted her face back to him, the first tear rolled down her cheek. And with delight, she saw Lorenzo’s expression change from suspicion to compassion. Ah, yes, she could still play any man like a fiddle. They had manipulated her for long enough, now it was her turn to manipulate them.

Feeling his fingers stroke over her cheek was more than she had expected. His show of compassion took her off kilter, making her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: that somebody cared about her.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he whispered, his hand still stroking her cheek, his body suddenly so much closer, close enough to touch.

She inhaled his scent, the comforting smell of a strong man, a protector, somebody who would take away the pain. When his other hand came up and pulled her closer, she buried her face in his shirt, feeling his hot skin underneath. His arms came around her, pulling her in for an embrace too close to merely comfort. He pressed her against his chest and stroked his hands over her back, caressing her.

“Shh, my darling. Everything will be alright.”

She felt his lips on the top of her head, kissing her hair at the same time as his hand loosened the bun at her nape to allow her hair to cascade over her back. His fingers brushing against her neck made her shiver.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to feel protected and safe, even if it was only for a few minutes. Bianca sighed as her tears stopped flowing and raised her face to him. His eyes had an orange glow to them, the candle light reflecting in his irises more intensely than she’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes.

Without thinking, she rose on her toes and stretched toward him. His eyes widened in surprise, and a moment later his lips met hers.

Lorenzo’s spicy scent seeped into her mouth as she parted her lips for him. At first, he only teased gently, licking against her lips, briefly sweeping his tongue against her teeth, then withdrawing. Was he going to stop again? She couldn’t let that happen. She wanted to be kissed by him, to feel him devour her.

Her hands gripped the lapels of his shirt, drawing him closer. Her action elicited a deep groan from him. A second later, his hand slipped to her buttocks, and he pressed her against his loins.

Bianca gasped when she felt the hard outline of his erection pressing into her stomach and rejoiced at the same time: Lorenzo wanted her. His arousal was evidence of his desire for her. Boldly, she snaked out her tongue and slipped it between his lips, searching for her counterpart. Determined not to let him get away, she stroked against him, the texture and taste of him sending tantalizing tingles rippling along her skin and brushing over her sensitive nipples.