I sidle closer, as close as I dare.
‘Yes, we’ve had similar problems, as you already know. I’ve had to double the guards on our UK estates. And their upkeep is becoming increasingly expensive – the amount of clean-up they require! Filthy creatures, really.’ Artos Ravenna sounds annoyed.
Asshole.I’mhuman. I turn away, taking another sip of my drink.
‘Not all of them, surely, Artos. Why, Emelia here is a rare beauty.’ Cool fingers curl around my upper arm and I flinch, nearly dropping my drink. I turn to see Mistral close to me, his glorious face like something from an ancient coin.
‘Emelia.’ My father takes my hand, pulling me gently from Mistral’s grasp, linking his arm with mine. ‘Are you enjoying the evening?’
‘Er, yes. Yes, I am.’ I decide to go for it. ‘Um, I keep hearing people talking about North Winds, though. What’s that?’ I smile, my eyes wide. My father’s lips twitch. Artos Ravenna comes forward, taking my free hand and bringing it to his lips. His hair is darker gold than Mistral’s, his features sharp in his lean face. He’s taller than I am, though not as tall as Mistral or my father.
‘Lovely Emelia! She is delicious, Aleksandr, truly so!’ Ravenna cries. ‘My dear,’ he turns his attention to me, ‘Stella told me she saw you the other week, at her Moon party. She flits about so much, one week a party here, another week there – I barely see her myself!’ He’s too jovial, as though he’s covering up for something. I wonder what she told him.
I manage a smile. ‘Um, yes, that’s right. But anyway, what about?—’
There’s a sharp clapping noise and we all turn. My mother stands at the centre of the room, like a perfect jewel in a gleaming setting. ‘Listen all,’ she cries. ‘Halloween is nigh, the moon rides high, so let the celebrations begin!’
A gold embroidered silk curtain hangs along one side of the room. Mother claps her hands again and it falls, revealing a band of musicians and a new group of dancers, glittering and lithe, wearing even fewer clothes than the previous group. There’s a cry of excitement, moans as they enter the crowd, the musicians starting to play. The beat is wild, infectious, and the room starts to sway as one, couples twining around each other. I’m glad my father has hold of me.
‘Lady, will you dance?’ Mistral holds out his hand. I glance at my father. His brows draw together, a brief flicker, but he knows he can’t really refuse. He may outrank Mistral, but there are courtesies to be observed. He brings my hand to his lips, kissing it under the guise of checking my anti-feed. He nods once, before handing me to Mistral.
And then I’m in Mistral’s arms.
ChapterTen
SUNRISE
Mistral leans in close, his brilliant blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s devastatingly handsome, and he knows it. He twirls me around the room, but goes too fast at first and I clutch at him as my feet leave the floor. He laughs.
‘My dear Emelia, forgive me! You’re so like your mother, I’d forgotten your, er… condition.’
‘My condition?’ I raise my eyebrows. Thankfully, he’s slowed down, my feet touching the floor once more.
‘Your sublime humanity.’ He makes it sound like a caress. I don’t give a shit. All at once he’s not that attractive. I try to pull away from him.
‘I would have thought it fairly obvious. I’m not that much like her.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short,’ he says, his lips close to my ear, holding me so I can’t move. ‘You have more of Penelope in you than you think. I do think my son would like you.’
‘I’ve already met them both.’ I didn’t care for either of them, both arrogant blonds like their father.
‘I mean my other son, my third,’ he says.
His third son? I frown.
‘I don’t believe you’ve met him.’ He’s still so close to me, his voice a purr. ‘He’s… away at the moment. I think you two would get along.’
The music changes, becoming slower, more sensuous. Uh-oh. All around us, couples are getting closer. My father appears, his hand on Mistral’s shoulder. ‘If I may,’ he says. I make a face. I don’t want to dance with Mistral to this music, but I don’t in a million years want to dance to it with myfather. Still, there’s nothing either of us can do. Mistral releases me, bowing.
‘It’s been a pleasure, Emelia.’
‘Thank you.’ My father takes my hand but, thank darkness, instead of dancing he leads me through the crowd to the buffet table. Perfect. I do need wine, after all. I pick up a glass, pale golden in the candlelight.
My father grins. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Why?’
He raises his eyebrows and nods towards my glass. Shit. I don’t drink in front of my parents. I’d grabbed the glass without thinking.
