Embrace the Night

Page 67



incomparable beauty. He had been smitten with her from the first, and she with him. He knew then that what he had felt for Antonina was not love, but lust.

He began to avoid Nina's company, preferring to spend all his time with Rosalia. They had met openly and in secret, pledging their love and devotion, even though he had feared she could never be his. Rosalia came from a wealthy family, while he had no money of his own, no lands, no title.

It had been inevitable that Antonina should discover that he had left her for another woman. Her wrath had been terrible to see. She had threatened to tell Rosalia of their affair, threatened to kill him, to kill Rosalia in front of his very eyes, but in the end she had done none of those things.

"You will regret this, Gianni," she had told him on what he had thought would be their last night together. "The time will come when you will beg me for that which only I can give, and the price will be dear."

He had not believed her. And then, after a wild night of carousing and drinking with Giuseppe and a few friends, he had taken sick with a fever. Giuseppe's parents had summoned the physicians. They had bled him to exorcise the bad humors from his body. They had forced vile concoctions down his throat, but to no avail. Two days later, the doctors went away, shaking their heads, and he had known he was going to die.

He had been trying to accept the fact that his life was over before it had begun when Antonina appeared in his room as if by magic.

"I can help you, Giovanni," she had promised in her soft, silky voice. "Only say you will be mine for one night, and all will be well. I will restore your health, Gianni, and give you riches beyond your wildest dreams."

"Too late," he had moaned, the fear of dying rising up within him. "Too late."
"Not too late, cara mio," she had said. "Only give me your promise."

And because he had been in excruciating pain, because he had been terrified of dying, because he had wanted so very badly to marry Rosalia, he had agreed to do whatever Antonina wished.

As soon as he had given Antonina his vow, a change had come over her. All softness seemed to vanish from her face, and her eyes had glowed with a fierce and terrible light.

She had sat down beside him on the bed and drawn him into her embrace and kissed him. Her lips had been as cold as the grave, and when he tried to pull away, her arms had tightened around him and she had laughed softly, a dry sound, like old bones rattling.

Fear had shot through him and he had struggled harder to escape her, but in vain. His strength was as nothing compared to hers.

With ease, she had held him down, her body covering his as she kissed his eyelids, his cheek, his mouth, her lips gradually burning a path to the side of his neck.

He had gasped when he felt her teeth prick the skin, the sensation one of mingled pain and sensual pleasure. And then he had felt himself drowning, suffocating in darkness and fear. Her skin had grown warmer as his own grew cold, and he had known he was on the brink of death. His heartbeat had slowed, his breathing had grown shallow and labored, and he had been swallowed up in darkness,