Page 29 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
His piercing stare glanced her one more time before he turned his attention to the beautiful woman seated to his left… and kept it there. The woman, Ciara, Siena’s friend, had flirted her way through all the earlier courses, and now acted as if all her birthdays had come at once and Rico was the birthday cake she was going to eat. She might as well have licked her lips at him for all the subtlety she was showing.
If Marisa had thought the man she’d wanted to stab with a fork had flirted outrageously with her, that was nothing compared to how Ciara flirted with Rico. The worst of it was, he clearly didn’t mind. If anything, he was revelling in it and flirting back, even if he wasn’t pawing at her the way she was pawing at him, fingering the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and then having the audacity to pinch his bow tie too!
Marisa pretended not to notice and chatted to the gentleman on her right, who was, mercifully, a happily married man who only did a spot of the mild flirting that was practically compulsory for an Italian man. Mild flirting was normal. What was not normal was feeding your dinner partner a spoonful of dessert whilst giggling coquettishly as Ciara did to Rico.
Coffee was poured, plates of pretty petit fours laid out, but Rico and his flirt only had eyes for each other.
Marisa ate three chocolate petit fours in a row, more to stop herself throwing her wine glass at the pair of them than because she wanted to eat them.
All the excitement and anticipation had drowned under a growing weight of unhappiness and humiliation, and it was a struggle for her to pay any attention to her charming companion, who was now telling her all about his latestgrandchild.
Some people were already rising from their seats and seeking out their friends. She longed to rise with them. She felt sick. Studiously avoiding the flirting couple in front of her, she forced her lips into a smile and was grateful her mask hid the rest of her features.
She wanted to leave. If she hadn’t been seated with her back to the wall and so would be utterly conspicuous when she edged her way out, she’d take sanctuary with her sister at the other side of the horseshoe… except her sister was getting to her feet and so was Gennaro, and now they were crossing the dancefloor towards the exit with their hands tightly clasped. Understanding suddenly struck her like a bolt of lightning, and she watched her sister and brother-in-law leave the ballroom with a strange ache beating in her already hurting heart.
Her heart hurt even more when the flirting couple got to their feet too. She was still keeping her gaze far from them, but they were there in the periphery of her vision, Ciara’s coquettish giggles an echo in her ears that landed like nails on a chalkboard.
Marisa’s misery was complete seconds later when they disappeared from her periphery, and the coquettish giggles faded.
The live band who’d been setting up were ready. The main chandeliers were switched off, leaving the room aglow with the dim, romantic lighting of the smaller chandeliers, casting everyone in shadow and giving the atmosphere a gothic, seductive feel.
The evening’s compere took to the stage and introduced the band, and invited everyone to couple-up and take to the dance floor.
“Would you like to dance?” her dining companion asked kindly.
She shook her head, hardly able to dredge even a smallsmile for him. “That’s very sweet of you, but I bet your wife is waiting for you to dance with her.”
He beamed and bowed his head, and then he, too, left the table.
With everyone either on the dance floor or leaving their seats to go on it, Marisa snatched at her chance to leave. She would slip through the crowd but not look at anyone. If she didn’t look, she wouldn’t have to see Rico holding another woman on the dance floor.
Finishing her wine, she pushed her chair back and edged the length of the table. She was two chairs away from the end of her section of the horseshoe when a tall, muscular figure dressed in a beautifully fitting tuxedo and a black mask that perfectly suited the predatory wolfishness emanating from his piercing blue eyes appeared, blocking her escape route.
She came to an abrupt halt. Everything inside her contracted before rippling violently, and she didn’t know whether to turn on her tail and flee in the opposite direction or violently push her way past him.
Before her frozen feet could decide which way to go, he performed a mock bow. “Would the beautiful lady care to dance?”
“No.” She looked over his shoulder because it hurt too much to look in his eyes. “Please let me pass.”
The silence that followed was as loud as the thuds of her heart.
“You’re upset,” he said, the lightness in his tone gone.
“Not at all,” she refuted stiffly. “I simply don’t want to dance.”
“With me specifically or with anyone?”
“Let me pass.”
Another silence followed. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll let you pass. But you have to give me one dance.”
“No thank you.”
“I’ve never heard a fuck off delivered so politely.”
Her eyes darted to his before her brain could stop them.
The violence inside her grew.
