Tempest - Book 1

- 11 -

"Up or down?"

I said releasing an unsure breath.

"I think,"

Imelda said, scraping my light locks back.

"Up. It shows off that incredible face."

She pinned my hair, running the hot iron over wayward strands.

"They can't help but look at you now."

She stepped back with a smile.

I pressed my hands against my thighs, smiling at myself in the mirror. My fingers mussed with the short hem of my dress, the wide expanse of my flesh suddenly too much for such an intimate affair.

It was a strapless Navy thing that hugged the curve of my hips like a well worn glove. I wore gold drop earrings and a soft nude lip. My eyeliner was sharp, eyes seductively feline.

I slipped on my expensive black pumps and spritzed my neck with a soft mist of Lost Cherry by Tom Ford.

"I wonder what is taking him?"

I asked quietly, running my fingers along the cold edge of the marble counter.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and we both turned.

"He's requested her."

Came a voice.

I strode forward, only to meet the bare ghost of where our caller had stood. I gave Imelda an inquisitive brow, and she shrugged.

The hall was dark, quiet. The only sounds were high heels on the stone floor.

This manor was eerie in the darkness, the ceilings reaching on forever, the floor cold and stoic. Anything more, I would need a golden candelabra to illuminate my path as the faint score of organ music rambled through the halls.

There was an ambient glow spilling beneath his door, suggesting life carried on just past the wooded armor.

I pushed it open with blind faith, holding my breath as it revealed my man before me.

He was sitting on the edge of that grand bed, fastening his cuffs with silver links. He sported a well tailored blue suit and a tight white buttoned up shirt.

"Hello Principessa, thank you for grace..."

His mouth fell slack, lips quickly turned in a jovial smile.

"Everyday you surpass the meaning of beauty."

He stood, holding his hand out to me.

I cautiously approached him, hands crossed in reservation. I placed mine in his outstretched palm and he brought my knuckles to those perfect lips and placed a gentle kiss to them all.

"I wanted to show you something."

He said, grabbing my shoulder gingerly.

He turned me to face a wide glass fireplace. It sat in the wall of his room, adjacent to that great Leather chaise lounge.

Hanging above the fireplace in a thick golden frame was...

Me.

It was the photo, except I was painted in shades of charcoal, shadows deepening around my hips. Breasts. The swell of my bottom lip barely escaped the margin of the canvas, staring at him. Tantalizing.

His strong hands slid around my waist, hot breaths brushing across the back of my neck.

"Do you like it?"