22. Chapter 22
Ines
For the duration of the opera, I feel the ghost of Remus' lips against mine, his calloused hands exploring my body, and the explosive desire to experience him fully doused by my own fear of growing too close to him.
I refuse to glance across the chasm of the auditorium, afraid he's watching or worse, not watching me.
I'm not ready to face him, nor am I ready to dive into what our kiss meant or what repercussions are sure to follow.
I've spent the last several weeks wondering – against all sense of reason – what he tastes like and now I know, and I desperately crave another dose. The thought of how efficient he is with his tongue sends me spiraling into a sea of lustful yearning.
As the performance finally comes to an end and everyone is on their feet applauding in adoration, I sense his eyes on me, but still, I refuse to look his way.
Instead, I take the opportunity to observe the Soberano, who seems to have thoroughly enjoyed himself by the vigor in which he claps.
Although he's smiling, I can't help but pick up on a sinister aura about him, like there's evil lurking just around the corner to do the Soberano's bidding.
Suddenly, as if he senses my stare, he swivels his head toward me and meets my gaze.
My heart thunders inside my chest. I question if I should look away or curtsey.
He tips his head and grins. His acknowledgement makes my skin crawl.
Rogelio slips his hand around my waist and tugs me against him, jarring me from my thoughts and stealing me from the Soberano's direct line of sight.
"What did you think?" he asks softly with childlike excitement.
I force myself to appear aroused by his boldness in tucking me alongside him, but in all honesty, the only way the proximity is palatable is by imagining him as Remus. "It was spectacular! I hope to attend more performances in the future."
"If I have anything to say about it, you will."
One would believe Rogelio's words to be nothing more than a flirtatious empty promise, but I can sense he truly means it.
He's as innocent as a lamb which I will be instructed to one day slaughter.
He offers me his arm and I take it, allowing him to lead me out of his booth, past a stoic Olli standing guard in the hall, and to the foyer to await our carriage.
Although I'm not necessarily the praying type, I implore whatever Saint might be listening to have mercy on me. The last thing I need is for Remus and his date to cross our path. But I have no such favor which doesn't surprise me.
Remus and his lady friend pop up beside us.
When Rogelio notices them, he smiles and tips his hat in polite greeting.
There's a thick tension circulating, but perhaps the feeling is reserved only for Remus and myself.
After all, less than an hour ago we were indecently tangled in a closet while our dates sat completely unaware enjoying the spectacle of the theatre.
"Don Rafael," Rogelio addresses him with forced kindness.
"Don Rogelio." He acknowledges, though his sights are shamelessly pinned on me.
"If memory serves me correctly," Rogelio tightens his hold on my arm, "it's been quite a while since you graced Teatro Castillo with your presence."
Remus chuckles and I can tell by the wicked gleam in his eyes whatever he's about to say is going to be snarky and petty.
"What an intriguing mind you have, Don Rogelio, to keep track of my whereabouts.
" He tugs his gloves onto his hands, each finger spearing into its place.
"I thought it pertinent of me to attend a performance once in a while seeing as I'm paying handsomely for a box, as you well know.
" He raises a finger in pause before clicking his tongue and saying, "Rather I should say, your father knows, since he's the one who pays for all your expenses. "
My eyes widen. What the hell is Remus doing?
Rogelio's shoulders tense and his nostrils flare, seeing red.
Remus has successfully burrowed beneath his skin.
With the silent male standoff in full swing, I do the only thing I can do to diffuse the unspoken strain and squeeze Rogelio's forearm reminding him I still exist. The flare of irritation vanishes when he meets my gaze, and he relaxes.
"How incredibly rude of me." Rogelio motions toward me, his chest swells as if he's showing off his new toy to his rival. "Don Rafael, I do believe you know Senorita Elena Lozano."
I curtsey and hate how amused Remus appears with the motion.
"Of course," he brings my hand to his mouth and skims my knuckles with his lips. It takes every ounce of strength in my body not to shiver beneath his touch. "I believe we danced together at Dona Otero's ball."
And just like that, Rogelio's ego is wounded once more. How he had forgotten about our paso doble performance is beyond me, but it elicits favorable butterflies in my stomach remembering how it felt for him to hold me so intimately, as if no one else in the world existed.
