Page 106 of Impenitent Claim

“It’s too cold, Izzy.”

Pursing my lips, I huffed. “Come back to my room with me,” I begged. “Let me warm you up.”

“No, rusalka. You wanted your date. We’ll do no more than kiss.”

“Please.” I held onto him desperately.

His touch slid up my throat, reaching to thread into my hair and lifting the hat loose on my head. He brought our foreheads together and growled, “I said no, Izzy. But if you’re a good girl, and go back quietly, you may play with yourself.”

As if he could control whether I did that or not.

“Are you rolling your eyes at me, little one?” he breathed, voice harsh and clipped.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Only a teeny, tiny bit.”

“Hmm.” The sound was rich and hot. It sent liquid heat pooling between my legs. “When you get to your bed, don’t even take off your clothing. Kneel beside your bed as if to pray. But instead—put that pretty little pink toy down your pants. Think of all the things I’ve done to your body and all the things I will do. And when you come, which will happen very,veryquickly, it will be my name on your lips—not a saint, not a deity.” His fingers dug hard into my scalp, and I had to bite back the cry of pain. “But for heaven’s sake, don’t scream my name. Bury your face in a pillow if you have to.”

I might not have experience dating, but that was one hell of a first date. As Ilya led me through the trees, wandering theshadows and dodging the traps nature set to mock us with, I never felt more alive. My breath misted in front of me, curling in soft tendrils before vanishing into the night, but I felt warm, insulated against the chill. I was nearly free, my first choice already having been declared.

Chapter 40 – Isabella

Afew days came and went since my last encounter with Ilya. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Little gifts appeared when I least expected them. The adult coloring book from my favorite fantasy series with a box of colored pencils was on my desk one morning. The dessert I was denied at the lady’s luncheon waited for me on my bookshelf, discreetly tucked in the knickknacks. A maid cleaning my room wouldn’t have noticed it, but I immediately saw the apple turnover when I stepped in that night. A song request came on the radio for Lesbia from Catullus while I was in the car going to the church with Alonzo for a premarital session, and when we left the song played again. According to the DJ, the passionate lover was wooing his girl.

Me. That girl was me.

This morning, there was a bag of my favorite candy. It wasn’t gourmet. It was regular, good old Mars mixed mini chocolates. I popped another Twix in my mouth and moaned. My clutch was full of the treats. Well…the torn lining was. If the strega took mybag she wouldn’t see anything suspicious, while I could indulge my sweet tooth all night long. I chuckled gleefully.

It was Halloween. I had a kick ass costume, good old candy, and was going to a masked party.

The ball had almost been canceled with the number of deaths going around. The Made Men were on high alert, but it was too important to miss this. It would signal to both our allies and our enemies that we were having internal problems. Besides, this was a business event, and high-rolling societal people would be there. In order to keep our legal shareholders happy, we needed to pretend everything was just fine, that we weren’t falling apart.

While I was having fun, the don and his crony would be squirming.

I popped another mini Milky Way between my lips and grinned at my reflection. Ilya would be there, guarding his employer. Rumor had it he’d won another fight last night. And yet he’d had time to bring me a bag of candy and a bouquet of deep burgundy dahlias, rich black roses, and lush baby’s breath that made for a spider web effect, along with a breakfast sandwich, kept hot in an insulated bag.

I couldn’t get over how beautiful the flowers were, sitting on my bathroom vanity. The wedding might be this weekend, but there was a dark promise attached to the bouquet of flowers. It promised freedom. Well, I was brave enough to escape now. Gio would be safe, Ilya made me an oath. Alonzo’s safety was also begrudgingly given. There was nothing more that needed to be asked.

Swinging my mask from my fingers, I skipped down the stairs, finally ready to have some fun.

“Whatare you wearing?” Cecilia gasped.

I faltered on the top step. The cut of the gown might be lower than I normally wore, but it still concealed ample cleavage. “It’s a costume, Cece.”

The hated nickname fell from my lips and a wave of dread shot through me. She was going to make me change.

“It looks a little plain,” the don observed, coming from his office wearing full 18thCentury Venetian regalia. “How is that a costume?”

They wouldn’t understand the gold snake curving up my spine, nor would they know who Emilia Maria di Carlo was. Just because our little group was going as masked Venetians didn’t mean I couldn’t choose to be one of my favorite fictional characters, who also happened to be of Italian origin, albeit with supernatural roots.

Ilya would make a good Wicked.He probably was a prince from hell, just in human disguise. I looked down to hide my smirk of fiendish delight. It felt so good, so damn good to be imaginative again.

“Cool snake,” Gio quipped, coming up behind me.

“Is that…a tattoo?” Alonzo murmured, and I prayed his words didn’t descend below.

No such luck. Cecilia exploded. My fiancé gave me a sheepish look, offering me his arm by way of apology for setting the witch off.

“It’s a detachable accent piece for the dress,” I explained as we descended.

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