Page 16 of The Way You Bite
Chapter Five
“This is quite a reception.” Vee tried to smile at Dominic but couldn’t persuade her lips to tilt upward. She wished the line at the head table hadn’t dissolved the moment she arrived.
Conversations all around halted or went hushed. Most stared. Her notoriety as the only person to defy Dominic made her a curiosity.
Vee wished she could throw a mental mist and make this conversation a little less front-and-center.
“Velvet,” Dominic said low. The single word was layered with the disappointment and frustration of a century. Dominic’s left hand shifted close. His rolled his heirloom ring outward for easy access.
She bit her tongue against voicing a viciousgo to hell. That much disrespect with this large an audience guaranteed he’d terminate her where she stood, regardless of her engagement to Ambrose. Still, she wouldn’t kiss his ring. If he wanted her vow of allegiance that bad, then he could beat her into submission. Right here, right now. Audience be damned. He wouldn’t. Public image mattered too much to him. His furiousdo-it-or-elsescowl promised she’d pay later.
Tense silence shrouded her while he surveyed her from head to waist, ending with a disenchanted sigh.
“So nice you couldfinallyjoin us tonight.” The fury dulled. His eyes narrowed with a speculative slant, and the right corner of his mouth elevated.
Alarm shrieked inside her head. She gazed downward with fake submission. “I apologize for my tardiness, but I was unavoidably delayed.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “By your senseless work. Human pets…ack. ’Tis time Ambrose makes you quit. I’ve been patient…”
She internally rolled her eyes. Patience wasn’t one of Dominic’s virtues. He’d given her two choices when she graduated vet school. Move back here and work as a vet but remain within one hundred miles of him, under his watchful eye, or he would force her back here and not allow her freedom.
Freedom. Such a joke while anywhere near him. But she’d get her freedom very soon, and on her own terms.
“You must retire.” He folded his long, delicate hands in front of him, the left pinky tapping furiously against the table.
Retirement—a euphemism for broodmare-dom. She despised being ordered she produce a kid. She was more than a breeding vessel. The thought of sleeping with Ambrose…ick.
Her mind spit out an image of Lexan. Her body tightened at the thought of sex with Lexan.
No, no, no. She couldn’t think of him now.
“I have great respect for your guidance, but…” She forced a polite smile and gripped her hands behind her back to control their trembling.
A masculine voice whispered in her ear in a clipped British accent, “Careful, love.”
She jumped and looked up at five-foot-eleven of gorgeous vamp, shocked. “Ambrose? I thought you couldn’t make it tonight.”
Ambrose nodded his perfectly groomed blond head at her father. “Dominic. Such a delightful party. I wouldn’t dare miss it, or seeing my fiancée in such a lovely dress.” He sent her a lascivious scan, guaranteed to convince all around their bedroom antics were anything but boring.
“DiFalco.” Dominic’s lips clamped shut, as if holding back a curse. Dominic may hold great power in the States, but the DiFalcos remained the ruling family to which all must bow.
“Do you mind if I borrow Vee for a turn?” Ambrose purred. “Someone needs to take advantage of the live music. Such a rarity these days. The stiffs you invited seem unwilling to soil their shoes on the dance floor.”
Ambrose lifted Vee’s hand and delicately kissed her knuckles. “You are a vision, Vee. As always.”
Her first instinct was to yank her hand out of his grasp, but she didn’t. She hated his smooth-as-silk side and much preferred him as the self-obsessed asshole she’d met behind closed doors. At least the latter was honest.
“I would love to dance. Thank you. Would it be okay, Father?”
Dominic nodded but sucked in his cheeks like he’d just bitten into an unripe plum. “We will speak after your dance, Velvet. Perhaps, all three of us in private.”
She hadn’t expected to avoid a confrontation with her father, but she’d hoped.
With expert precision, Ambrose spun her into a slow waltz. The one other young couple maneuvering the small dance floor fled the moment they arrived. As expected, they attracted a crowd of curious onlookers.
The rhythmic turns to a classic waltz distracted her mind from panic planning. Ambrose’s large hands clasped around hers, strong and warm. She concentrated to maintain the proper waltz interbody space, but she was far from a professional dancer. She tripped on his foot. He caught her without even breaking stride. Her face heated. When she looked up, amusement bled into his hazel eyes.
“I’m sorry. Is your foot okay?” she whispered.
