Rises The Night (Page 39)

He moved, and now she felt him behind her, the unmistakable validation of his words pressing into the small of her back. He pushed her hips against the rail, holding her there from behind, as he placed a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin just behind her earlobe. His mouth opened, warm and sighing with breath, and feathered delicately over that same area, light and sensual, sending great, tickling shivers along the back of her shoulders.

"The truth is, Victoria, you don’t have to trust me, or to feel any emotional obligation to this alliance in order to assuage your desires. You need not fear that I will be another Rockley and demand what you cannot or will not give."

She felt his chest rise and fall behind her as he drew in a deep breath and kissed along the tendon that jutted from the side of her neck; she’d tipped her head to the other side as if he were a vampire who’d caught her in his thrall.

Her knees wanted to buckle, but the railing was there to catch them and save her from that indignity. She’d had no idea—no idea—how much she’d missed this awakening, this enlivening of her body. Even his mention of Phillip did not allay the growing pleasure.

His hands had moved from the railing to her br**sts, and they lifted in his palms when she drew in a deep, quavering breath and reached to touch his head behind her. One finger eased down beneath her bodice to find her nipple and brush over it, and then his arms dropped from her, hands moving back to the railing on either side of her.

Victoria tried to move, to turn to face him, but he kept her in position, looking out at the sea, with his hips and another insistent appendage. "No, you don’t, my dear," he said in a most uneven voice, deep in her ear. "I told you I would not be provoked, and I won’t. And don’t think I will allow you the excuse of my earlier demands for recompense. I have decided that you have quite fulfilled any debt you might have to me."

She realized she was shaking, and damp everywhere, and quite suddenly alone.

Left alone, standing at the rail with the sea breeze brushing over her like the wisp of his mouth.

Damn him.

"I wonder who shall be the first to give way," Kritanu murmured into Eustacia’s ear. He stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, and rumbled a chuckle against her back.

They’d been enjoying the sea evening from a high deck near the stern of the ship when Victoria positioned herself at the railing below. When Sebastian joined her moments later, Kritanu and Eustacia could have moved on, but didn’t.

Thus they had been privy not so much to the actual verbal exchange betwixt the two young people, but enough of their activity to discern what was occurring.

"I certainly hope Victoria has enough sense not to make an impulsive decision, or one ruled by desires instead of reason," Eustacia replied. But she had seen the way her niece sighed and leaned into Sebastian, and how she’d drawn deep, shaky breaths after he’d left. When she thought no one would see.

"I’m certain she wouldn’t do something so imprudent. Gardella women are certainly not known for their impulsiveness when it comes to matters of the heart."

Eustacia could not contain a smile. "What a shrewish strega I’ve become, vero? Age is getting to me and becoming too heavy a burden. I have forgotten what it is like to be young and tempted by a young, handsome man."

"A young, handsome man nearly eight years your junior." He was laughing behind her and pressed a kiss to her ear. "Oh, how you fought your attraction to me. I was too young, much too young, and I was only a Comitator, a mere trainer, not a Venator, so I was beneath your notice."

"I was furious when Wayren sent you to me! As if you, at seventeen, knew more about fighting vampires than I, a chosen Venator, who had been vis bullaed for nearly four years, since I was twenty. Of course, I had no idea how much I would learn from a Comitator." She half turned to look at him, and he adjusted to her side, so they leaned on the railing, looking at each other. They were exactly the same height: his golden, compact body and her slender one that stooped just slightly with age.

"I know it. And I was stunned by your beauty and put off by your rudeness, your cheeky attitude, and your abhorrent fighting skills."

"I never tire of hearing you reminisce about my stunning beauty."

"And I never tire of hearing you claim that, thanks to Wayren’s insistence that I train you, your life was saved numerous times."

They smiled at each other, companionable and comfortable in the night and with their memories. Though her joints throbbed more than usual, and despite the fact that she was apprehensive about returning to Rome, Eustacia would not have wished herself back to those younger years.

"Your niece is just as beautiful and talented and stubborn as you were. It is no wonder Vioget looks at her the way he does."

"I do not know all that has transpired between them; I fear it is more than I would like, and I hope there is no lasting attachment there."

"You do not wholly trust him."

"No. I cannot. He can be a valuable ally; he already has proven himself helpful to us. But I cannot take him at face value, for he plays whatever role it suits him to play, whenever he wishes. And he plays it well. He will say and do whatever he must to get what he wants."

"And what is it that he wants?"

"That is what disturbs me the most, Kritanu. I do not know. I do not know what is truly in his heart."

"Perhaps you are feeling a bit chary about your own intuition because of Max’s disappearance. You trusted him implicitly."

"Trust. I still do and will until my grave. He is either dead, or… Well, I do not care to think on it. I was able to learn nothing about him or his whereabouts in Venezia; I can only hope we shall find him in Roma."

"If not, then you fear the prophecy will come to pass."

She nodded once. "As our mystic Rosamund wrote: ‘The golden age of the Venator shall end at the foot of Roma.’ If Nedas does indeed loose the full power of Akvan’s Obelisk, I fear this battle in Roma will be the end of us all."

Chapter 13

A Wager Is Made

After her interlude with Sebastian, Victoria stubbornly stayed away from all areas of the ship’s deck when the stars and moon were out, confining her strolls to sunlit ones.It was odd seeing him every day, including during those daytime walks around and between the masts and other objects fixed to the deck. She was used to having him appear unexpectedly—not being seated across from her at a meal. He acted as though he barely knew her, politely bowing and calling her Mrs. Withers whenever they came in contact, and spreading his charm evenly among the four other females on the ship. The captain’s wife and her sisters were duly charmed.