He sneered. “Again, playing a part.”
“Bullshit, Vade.”
He chuckled. “Believe what you want. I don’t care either way. All I know is I’m going into the first brothel I find and fucking a pleasure girl into oblivion.”
Orelia planted her hands on her hips. “Why is it so hard to admit you might actually be attracted to me?”
He looked her up and down. “I’ll admit, you are nice to look at in that dress, but I don’t mix my business with pleasure. You are business, Orelia. Nothing more.”
“So, you truly feel nothing for me then? Nothing but the heavy weight of responsibility, is that right?”
“Now you’re getting it.”
Angry tears started burning her eyes. “Why not me? What’s wrong with who I am?”
Vade shook his head and walked away. “I’m not having this conversation.”
She jumped in front of him. “Tell me why. I’m a good person. I’m kind, I try to be helpful, and I’m attractive. You treat me like I’m some hideous monster you can’t bear to look at. Why, Vade?” Her voice broke on his name, and she didn’t care how weak it made her sound. She may be naive to the ways of the world, but she knew desire when she saw it. The way he’d held her on his lap, how he watched her as they breathed the same air, how he’d shielded her from Fargus. He cared about her. She knew he did. “Do youtruly find me so repulsive you couldn’t fathom actually enjoying my company? Do you really hate me that much?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t hate you.”
She put her hands on his chest. “Then why?”
Vade looked at her hands and swallowed. He gently grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from him. He fished out the money he’d won and handed her half. “You earned your share tonight. Go enjoy yourself.”
Orelia wasn’t interested in the coins, but she took them anyway. “But I want to enjoy myself with you.”
Vade put his purse back in his pocket. “No.”
She let out a defeated breath, forcing herself not to cry. “Fine.” Orelia spun on her heel and stormed off.
“At least tell me where you’re going!” he called out.
She picked up her pace and threw a, “None of your damn business,” over her shoulder.
twenty-nine
Orelia was drunk.
She almost missed her mouth when she went to take another sip of ale.
“Careful now,” the man whose lap she was sitting on said. Ivan? Igor? She didn’t know. She could barely hear him in the busy tavern.
He pulled the mug from her lips and set it on the table. His blonde hair, hazel eyes, kind smile, and sweet words were just what she’d needed. The exact opposite of the jerk she’d left standing in the alley.
Orelia smashed her lips onto Ivan-Igor’s mouth. She ran her fingers through his short hair the best she could, intertwining her tongue with his. He tasted of peppermint, even after finishing three ales with her over the last mark. His hands roamed her body, sliding over the satin of her dress, making the space between her legs ache.
She debated taking him into the alley and asking him to fuck her against the wall. Out of spite. Out of need. Out of frustration. Out of all of it.
The gorgeous human pulled her face from his and grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go dance.”
“Give the rest of us a chance with her, Ivan!” One of his drunken friends called out.
“Not a chance!” he shouted back, wearing a boyish smile.
Orelia enjoyed being sought-after, and at least she knew his name now. She swayed as they moved through the crowd, her sweaty palm clasped with his. He spun her in a circle, then wrapped an arm around her waist. The people laughed and cheered as the fiddles picked up their pace. Boots stomped on the ground in unison, ales lifted high in jubilee. Orelia twirled around the room, seeing flashes of blonde hair and pale skin as they made their way around the dance floor.
They danced for two songs before he kissed her hard, the crowd fading into the background. His lips were warm, and soft, his caring arms holding her close. Orelia hadn’t felt this light in weeks.
