A Love Worthy

Chapter Thirty

            Dorian grew apprehensive, a deep gut-wrenching feeling of trepidation settling heavily in his stomach. The hour was late, his room permeating a substantial darkness that corresponded to the lightless soul dwelling within his body.

            He sat before the hearth, his limbs tense and his eyes glazed with the subliminal thoughts engrossing his mind. An empty brandy bottle sat depleted on the table at his side as he stared pensively into the kindled fire.

            They had searched to the perimeter of London without the slightest indication to Ginelle or Pierino’s whereabouts. He was beginning to doubt that Pierino was accountable in Ginelle’s abduction; his mind began to conjure other possibilities.

            Had Ginelle decided to flee because of his treatment towards her? Had Stefan spoke falsely of her affections for him? Had she fled to a nunnery? He remembered the day Lord Edric had attempted to steal her away, had he some involvement in her disappearance?

            All these thoughts and more flowed through his mind and he was jarred suddenly to the present as a gentle rattling sounded at his door. Frowning, he forced himself to his feet and crossed the space to the door and jerked it open.

            Instinctively, he felt a wave of revolt creep up his throat as he jerked around from his unwanted visitor. “I will have to advise my servants that your presence here is no longer welcome.” He sneered, turning his back to the fixed, sapphire gaze eying him creditably.

            “I had hoped you would be pleased to see me, mon amour.” Victoria said, sauntering slowly into the room, her eyes dancing wickedly along the masculine furniture to rest firmly upon the bed.

            “Did I not make it clear the last time, Victoria that you and I are no longer?” Dorian growled, turning to glare at her.

            Victoria tossed her red curls over her shoulder as her red lips peeled away with a grin. “Nonsense.” She said convincingly, “There are no men that cannot resist me, and no woman that can compare.” She crossed the room to the bed and trailed a gloved hand along the blanketed surface. “I have missed you, Dorian.” She turned to peer at him, “And I know you have missed me.”

            He stood before the hearth, his arm resting lightly against the stone above his head as he stared deeply into the crackling flames. “The hour is late, Victoria. I wish for you to leave.”

            Victoria stiffened, having not expected his coldness. She approached him and admired him with a long favorable look. She slipped her arms around his torso, her fingers exploring the rigid lines of muscle beneath his tunic. “Have I disappointed you before, mon amant?” she said silkily, her hands dipping lower over the hard contours of his body to wrap around his manhood.

            Muttering a curse, Dorian seized her hands, his fingers tightening to an almost painful degree as he turn around and glared dangerously down at Victoria. “Enough!” he snarled, “We are done, Victoria. What do you not understand about that?” he shoved her away and she stumbled back, her face turning red with humiliation and anger.