Page 102 of House of the Raven
He walks around the table and comes to stand a few paces in front of me. He bows deeply, reaches for my hand, and presses a gentle kiss between two knuckles.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, his words polished but somehow forced.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
He pulls out a chair for me and helps me sit, then takes the place across from me. He gives a moment’s consideration to Bastien.
“Is he your guard or your servant?” Don Justo asks.
“Both.”
Bastien’s mouth twists slightly, which gives me enormous satisfaction.
“I must say, dear Princess Valeria, that I was rather disappointed not to find you at Villa de la Paz.”
Those blue eyes hold mine, and I sense the shrewd quality of his character that I heard about from members of the court.
I reach for a bowl of fruit. Making sure my movements are calm and unhurried, I serve myself a few slices of orange and apple, then set the bowl down.
My response is as unhurried as my movement. “My apologies, Don Justo. You should know that I am a willful woman and hate being ordered about. I wanted to remain in Castellina for my father’s funeral, and that comfort was denied to me.”
As he mulls over my answer, I watch him closely. If he wants a submissive wife, I want him to know he’s looking in the wrong place. Perhaps, a little clarity will send him away.
“Willful, huh?” He leans back, savoring the word with a smile. “I do love a challenge.”
Well, it couldn’t have been that easy, could it? Of course, it had been wishful thinking on my part. He wouldn’t allow something as trivial as my stubbornness to get in the way of his ambition.
I clear my throat. “I will not be a challenge, of course. Not if I’m given what I want, what I’m used to.” I spear a piece of apple with my fork and take a dainty bite.
“You will not lack for anything, I assure you.” He seems affronted by the suggestion that he might not be capable of providing for me.
Maybe this is an angle of attack. “I am a princess.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I told my sister I will not be married off like some sort of nuisance she wants to get rid of. I want it done the right way.”
One of his fine eyebrows goes up. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that I want a proper engagement party and a proper wedding at the Basilica de Castellina, presided by Archbishop Septimo Aquila, of course.”
Now both of his eyebrows are up, looking as if they might join his hairline to make his majestic mane even thicker.
“I… I wholeheartedly agree.” His mouth stretches into a huge smile that shows his back molars.
As I suspected, he’s immensely gratified by this. He wants so badly to get higher in the rungs of Castella’s social ladder that I couldn’t have provided him with a better set of news. He has no idea the Castellancrema de la cremawill eat him alive.
He interlaces his fingers, which are blunt and coarse. It is in this roughness that the mercenary is, at last, revealed. “You should haveeverything befitting a princess, and I would hate to be the one to rob you of that.” He reaches across the table and places a rough hand on top of mine.
I resist the urge to pull away, but it turns out to be a mistake, as he interprets it as some sort of encouragement. He rises from his seat and circles the table, seizing my hand and pulling me to my feet.
Without any sort of prudence, his stare lingers on my cleavage before belatedly meeting my eyes.
“You’re delightful and more appetizing than I imagined,” he says, acting as if he’s giving me a compliment. Except I’m not a scrumptious dessert for him to devour. I’m a woman of intelligence and strong, independent will.
In a flash, his arm goes around my waist, pressing my body tightly against his. A wave of revulsion rolls up from the pit of my stomach. He angles his face, and my revulsion mixes with a heavy dose of panic. He intends to kiss me.
Bracing both hands against his chest, I try to push him away, but his grip is firm.