"You look lovely tonight, Elena." Remus' breath tickles my fingers, shooting goosebumps across my heating flesh. His familiar use of my alias's first name is breaking with high society formalities and will surely give Rogelio nightmares as to how intimately we know one another.
"Thank you," is all I say, fearing anything further will ruin my budding romance with the Murrieta heir.
Remus' companion clears her throat, breaking our concentration on one another. "Forgive me. This is my date, Senorita Rosa Jime – "
"Ramona," she corrects with a flare of irritation.
I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.
"Of course," Remus attempts to brush over the mistake, but the lady is clearly not having any of it. "Senorita Ramona Jimenez and I have enjoyed our time tonight, haven't we?"
Her bottom lip trembles as she nods her head in blatant defiance of the tears begging to slip down her cheeks. I wish I could sympathize with her over the lack of true interest on Remus' part but the wicked part of me rejoices knowing I have a hold over him.
One of the attendants makes his way toward us and informs us our carriage is outside. With a curt goodbye, Rogelio ushers me into the chilly evening. I can feel Remus' eyes boring into the back of my skull, but I refuse to turn around to test that theory.
Like a true gentleman, Rogelio assists me inside the parked carriage and claims the bench opposite me. He taps twice on the ceiling and the buggy jerks forward. I glance out the window, my treacherous heart wanting to catch one last glimpse of Remus, but he's no longer waiting in the doorway.
"I hope you enjoyed the evening, Senorita Elena." Rogelio's voice draws my gaze.
"I have immensely." I nod, pleased I can offer him one comment steeped in truth. I did have a great time. "Thank you for inviting me to join you."
He fiddles with his fingers a moment before inhaling a deep, steadying breath. "Would it be…" He clears his throat. "Would it be too forward of me to say I would like to court you?"
I can't help but smile, not only because the plan is working, but because he's a man of honor and carries himself with gentle manners. It's a far cry from what I'm used to from men in the Brogratto. "I would like that very much, Don Rogelio."
"Please call me Rogelio." He straightens in his seat, his confidence restored. "I'm not a big fan of titles. Makes me feel like I'm one of them."
I tilt my head to the side, my curiosity once again piqued by his choice of words. "What do you mean by that? One of them?"
His cheeks redden, as if he's realizing what his words imply and stutters, "Apologies, Elena. Sometimes I feel so comfortable with you my tongue speaks too freely."
"Please know you're welcome to confide in me, Rogelio. If I am to be your future wife…"
The word wife makes me pause. I've not thought of myself as someone's wife – at least not since I was carrying on an affair with Marco and that ended poorly.
Rather, I should say, deadly. It ended deadly.
Sometimes I wonder when my sin will rear its ugly head and expose me for not only being a thief and a gambler, but a murderer as well.
My sudden silence emboldens Rogelio to abandon his seat and claim the open spot beside me, tentatively placing his hand along my jawline. "What a wondrous idea. You being my wife."
It's well-known fact high society courtships move rather quickly into betrothal and marriage territory.
There's not much time allotted to truly get to know your partner.
If you don't solidify the relationship as more than platonic or mere interest, some other man will stake his claim on an eligible and desirable woman.
There is plenty of time to get to know one another once the marriage certificate is signed and the wedding bed is open.
So, for Rogelio, this quick timeline is to be expected, but it's still foreign for me.
Say what one will about the Brogratto District, the poor take their time in deciding to marry for the simple reason of taking on an extra mouth to feed.
It's an expense most cannot afford. So, when a couple decides to marry, they are truly in love and are ready to weather the storms of life together.
Rogelio leans close with intent to kiss me, launching my heart into a rhythmic assault.
I have an important decision to make that will either make or break this scheme.
I can permit him to kiss me and further this charade, although I'd rather him not touch me, or I can recoil and spoil all the work I've already invested to earn my house in the Golden District.
The decision is easy.
When he hovers just above my lips, wordlessly asking for permission to kiss me, I close the gap remaining and press my mouth against his. His kiss is as respectful as he is and with a quick peck, he pulls back, retreating to his side of the carriage with a satisfied grin.