Free A Vampire's Rise by Vanessa Fewings Page A

gave it to me.
    “How long have you been a dancer?” I tried to work out her age.
    She lifted the net out of her way and sat beside me. “My father sold me to the Romany. I’ve danced for them ever since.”
    I was about to ask her to dance for me again, but couldn’t now, not after hearing that.
    She gazed about, as if taking in the room.
    “It wasn’t always this way for me.” I caught myself staring at her.
    “This wasn’t your family’s home?”
    “No.”
    “Then how did you end up as master?”
    I raised myself up onto my elbows. “A mixture of luck and,” I scratched my head, “hard work.”
    “Miguel told me it’s because you work alongside the ranch hands that the staff admire you.”
    I drank the rest of the water.
    “How long can I stay here?” she asked.
    She bestowed the very image of innocence. Having stolen her away, I was no different than her father who’d betrayed her trust, or the men he’d sold her to. No different than Felipe who’d laid a claim to her.
    I reached for her but quickly withdrew my hand.
    I’d closed my heart before. This time would be no exception. I had to let Annabelle go.

Chapter 14
    THE LAST TIME I’D seen Salvador, it had been sans clothes.
    I now sat next to him at the Moran’s dinner table, both of us acting as though nothing had passed between us.
    The other guests, three in number, were all nobility. I perused them one by one and gauged their characters from the little they revealed of themselves.
    General Hernandez, the stocky gentleman who sat beside me, was Salvador’s commanding officer. Hernandez’s rugged features indicated a man who’d seen many a battle and wasn’t shy of getting down and dirty with the troops, thus earning their respect. Yet Hernandez’s unsteady eye indicated his need for approval. Perhaps such insecurity had been a catalyst for his desire for promotion into the highest ranks.
    Countess Miranda Ebro, with her painted face and tight bodice, her attractiveness enhanced by her confidence, was a lady in her thirties. A widow no doubt, revealed by the sadness in her eyes and the way she sighed deep in thought throughout the evening.
    Lady Rosalie Ambrith, with her hooked nose and small mouth, had a fixed expression of disapproval. A lady eager to offer criticism, her way of making the world a better place, ensured her strict, moral legacy continued unabated. Even I couldn’t win her over.
    All the guests warranted a good stare.
    And Salvador, with his dashing good looks and captivating smile, his bravery warranted the title I held—a fine officer who showed a deep respect for his men, and a willingness to hear both sides of a story before sharing his opinion. When he focused on me, arousal soon followed.
    Señor Moran proposed a toast to Spain’s new knight of the realm. I accepted the honor, hoping to convince them I’d earned it. As the alcohol flowed, so did the camaraderie.
    Salvador enthralled me. I found it difficult to define the cause of the numerous fissions, the fine wine or Salvador’s firm hand brushing my thigh.
    He leaned in close and whispered, “Rumor has it that the flamenco dancer is a guest at your estate.”
    “And what else do the rumors say?” I asked.
    “That you’ve found favor with the king with your Andalusians.”
    “His highness has acquired several of our horses.”
    “Pleased to hear it.”
    “I’ve selected yours from my finest stock.”
    Salvador beamed.
    I sipped my wine, forcing my confidence. “Tell me what you know of Senator Grenaldi.”
    “He’s ambitious.” Salvador’s gaze held mine as if to exaggerate his point. “A man not to be crossed.”
    “In what way?”
    “He uses questionable tactics.”
    “He likes to win?”
    Salvador raised his eyebrows. “He does.”
    “And you want to work for him?”
    “He gets things done.”
    “What about his wife?” I looked away briefly.
    “The king’s cousin. That’s a marriage of alliances.”
    “To further his political