Chapter Sixteen
After my conversation with Niccolo, I moved up to the primary bedroom. I felt restless. This place kept my mind in an uproar. The shadows seemed to whisper the horrors from the past. Everything was dark. The windows never let enough light into the big rooms.
I changed into the new red dress. It had a plunging neckline and a high slit.
I wanted to appear seductive and bold, not like the girl who couldn’t handle a pit fight and who didn’t know how to please a man.
I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to prove myself.
Nestore had forced me to marry him. He had searched for me for more than two years.
He obviously wanted me, yet what I had seen today and the knowledge that he hadn’t waited for me made me nervous.
On my way to the dining room, I stopped in the library.
It was the only room where I didn’t feel quite as haunted.
I picked up a book about roses and garden design before I moved into the dining room.
Maybe one day I could plant my own flower beds and create bouquets that would brighten these forlorn halls.
The moment I entered the room, a young maid, maybe my age, stepped in with a pleasant smile. “Do you want to take your dinner now?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ll wait for my husband.”
Uncertainty flashed across her face, and she parted her lips as if to argue, then snapped them shut. She nervously tucked a nonexistent strand behind her ear. Her hair was slicked back in a tight bun without a single loose hair.
“What is it? You can say what you want.”
She looked around nervously, almost as if she worried the walls would attack her. Considering the number of trophies on this wall, mostly animal bone this time, I couldn’t blame her.
“It’s just that the Master doesn’t usually eat.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “He must eat. He’s human.”
She let out a nervous giggle. “He usually eats dinner up in his room. We put it in front of his door and take away the empty dishes later.”
Almost as if he still were a prisoner. My belly clenched at the thought.
“Oh. But now I’m here, and I’m sure he wants to share dinner with me.”
She nodded jerkily. “Okay. I’ll let the kitchen know. When do you want to have dinner?”
I wasn’t sure when Nestore would be home. I didn’t have his number. I didn’t even have a cell phone. “As soon as he’s back.”
“Of course.” She smiled shakily. “Would you like something to drink?”
Why not. “Could you bring me a glass of the red wine my husband always drinks?”
“It’ll be with you shortly.” She backed away, then slid out of the room noiselessly.
I sucked in a deep breath. This entire place, even the staff, felt like it was straight out of a horror movie. I blew out the breath and squared my shoulders. I made a beeline for the two leather armchairs in front of the massive black marble fireplace and curled up in one, then opened the book.
The maid appeared beside me, making me jump.
“I’m sorry. The Master prefers us to move silently.”
“Well, I prefer not to be scared to death,” I said with a smile that softened my words.
She bobbed her head quickly, then put down the wineglass on the small marble coffee table between the armchairs.
“What’s your name?”
“Mindy,” she said, then rushed back out as if the prospect of small talk terrified her.
I took a deep sip of the wine, then relaxed against the soft leather.
Age had softened the firm material. These two chairs, like the rest of the furniture, had already been in this place when my father and our family had moved in.
Maybe they were from Nestore’s childhood, and that was the reason he couldn’t part with them.
I opened the book and began reading the introduction, an overview of the history of rose cultivation.
The clock struck eight o’clock when a shadow moved past the open dining room door. I had left it open so I would see Nestore walking past.
After a moment, the shadow materialized before the door. Nestore stepped into the dim light of the dining room. I put down the book on the coffee table and rose to my feet.
He froze mid-step when he spotted me. His eyes scanned my dress, brows snatching together. The look on his face wasn’t one I had hoped for. It was hard to describe, on the verge of haunted. He shook his head as he stalked toward me.
“Don’t,” he rasped.
I frowned up at him in confusion. “Don’t what?”
He took my hand and pulled me closer, then began to tug at my clothes almost desperately.
Eventually, the dress came off and pooled at my feet.
My underwear, too, was red, and he stripped me out of it as well.
I was speechless. Of course, I’d hoped this evening would end with my clothes on the floor, but not like this.
Nestore cradled my face, his eyes pleading.
“Never wear red again, Amelia. I saw too much red on your skin.”
Remembering how often I had been covered in blood, mostly Nestore’s, I shuddered and understood his aversion to the color.
“Wear white. Only white.”
I nodded. I touched his chest, feeling his heart race under my palms. “Only white,” I promised in a whisper, feeling his heart slow.
