Page 51 of Trapped By Vengeance

Frowning, I comb my hair and pull it back in my leather tie.

Knock. Knock.

I turn my head just as the heavy wooden door to the bedchambers twice as large as my last hotel room swings open.

Valda steps inside wearing a scarlet red gown that was clearly tailored to her form. Unlike the previous dresses she’s worn, this one has strange flaps hanging from her neck and shoulders flaring behind her almost like bat wings. It is a strange style, but I’ve never understood the fashions of those who had money to spend on clothing meant for more than mere survival.

But it’s hard to focus on her dress when the rest of her person is also stunning. Valda’s hair is now dry and flows in gentle waves down her back, not restrained in any way. It glows in the firelight. Unlike her eyes, which seem dead as she turns to me. “I came to escort you to supper.”

Tearing my gaze up her long velvet skirt and close-fitting bodice that needs no adornment except the pale skin it contrasts against, I can’t help but smile. “You look ravishing.”

She gives me a little twirl before resting her hands on her hips and looking me over. “And you look good enough to devour.”

“What?” I glance down at my borrowed garments. I’m not even wearing my coat, which is drying by the hearth.

Then Valda is suddenly before me as the servant boy hurries out of the room. She slides her arms over my shoulders and locks her fingers behind my neck, trapping me.

But I don’t fight as she kisses me languidly, like we have an eternity ahead of us.

As the scents of lavender, violets, and bleeding heartfill my nose, I wonder if perhaps Valda is right. How could someone with lips so soft and supple and absolutely intoxicating as hers be wrong?

My hands grasp her hips as I kiss her deeper and more urgently, though I already know I could never have my fill of her.

Laughing wickedly, she cruelly pulls away, her dark eyes sparkling as she looks up at my panting face. She doesn’t appear lost for breath at all. “Itisbetter this way.”

I stare at her dumbly. “What is better?”

“Kissing you when I have the power. Now, escort me to supper.”

Her words give me no choice but to offer my arm. I’m so desperate to feel her touch again, even if it’s just her slender fingers clutching my elbow. But what she said before that . . . sounded like a threat. Is she still holding the fact that I kidnapped her over my head?

Of course she is. I just need to find out how she intends to use this to her advantage. What does she want from me that she doesn’t think she can get with a bat of her eyelashes?

I lower my voice as we descend the spiraling staircase that led to my tower room. “And how long do you intend to threaten me into submission?”

Valda pats my elbow. “Only until dessert, wolfman.”

Frowning, I glance up to where I left my coat. If I have to flee, I’ll have to leave without it. And I only have an unsheathed saber at my waist to defend myself.

That, and my teeth and claws.

My stomach churns as Valda leads me into a dining hall with a table half as long as my ship centering it. Everything about its ancient mahogany and the eleven pale men wearing the riches materials sitting around it screams age. Not that any of the men appear old, but their very postures scream oldmoney.

And at the head of the table, with an empty seat on either side of him, is Baron Schwerin. The fur cloak over his shoulders signifies his role as Baron in the service of the Emperor, and his clothing underneath is no less fine than those of the other men at the tables, though devoid of all color.

Baron Schwerin stands when he sees us, a grin on his face that looks stiff from disuse. He clangs a spoon against his goblet. “Gentlemen, my daughter, Lady Valda, and her special guest!”

The introduction is unnecessary. Every man’s eyes were on Valda from the moment she stepped into the room. Not leeringly, but because one simply cannot ignore a woman like her.

But the way I was introduced as a “special guest” and not by name, or even as her alleged rescuer, makes my skin crawl.

The men applaud, drowning out the sound of my pounding heart as I take Valda to the right hand of her father. I pull out the chair for her and she glides into it. Then I go to the only chair remaining— just across from Valda and to the left of the man I loathe.

The man who could order my death in a moment or give me all I need to support myself for the rest of my life, in a breath.

Thankfully, at this moment he is ignoring me in favor of his daughter, whom he smiling at proudly. One would think the story was that she single-handedly slaughtered all the pirates who abducted her. “You have done well, my jewel.”

Instead of glowing at the praise, Valda drops her gaze. “Thank you,Vater.” She doesn’t glance my way.

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