Cara MIA - By Book One of the Immortyl Revolution - By Denise Verrico Page 0,22
his background. Something under this disciplined and elegant exterior, maybe the posture of his powerful frame, or the arrogant set of his full mouth spoke savagery. Danger. Somewhere in the dark corners we’d met before… ”
Joe stifled a laugh. “The gothic stuff… really Mia.”
“It’s all true. He was all that. Ethan was unlike anyone else.”
“And of course you fell madly in love with him?”
“Madly… yes, it was like madness… ” I must have been sitting there for awhile with my mouth hanging open, because he waved a hand in front of my eyes.
“Are you still here, Mia? You must tell your story.”
I related my history while he listened intently.
“He appraised me with the air of a connoisseur. “You’ve a European flair. Women of your nationality have a certain, vitality, about them, very attractive.”
I shook my finger at him. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you? I’m on to you.”
“How can one seduce a charming young lady when she’s equally adept?”
I lowered my eyes demurely. “I’m no siren. I’m just a little girl who does some acting.”
“You’re totally aware of the powers you possess, but if the innocent pose amuses you, retain it by all means. It only adds to your appeal— beguiling little bird of prey.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I hope I don’t bear too strong of a resemblance to that little monster.”
He leaned over to me and looked me in the eye. “You have potential you don’t yet realize. When I first saw you onstage you captivated me. I was amazed that some little ingenue could wield so much power. There’s much more to you than meets the eye, but the vision before me is most pleasing, I must say.”
He knew me too well, studying me as if I were a new species he’d discovered, and this infuriating attitude was driving me mad for him.
“Continue,” he ordered.
Well, how do you like that, already telling me what to do? I looked up in surprise at his imperturbable icy gaze. Not someone you’d want to displease. Mmm, I liked him even better.
I went on. He listened, nodding his head on occasion. Then he inquired about Aunt Selena’s whereabouts.
“No idea. Hope she croaked, the old bat.”
He threw his head back, laughing out loud. People turned around and stared. He didn’t care in the least. “You’re a scamp, Mia!”
“Selena would call me a lot worse,” I said. “After a party at Richard’s place I auditioned for my other role. I’ve been playing in repertory ever since. There you have it, Maria Michaela Paola Disantini’s fall from grace.”
Ethan grasped my hands. “You deserve better, Mia.” I looked up to the most determined stare I’d ever seen. Strong fingers caressed my wrists, running rhythmically over the veins. “End it.”
The entire place went quiet. I was barely aware of people around us. Far off, dishes and glassware clinked, music played but I was removed from it all. Ethan made everything fade into insignificance. He’d spoken of being captivated by my performance. Then what was this he was doing to me? He touched my wrist to his mouth and to my surprise, licked it. Man, was I hot now. Two pinpoints of blue-white light bore into me like twin lasers. “You’re worthy of great love, far more than that bloodless thing can give you. No broken promises. Isn’t that what you really want, Mia?”
I wanted nothing more than those parted lips all over my body. “Ye-s-s-s.”
“I will stop at nothing until you are mine.” He gripped my wrists so tightly I thought they’d break.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped, trying to wrest my hands from his grip.
“I won’t be trifled with. You will let him go.”
A flame burned in those regions of ice. His lip curled back. I could’ve sworn he was fanged, his face taking on the predatory snarl of a panther, dark and lethal. My body prepared the way for him, weakness about the knees, wetness, nipples insinuating themselves through the black satin of my dress, heart pumping furiously.
“Yes-s-s,” I answered, panting.
“Don’t disappoint me.”
He released me. The room kind of shifted sideways, leaving me dizzy and nauseous. “Oh God,” I groaned, sinking to the table, holding my head between my hands.
“What is it?”
“Too much wine. Please take me home,” I pleaded.
“Yes, of course.” He helped me to my feet. My high spiked heels wobbled a little, so he took my elbow and steadied me, wrapping his other arm around my bare shoulders. The place was nearly empty, still I was embarrassed, struggling to regain