She shifted, her eyes connecting with a pair of dark green eyes from across the room. They flared at the full sight of her, the exact color of the dress she wore. The fabric stopped at the curve of her shoulders, leaving a smooth expanse of skin bare. The rest of her gown slipped down her body in a soft whisper; it was a dress meant to draw men to their knees.
Ravenna returned Saturnino’s gaze.
He was a man who would never bend his knee for anyone.
Saturnino wore deep red, from head to toe, and the color suited him. It made his more ruthless nature rise to the surface, giving his smile an edge, his arms a bruising strength. His hair was damp, as if he’d just come from a bath.
He looked inhumanly beautiful.
And he was surrounded by several young women, each dressed in shimmering jewel tones. Peridot, ruby, sapphire, emerald. Herattention flickered to each one before landing back onto Saturnino. He lifted his chin in a challenge, as if to say:I’m not yours, and never will be.
Ravenna knew it to be true.
She raised an eyebrow and said back:I never asked you to be.
He blinked in surprise, then smiled, slow and tender. A fissure split down her middle, as if she existed in two realities: the time before she knew Saturnino, and the time after, when he shared glimpses of the cold heart that still beat a steady rhythm.
Signor Luni and his lady approached Ravenna, blocking all view of their son. She forced a greeting in welcome, pushing Saturnino out of her mind. It was a shame she couldn’t do the same thing with her heart. But he’d snuck inside, and now there was no removing him.
Unless he tried to kill her.
I’d endeavor to rid myself of my doomed attraction then, she thought wryly.
“Signorina Ravenna,” Signor Luni exclaimed. “What a lovely creature you are.”
“That color is very becoming on you,” Signora Luni agreed.
Fortuna joined their group. “Astonishing how it pairs well with that unusual hair color.”
Signor Luni held out his arm, and Ravenna accepted, her smile locked in place. “Lorenzo wants to present you to his wife.”
Ravenna looked past him, to where a group of three people waited. Two gentlemen, middle-aged, and a lady nearly so. Ravenna locked eyes with Lorenzo de’ Medici, and she felt the familiar anger curdling deep in her belly as she cataloged his features. The Roman nose, dark eyes and hair, thin mouth. He was not a handsome man, but he had an arresting quality that commanded notice. An innate confidence, an air of curiosity, clothed in sumptuous fabric, and pretty manners. He looked the same as he had on the day she’d first met him and made her demands.
He was still her enemy, even if she was beginning to understand why he loathed the pope.
His lady wife stood close to his side, a light hand on his elbow.She matched his elegance, a beautiful companion to the portrait he presented, a man in his prime with the city of Florence under his expensive heel. She dipped her chin a fraction, wide eyes curiously lit onto Ravenna, the newcomer to her proverbial kingdom.
Saturnino appeared next to her, a thorn in her side. She felt his cool presence as if she’d opened a window during a winter night: cold air howling around her and the kiss of snow on her skin. But then he drew one step closer to her, until his arm brushed against the sleeve of her gown, and for a moment, it felt as if he had come to stand with her so she wouldn’t face her enemies alone.
But that was ridiculous, surely.
Greetings were exchanged, and when that was finally over, Signor Luni gestured toward Ravenna and said to Signora Medici, “This is Signorina Ravenna’s first visit to the city, not that she’s been able to see any of it. She has been dedicated to her work.”
“Well, I hope she’ll have time to see the best of what Florence has to offer,” Signora Medici said, her manner polite.
“Don’t worry, signora, we brought most of it to her,” Saturnino said wryly, splaying his hand, gesturing to the center of the banquet hall where several troubadours were performing acrobatics midair, flipping and twisting through glittering rings and fiery hoops. Their gowns were bright, etched in embroidery depicting blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies, fat bumblebees, and lush trees.
“I’ve been unspeakably rude in not presenting my friend, Signorina Ravenna,” Lorenzo de’ Medici announced. “Allow me to introduce Galeazzo Sforza, Duca of Milan.”
Ravenna slowly turned to face the man she was meant to lure out to the bridge.
He was a man of refined taste and elegance, wearing a blue brocade stitched with metallic lilies, but no amount of tailoring could soften his harsh features and intense eyes. He dipped his chin, a respectful gesture, but the curl of his lip hinted at a sinister edge. His gaze lingered on her bare shoulders, traveling lower to her collarbones before settling on the swell of her breasts.
He lifted his eyes, peeking coyly at her through thick lashes. “Signorina Ravenna, I’m enchanted.”
He drew out the last word into an unsettling caress.
She gritted her teeth and thought of her family. Hersoul.She flashed Signor Sforza a shy smile and then quickly glanced down in a manner that her own mother would approve of: shy, unassuming, demure.
