Page 16 of Branded in Love
“Sasha…”
He halts. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Tonight’s dinner was superb,” I tell him with a sullen voice, trying to smooth the dreariest mood. “Luciana passes her compliments to you.”
He gives me a dry smile. “Perhaps I should have stuck with culinary school.”
I shake my head. “Yourotherset of skills serve a better purpose with me,” I say, leaning against the desk. “And they are much appreciated.”
The smile on my Enforcer’s lips slightly broadens. And for a split second, he looks like the young man of twenty-three that he is.
Sasha pulls the door open and leaves.
13
LUCIANA
It’s 3 pm when Gavriil’s driver drops us off at the Pantheon. Sasha steps out of the vehicle first. He sweeps the crowd with a glance, then opens the passenger door. Gavriil descends from the car. He dips his hands into his black wool coat and mimics Sasha’s gesture, studying the horde of tourists with an appraising stare. Only then, he opens the door wider and allows me to come out.
It’s a sunny afternoon, but October winds chill the narrow street where the shadows of the low sun creep fast. I’m so glad I brought a jacket with me.
Sasha stops beside the driver’s window. He leans down a bit and whispers something into the man’s ear. The driver silently agrees to whatever he’s been told, and the silver BMW drives away.
The Piazza della Rotonda is crowded as usual. I find myself scanning through the faces that surround me, the same as Sasha and Gavriil… It then occurs to me. “Hey,” I tell Gavriil.
His expression is stern when he eyes me sidelong.
“The sun is still up,” I say. “Vampires only come out at night, so we should be safe, right?” I crack half a smile.
Gavriil exhales a long breath. He looks at the people, discarding friends from foes with a merciless glare. It shoots a sliver of ice down my nape.
My brow slips into a frown. “Right?” I insist as we move down the Via de Pastini.
Undiluted fierceness glints in his dark brown eyes when he looks at me again. The man is absolutely feral, with a mane of chestnut hair swaying in the breeze as we move, and an inextricable expression. He halts and pulls a door open. Without saying a word, he signals me to go inside.
I do as he says.
In a second, I’m engulfed in a bustle of overlapping conversations and porcelain cups clinking as they land on their saucers. “It’s a coffee shop,” I blurt. People eat pastries and drink espressos.
Vintage black and white photographs decorate the walls. Italian films from the sixties. I recognize Marcello Mastroianni and Anita Ekberg, Ursula Andress and Sophia Loren.
Gavriil’s hand suddenly folds in mine. A thrill rushes through my limbs at his touch. Never mind that he’s not answering my question. His grip obliterates everything. I let myself go and follow him across the small coffee shop, dodging chairs, tables, and people moving in the opposite direction.
We head to the back of the shop, to an area with a sign that explicitly says “Employees Only”. Well, he doesn’t care, and he opens that door. I look over my shoulder. Sasha is always two steps behind us.
We cross the threshold into another world, it seems. The lights are dim. The walls are all draped in burgundy. Satin curtains frame the entrance to a long and narrow corridor.
When the door closes behind us, Sasha does not join us. He stays behind, in the coffee shop.
I follow Gavriil’s steps when he halts without warning. I almost crash into him. We’re standing so close, I can listen to his quickened breaths. When he turns, he inches close to me fast. My heart jolts at his nearness. The heavenly scent of his cologne floods my lungs. It’s intoxicating in the most pleasurable way.
The space is so limited that when I move, my back presses against the wall. He leans forward even more. “Some vampires, especially very old ones, are capable of resisting broad daylight…” he whispers. His voice is laced with velvet that binds me and lures me to him. “You will be safe as long as I’m with you. I promise.”
I nod. The minute he steps back, I breathe again. My pulse throbs hard in my ears and throat. I wonder if he can hear it. I feel he can hear it. It’s silly. And yet… I flush like a fool.
When he releases my hand, it hurts a little.
I follow him. At the end of the hallway, we come to a door. The minute he pushes it open, I catch the sound of rippling waters. Between him and the door, I glimpse a small courtyard with a central fountain. Rosebushes and trees, stone benches set around thefontana.
