But even then, my heart will remember.
Because I never want to forget the night my life changed forever.
Now I can truly empathize with my sister and her decision concerning Rafael. It was her love for him that drove her to desperation because the thought of never seeing him again was more than she could fathom. That concept has become real to me because of the feelings I have for Tristano, all of them bubbling in my chest. I’m like the champagne I drank not too long ago, light, airy, and nearly bursting. Or perhaps this man is the flavor I’ve been without all of my bland, tasteless life?
Whatever the substance, I hunger for it.
For him.
I peek up at Tristano from underneath my lashes, suddenly shy and unsure of myself. I’ve never been one hundred percent confident around him and that was understandable, considering his reputation. Yet, this is something different. It’s a sense of vulnerability that’s not physical.
My emotions are in danger of being rejected or dismissed.
Somehow I need to find out if he sees me as Carina’s little sister, as a temporary burden, or something else. Yes, he desires me, that’s a given.
But does he wantme, Violetta, the woman inside?
I may not know everything about myself and I certainly don’t have anything to offer in the material sense, however, if he really appreciates who I am as a person, none of that will matter. Until I have confirmation one way or the other, there’s no reason to share my feelings with him or anyone else. Not that I would, but with Carina back in my life I could tell her.
The idea of that makes me uncomfortable now. If Tristano doesn’t care for me, or doesn’t want more than my body, then I’d be better off keeping my confession to myself. There’s no reason for me to seek out public embarrassment and shame.
I’ll keep this secret, and if Tristano shreds it, then I’ll bury the information deep inside my heart and set it on fire. It’ll become ash, the secret along with it, and they’ll both be destroyed.
But if he feels anything for me…
“What has you smiling,ribelle?”
I jerk up my head to find his gaze already on me. “I’m concentrating on the steps so I don’t stumble. I’ve never been very good at this.”
He gives me a lazy smirk that makes my stomach flutter. “Yet you suggested it?”
“I did, and it’s because I wanted to dance without being ordered to, while knowing it was only a precursor to a life in bondage. I wanted to dance with a man ofmychoosing, not my father’s. And I wanted to dance so you’d touch me.”
My face flames at the boldness of my response, but I meant every word and it’s too late to retract them or act as though they weren’t said. Besides, if I want to know whether or not Tristano sees me as something other than a fling, I have to start somewhere.
I didn’t necessarily have to be so blunt about it, yet here we are.
He halts in the middle of the dance. It’s so abrupt I teeter precariously to the side and he has to steady me. His grip on my waist is firm and strong, like him, and when it tightens, as do the muscles along his jaw, I regret being forthright.
“What do you mean?” His voice is so low, so quiet I barely hear him even though I’m mere inches away. Without being able to discern the inflection, or lack thereof, in his tone, I can’t figure out if he’s angry or just confused.
I wet my lips and his gaze locks onto my mouth, his eyes nearly glowing with ardor. “My parents never gave me freedom of any kind. My father decided what I was to wear, what food I would eat, and what I spent my time on. I hated that, hated him for turning me into a servant. Not even that since our household staff were able to get away and go to their homes and families, but I was never permitted to leave. The dance lessons weren’t my choice, but tonight I’m taking the skill he forced me to learn and using it for somethingIwant.”
My breath stills in my chest while I watch the different emotions that briefly flicker over Tristano’s face. I’m able to catch glimpses of confusion and anger, but most of all desire. There’s never been a doubt he wants me.
I pray something deeper, something more tender lies underneath…
“Violetta…”
The chastisement mixed with resignation in his voice sends alarm streaking through me. I grip his biceps tighter in fear he’ll pull away. Not that I could stop him, but most of my logic has evaporated at the determination in his eyes.
And it’s not in my favor.
“Wait,” I say. After clearing my throat to remove the hint of desperation from it, I continue. “Before you say anything, anything that can’t be taken back or undone, just answer one question for me. Please?”
His expression softens at the pleading in my tone and he gives me a brief nod. Hope surges in my chest and I steel myself for any possible outcome, especially the one that’s sure to happen if I don’t convince him otherwise.
“Would you look at me differently if I were older or if I wasn’t Carina’s sister?”
