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   Chapter 44 43.

On Her Knees By Chyna McCartney Characters: 18958

Updated: 2020-05-08 21:08


"You have dinner plans?" I asked with Giovanni's hand wrapped around mine.

I noted the irony of the fact that the vampire's silence was the loudest beckoning call. Kira's long sword swayed gently from left to right in his holster on his back. The metal whispered adoringly as it kissed the soft leather with each pass. For a moment, I was mesmerized by the way the weapon moved with its caretaker; not as if it were something that was being dragged behind but hand in hand or side by side.

The master swordsman adored his blade, as it did him and the connection between them fascinated me, especially given that I knew nothing else about Kira. I wanted to know what the two--weapon and man--had done together, where they had been and what marks they had left on the world. Somehow, I just knew that I could not know the story of one without also, knowing the story of the other and it was a story that I was extremely desirous of knowing.

"No, my love. We have dinner plans. I imagine that conversations over a meal are as good as any for truly getting to know a person. Maribelle was informed prior and she tells me that she has just the gown for the occasion. My attire is meant to match with yours of course. The only thing we need for you to do is to get cleaned up and the rest will be taken cared of."

I was thoroughly confused by this--mostly confused by the idea that a vampire wanted to go to dinner, where food is served, with a human. I wondered how awkward that exchange might be when human food was not a vampire's primary source of sustenance. Where would we have this dinner? I had seen the large dining hall in his mansion and the grandeur and elegance of such a venue would certainly facilitate the goal of creating a very intimate atmosphere. However, if he didn't intend to have dinner in his home, I couldn't imagine that there would be restaurants serving human food in In Umbrā.

I couldn't recall seeing any restaurants during my brief passage through Rudalia. Yet, in all fairness, there were still two territories in the realm that I had never visited. More than anything, I just felt that I was altogether nervous about the idea in general. Nervous about the extravagant monstrosity Maribelle had most likely handpicked for me. Anxious about what Giovanni would think of me in an evening gown. Nervous because this felt a lot like a date and I had never been on one.

Standing now at the door to our shared room, he seemed to be able to sense that anxiety rolling off of me in waves. Then it occurred to me that he probably could do just that. Reading or "scenting" as he called it, another person's emotional signature was one of his many supernatural gifts.

"You have nothing to fear, " he reassured me. "It will only be you and I in the most private of venues. This will be good for us."

I relaxed once my brain was able to digest those last few words. He was right. It would be good for us. It would be good for the connection we were trying to nurture. It would be foolish of me to pass up an opportunity to do just that.

I nodded and he rewarded me with a gentle kiss on me cheek.

"Maribelle promised me that she would visit you at 6 o'clock to help you with accessorizing and makeup, although I doubt that is something you are interested in."

He was right. "No, I have never worn any makeup before."

"Well according to my watch you have a little more than an hour to enjoy a bath before she arrives to torment you and then another hour following thatafter which time, I will meet you in the downstairs foyer to escort you to the venue. "

"Okay, " I replied, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I will see you at 7, my love." Giovanni whispered before he turned to descend the staircase, with Kira following close on his heels.

I turned and entered the bedroom only to find that my outfit for the evening had already been thought out for me completely, even down to the underwear.

On the bed, a lacy crimson colored strapless bra and matching panties were draped across the brown sheets. Something was concealed in a dress bag, but I did my best to steer clear of the bag, not daring to even open it. Only to nearly trip over a pair of nude heels in the process.

"Great, " I murmured to myself. "As if this whole ordeal could be even more anxiety-inducing."

I practically ran for the bathroom to fill the tub with warm water. Giovanni was sweet enough to leave a basket of scented bath salts and other products arranged in sets by fragrance. The handwritten card to the basket read: "For my love for scents and my love for you."

By some miracle, I didn't melt into a puddle on the bathroom tiles after reading that and remembering how he had agreed with my choice before, I once again grabbed the bundle of products that were meant to be infused with lavender and rosewater. This time, lemongrass oil and orange essence was included in the bundle and the bath water was delightfully fragrant and foamy by the time I had turned the faucet off.

Disrobing quickly, I settled into the warm embrace of the scented liquid, feeling it envelope every divet and curve of my body. Thanks to Raphael's salve, the healing wounds on my back no longer brought me any pain. In fact, I was only ever reminded of their existence when I thought about them or felt anything pressed against my back, which in this instance was the cold porcelain.

I sat there in the bath water for a moment that seemed infinitely long, thinking about several different things all at once and at a pace that somehow made it extremely difficult to process anything at all. The thoughts and scenarios just all seemed to blur through my

At this point, I was sure that my face was now the same deep crimson shade as the gown. I blushed because I was embarrassed that so much attention was directed toward me--that so much time and effort on both Maribelle's and Giovanni's part had been concentrated into making me look so stunning. I was embarrassed because I felt so undeserving. Yet, I was most embarrassed that despite my best efforts to deny it--in spite of all the insecurities about my body that I had collected over the years, it was impossible to ignore the attractiveness of the woman in the mirror.

No. Finally, my mind was able to connect the image of the vixen with my own person. I could now convince myself of the truth: that the woman in the mirror was me and that I was, while wearing next to no make up at all, undeniably gorgeous.

"Fine, you've convinced me, " I acquiesced, pretending to be disgruntled, when in truth it was possibly the best gift that I had ever been given. I don't think anything could compare to the gift of confidence in one's own skin.

Giovanni's answering smile made him look like a golden cherub. "If that is the only good that I ever manage to do, then I will be glad. Now come, we would not want to be late for our reservation. After all, the restaurant is quite a distance away from here, tesorina."

Maribelle blew a kiss in our direction as she retreated back from whence she came with the gigantic mirror in tow and the blonde vampire led me out beyond the Venetian doors to the waiting black SUV that was parked in the gravel under the light of lit kerosene lanterns. The moon was full--a bright silver orb hanging in the folds of a curtain speckled with stars.

The crisp night air tickled the nearly exposed skin of my arms and it made me grateful for the lacy sleeves. Giovanni led me to the front passenger door before opening it for me.

"No driver?" I asked, as I peered into the vehicle with its empty brown leather seats.

"Not tonight, tesorina. Berthold has been given the night off. He had some outing planned with Melanie. Since he is the only driver that I have ever had--the only one I have ever trusted, I will be the one behind the wheel this evening."

He helped me into the seat and in the same moment that he shut the passenger door, he also seemed to materialize at the other side of the vehicle, opening the driver's side door. It was an obvious display of his inhuman speed--one that didn't startle me in the slightest.

"What does that mean?" I asked as the engine purred to life. "What's that word mean that you seem to enjoy calling me of late? Tesorina?" It was a question that had occurred to me before but I had only now been able to dwell on long enough to verbalize it.

"Its an Italian word, " he stammered as he changed gears and backed out of the driveway seemingly without needing to glance behind him. I couldn't imagine why he would be embarrassed by that.

"Its a term of endearment, " he continued. "Its used to refer to someone who is of immense importance to you; someone you value above all others. It means 'my treasure.' You are my treasure, Teryn."

"You mean a lot to me too, Giovanni, " I replied, overcame again with the familiar feeling of some intense emotion that I always experienced when caught in intimate moments like this with him.

I couldn't find the words to describe the feeling accurately. I couldn't describe how intensely I desired him in these moments; how much I longed to be everything for him--to fulfill his every physical, emotional, mental and sexual desire.

I just knew that when I was with him, I was allowed to feel more than I had felt at at single moment in my life or with anyone.

Giovanni's only response was to reach across the center console for my hand.

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