Black Lace (Complete)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Chapter Two

Fingers scrambled as I raced forward and tried to pry the door open. It took me a moment to realize it was a pull door and not a push. The realization reddened my cheeks, so when the door swung open to reveal Mr. Aziel Herrera, I was already a blushing mess. Desperate to keep my promise to my Father in even the slightest, I averted my eyes from the man, instead dipping down into an elaborate curtsey. I felt my bodice drop from my skin, revealing a view of my breasts underneath. Though shame wrecked my mind and heart, I finished the curtsy and stood upright again, looking to the floor as a sign of respect.

Respect or submittance? Mother had never specified, but in the moment, stood before a man I did not know, eyes cast to the floor as his were free to roam my entirety, I felt no respect for him. I felt weak.

Panic surged with reverence through my limbs, spreading like a ticklish wildfire. Father had always said he would protect me, that being weak was okay. But where was he now? Where was he when danger appeared?

It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps avoiding his stare would do me no good.

"Please, do come in," my practiced tone said, sweet and light. There was a politeness to it, and with politeness came distance. Yes, distance. Keep it. Use it. Do not come too close to danger.

Danger will get you burned.

I stepped aside and held the door with a shaky hand, hoping it might still the slight tremors running through my body. It did nothing but shake the door as well.

I heard the heavy fall of footsteps. Still I kept my eyes down, following the floor. Large, shiny black shoes passed my vision as the man—Mr. Herrera, I supposed I should call him—entered the entrance hall. I could feel as his eyes made a large sweep of the hall, grand and elegantly lit as it was, before his stare returned to me once more. Oh, how heavy his stare felt. I wished I could cower and shrivel beneath his stare, perhaps let the floor consume me altogether.

But I stood straighter. Lifted my chin.

Before I knew it, my eyes had settled themselves rather brashly on a pair of dark ones, blackened like oil as my own. My eyes had always been round and wide, innocent and open. But his were slanted, curved just the right amount to make his casual stare feel like a glare. They had an impatience beneath them. I felt as he studied me, judged me. I swallowed as I realized he must be surprised that I'd met his stare. It took me another second to realize that the maids and butlers had arrived, sliding his thick coat from his wide shoulder and his bag from his thick fingers. It took me yet another to realize that my introduction was well overdue.

"Uh—pardon, sir," I offered morosely, trying to keep my nervousness from my tone. "I am Mr. Almasi's daughter, his only heir." I curtseyed once more, this time not lowering my eyes from his as I did so. "My father had some urgent business to attend to, so he and my mother are not available right now." I paused as I realized he probably didn't care. It was late in the day and the only thing he probably wanted now was some hot tea and a soft chair to sit in. My cheeks reddened as I mulled over my idiocy. Stupid, stupid Romina! I cursed to myself. "I do...I will..." My eyes widened in self earned embarrassment as my words stumbled over themselves. I was sure he could see the mortification on my face. My words caught and I decided it better to stop speaking altogether.

Mr. Herrera saved me, breaking in to speak. "The pleasure is all mine..." He paused, looking calculatedly into my eyes as if searching for some long lost relic. Was I a relic? To him? A man? He waited a moment further before clearing his throat. "...name?"

Of course. Idiot. "Romina."

"Romina." Mr. Herrera smiled as he tested the name on his lips, swirling his voice and lips around it like a fine wine. He savoured it, clearly, lastingly. No one had ever said my name like that. My cheeks reddened. "Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you indeed."

He reached out a long arm and took my hand, bending down as he lifted it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss along the back of my hand. Heat bloomed where his lips met my skin. I felt like I was cast in a spell, a spell woven entirely by this man. What was he, a wizard? No. I had to remind myself of the purpose of his visit. Work. He only wanted to work.

He released my hand after what seemed longer than necessary, but I brushed it off and smiled, dipping into another curtsey. I was careful to not go lower this time and expose my chest like that. Father would be so disappointed if he ever found out. Mother would be horrified.

A man, let alone a man I didn't know, to see the soft outline of my breasts? Unforgivable.

For shame. I did lower my eyes this time, refusing to meet his stare. I had not seen many men before, so his figure did seem strange to me. He was tall and...and thin. But his shoulders stretched so wide beneath the expensive material of his shirt, I feared they would burst through at any moment. A lightly veined hand was visible beneath the tight cuff on his wrist, tanned and darkened to a dark, dark beige. His hips were narrow and his legs long; I did not take much notice to his face. Though my heart willed me to examine more than his eyes, my brain willed otherwise. And I always followed my brain.

"Come, Mr. Herrera," His name rolled surprisingly smoothly off my tongue. I thought I saw his lip curl as I said it. I turned and motioned towards the Eastern archway. "The sitting room is that way. I'm sure you've had a long and tiring travel, so please," I offered a smile once more. I was becoming quite gracious with these smiles. "Do come rest. Follow me."

He followed as I led him through the Eastern archway and to the nighttime sitting room. Long curtains hung from towering windows; fire-lit lamps lined wood stained tables, and velvet armchairs and couches decorated the floor. I motioned towards one of our best seats. He sat. I smiled.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked.

"Yes, some tea would be nice." He replied. I was about to turn and leave, but a strong hand wrapping around my own caught me in place. I pulled to a stop and looked down at our connected hands. Mr. Herrera was staring intently at the red spots on my right hand, and they darkened past oil, past coal...to something much darker and much more sinister. Those same eyes met mine with startling intensity, set and angered. "Did someone do this to you?" When he spoke, it was almost a low growl. The low rumble of his words shook me, and in my shock I managed to slip my hand from his, pulling it to my chest defensively.

"No, of course not. It was...an accident. Yes, just an accident."

Mr. Herrera settled himself back into his chair, gaze set on the cracking fire opposite him. I noticed how the flickering reflection of fire did not appear in his eyes. I shivered.

But it was not from the cold.

"Go on, then," he said harshly. He rested his hand against the side of his head, mind deep in thought. I could only pray that his thoughts were not on me.

Though I had a feeling that they were.

"Yes, sir." I curtseyed.

And I left.