“I just thought…” I trailed off.
His eyes left my face, traveling the length of my naked body. He looked almost dazed when he met my gaze again. Desire filled his eyes and kindled my own.
“Are you mine alone?” I asked, terrified of the answer. Nestore had promised me the world when we had been locked in the basement. He had promised me his firsts.
Nestore’s brows puckered as if he didn’t understand the question.
His fingers on my face tightened. “I searched for you for eight hundred and one days, Amelia. I dreamed about you every night. I almost went mad when I thought I wouldn’t find you, so what makes you think I haven’t always been yours alone? ”
I shrugged. “You were with other women. Maybe you think you can punish me by continuing to do so even when we’re married.”
He shook his head with a look of incredulity. “I’m faithful to you. I can’t bear anyone’s touch but yours.”
I pursed my lips, confused, but his mouth came down on mine before I could say anything else. His tongue parted my lips as his hands held my face. Our kiss quickly morphed into something needy and almost desperate.
I tore away, breathless. We stood in the middle of the dining room, and I was entirely naked. What if staff came in?
“They wouldn’t dare to interrupt us,” Nestore rasped as his palms traveled down my cheeks over my throat until he cupped my breasts.
“I told them we would have dinner together as soon as you were home.”
A sharp knocking sounded, and the door swung open. Nestore tugged me against his chest and wrapped me in his fur coat, covering my nakedness.
Mindy’s eyes became saucer-like. “I apologize!”
She turned, horrified.
“Put the food on the table,” Nestore ordered in a low voice. “And next time, you wait before you barge in.”
“Of course, Mr. Romano.” She rushed over to the dining room table, avoiding looking our way.
The feel of Nestore’s strong body pressed up against my naked flesh made me long for his touch, but the shock of Mindy’s presence had dampened the first rush of arousal.
The moment she left, Nestore released me from his tight hold, but I remained where I was. I peered up at his face, wanting to memorize every sharp angle of it.
“This place feels cursed, but in your arms, I feel safe.”
“You are safe, and this place…” He looked around. “This place carries history.”
“It carries pain and misery, too.”
“You can fill it with better memories. In a couple of years, these walls will whisper with your moans and lustful cries, with your laughter and beautiful voice.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s what you want?”
He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I want conflicting things, but I want you.”
The scent of food—meat and herbs, and starchy potatoes—carried over to us. My belly rumbled. I hadn’t eaten in too long, but pressed up to Nestore completely naked, I wasn’t sure if my need for nourishment trumped my desire for his touch.
“You’re hungry,” he rasped against my ear, then nipped my lobe lightly.
I shivered, my nipples puckering despite the heat of Nestore’s closeness. “What about you?”
“I’m hungry in every sense of the word.” He kissed the side of my throat. “Let me feed you, then let me feast on you.”
I nodded. That sounded like a plan I could get on board with. Nestore tugged me toward the dining table. “Shouldn’t I get dressed?” I asked.
“No. Stay as you are.” A bowl of steaming potato gnocchi, another of a stew of big meat chunks, and a serving platter of steamed chard awaited us.
Nestore sank into his chair and pulled me down on his lap.
The feel of his strong thighs beneath my ass made my body flush with more heat.
He put meat, gnocchi, and chard onto the plate in front of him, then speared a gnocchi, swiped it through the sauce, and brought it to my lips.
I opened my mouth and closed my lips around the fluffy ball.
It tasted buttery and indulgent. I hummed my pleasure, causing Nestore’s gaze to darken with hunger.
He speared a piece of meat and fed it to me next. His eyes burned with intensity as he fed me one piece after the other. I picked up another fork and lifted a piece of gnocchi to his mouth. “Now it’s my turn to feed you.”
“You fed me in the past,” he murmured. His hand closed around my knee, then slid higher, along my inner thigh.
My lips parted when he cupped my mound and dipped a long finger between my folds and into me.
He took the gnocchi from me and chewed slowly as his finger pumped into me.
Despite my soreness, I was soaked. He never took his eyes off me as he fed me another bite of meat while fingering me at an unhurried pace.
I leaned back, barely able to chew from the sensations coursing through me.
His long finger massaged my inner wall while the heel of his hand pressed against my clit.