Page 13 of Branded in Love
“Yeah.” I nod, pleased. The corner of my lips slightly curls up.
“Everything’s settled,” Sasha says, reentering the room. He notices Luciana’s presence, and halts. Instinctively, he bows his head to her, then says, “Good afternoon.”
“Ciao,” Luciana says, unsure of how to behave. “You’re Sasha…”
“Yes,” he says, straightening as a light smile thins his lips. “Nice to see you again, miss.” He lowers his head, then shoots a knowing look at me before he leaves the room.
“I won’t get in your way,” she says. A crisp smile follows. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
You'd never get in my way,I want to tell her. “Yeah,” I say instead. My sanity hangs from her every word.
Luciana turns and walks out of the library. The door closes behind her.
My lungs release with a hastened breath, and I shut my eyes, knowing myself doomed. Doomed, and in love with a human.
11
LUCIANA
The house was impressive from the outside. Inside, it’s even bigger. I’ve spent the entire afternoon meandering through the vast halls, discovering its many rooms as if I wandered inside a museum. Frescoes reminiscent of the Titian decorate the ceilings. Bacchus and Ariadne are the constant themes. There are other references to mythology, like Venus and Mars, but not once have I spotted a Christian subject. It seems odd to me, but then Gavriil has often expressed himself in pagan terms.Gods,he says. I love the way he says it.
They say one can learn a lot about a person judging by their homes. Even if this is his summer home, I bet I can pick up more about Gavriil. For the time being, I can see he prefers order and having clear spaces. Even his desk was clean when I walked in. And the library, no clutter in sight... Good thing he didn’t get to see my room.
My cellphone buzzes in my jeans back pocket. There’s a message on the screen.
Marco: Everything all right, cara?
“Oh, now you care, Marco?” I mutter. Where was he when I needed him? I’m so angry at him. I put the phone away, back into my pocket.My stomach growls. I hope it’s time for dinner soon.
At the end of the hallway, I glimpse a flood of amber light. I walk there, wondering what’s beyond.
Tall glass doors open to the manor’s garden. As I cross the threshold, I find a terrace with marble flooring. To my left, I see a small dining table, set up with white linens, candlelight, and glistening silverware. At the end of the terrace, Gavriil stands by the balustrade, looking over the gardens. Handsome in a spotless dark suit, hair combed back, tied into a low coil. He hasn’t noticed me.
I look down at my ripped jeans and casual pullover. “I didn’t bring any formal clothes…” I mumble. This guy comes from another world. A world of butlers, and PAs, and suits for dinner. I should have considered that.
He turns, his shoulders perfectly squared and hands slipped into his pants pockets. Gleaming maroon eyes. Gavriil’s stare lingers on my face for a minute, then land on my own. A soft smile tugs at his lips. “You don’t need any,” he says simply.
My cheeks burn. For a minute, I think he meant I didn’t need any clothes.
He takes a hand to his neck and loosens the tie until he slips it off. His fingers move swiftly to unbutton his shirt’s neck. And all the while, I’m standing here, gawking at him. I can’t help it. He’s gorgeous.
Finally, he removes his jacket and tosses it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, leading me to the table.
He pulls a chair for me. I sit, stunned, as I take in the beauty that surrounds us. “Do you always have dinner like this?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Gavriil grabs his seat. He silently stares at me for a minute. “Not always,” he says in a low voice. “I thought you might enjoy the fresh air.”
I smile. Smile like a fool. One quick glance at the table and I notice a set for two, a tray of artichoke and goat cheese bruschetta, insalata caprese, and two dishes covered with plate clochettes.
“Where’s Sasha?” I ask. “Will he not dine with us?” I hear myselfposhingout. Good grief. Am I that desperate for him to like me? I can’t help it. He’s usually so troubled and distant with me.
I suppose I should be grateful to carry those worries in my head, instead of actually panicking because a horde of vampires is after me. Vampires. It sounds so unreal. And yet, I saw Trent’s fangs up close the minute he lunged at me in the park.
“He’s already dined,” Gavriil dismisses. “He had to leave early to… um… see some friends.”
How guarded he is. I’m sure he’s carefully omitting something. I might have figured him out. He’s probably trying to protect me. “You can tell me,” I suddenly say, certain that there’s more.
Gavriil sighs. His expression relaxes as if he’s taken a load off his chest. “I’ve asked a few friends to come over and… lend me a hand, just in case.”
