Violetta's smirk widened, a glimmer of amusement and a hint of something more heated flashing in her violet eyes. "I can't blame you for your skepticism, Lucien," she murmured, her voice a low, teasing lilt. "It's not every day a Duchess propositions a fallen noble in the middle of a palace garden." Violetta paused, letting the weight of her words sink in, before leaning in closer, her breath ghosting across Lucien's jaw. "But I assure you, what I am offering is quite...beneficial. For you and your family."
Lucien's eyes flashed with a sudden, intense light. In a swift, sudden motion, he grabbed Violetta by the waist, pulling her flush against his hard, muscular body. Violetta gasped, a thrill of excitement and a touch of fear shooting through her as she found herself pinned by Lucien's strength. His grip was tight, almost bruising in its intensity, a silent testament to the raw, untamed power that lay beneath the surface.
"You speak of benefits and propositions," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "But I must know, do you truly mean what you say, Duchess? Or is this some cruel game to you, a way to amuse yourself at the expense of a man who has lost everything?" Lucien's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist as he demanded an answer, his gaze never leaving hers.
Violetta's heart raced, a heady mix of anticipation and a reckless, giddy excitement coursing through her veins. She tilted her chin up, a defiant, almost challenging glint in her violet eyes as she met Lucien's intense gaze. "Very well," she murmured, her voice a low, sultry purr. "Come with me to Velyssia Castle. There, in the privacy of my chambers, I shall explain everything." Violetta's voice was a low, tempting whisper, a sound that promised secrets shared.
As Violetta awaited Lucien's response, she found her gaze drawn to his handsome, rugged features. The moonlight cast shadows across the hard planes of his face, accentuating the strong line of his jaw and the aquiline bridge of his nose. Violetta's heart fluttered in her chest as she drank in the sight of him, a sudden, fierce longing to feel those lips against her own, to taste the whiskey and sin that she could see lurking in those stormy eyes.
Unable to resist the urge, Violetta reached up, her slender fingers cupping Lucien's chiseled jaw. She traced the line of his cheekbone with her thumb, marveling at the rough, unshaven texture of his skin. "Will you come with me, Lucien?" Violetta asked, her voice a low, breathless murmur. "Or will you deny me the pleasure of your company and the promise of the proposition I offer?" Her violet eyes searched his, a look of eager anticipation and a hint of something darker, more primal, gleaming in their depths.
Lucien was silent for a long moment, his stormy eyes searching Violetta's face, as if trying to discern the hidden motives behind her words. Then, with a low, almost reluctant sigh, he spoke. "Very well, Duchess," he murmured, his voice a low, gruff rasp. "I will come with you to Velyssia Castle. I trust that whatever proposition you have in mind will be worth the journey." Lucien's voice was a low, guarded murmur, a sound that spoke of a cautious optimism and a growing sense of anticipation.
At the sound of his agreement, Violetta's smirk widened into a triumphant, almost wicked grin. She let her fingers linger on his jaw for a moment longer before slowly, reluctantly, she withdrew her touch. "Excellent," she purred, a note of satisfaction and a hint of something more heated in her tone. "I am pleased you have accepted my invitation." Violetta stepped back, putting a few inches of much-needed space between their bodies. "Now, if you wouldn't mind letting me go, I would be most grateful. I do prefer to walk under my own power, rather than being...being manhandled by a rogue, no matter how delightfully handsome or rugged he may be." Violetta's voice was a low, breathless murmur, a sound that spoke of a playful, flirtatious edge even as she made her request.
Lucien hesitated for a moment, a flicker of hesitation in his stormy eyes. Then, with a low, almost reluctant sigh, he released Violetta from his bruising grip. Violetta stumbled slightly as she regained her balance, her gown swirling around her ankles as she steadied herself. She looked up at Lucien, a playful, almost teasing smile curving her lips as she spoke.
"If you would be so kind as to follow me to my carriage, I would be most grateful," Violetta murmured, her voice a low, melodic lilt. She turned, the skirts of her gown whispering softly as she began to walk towards the palace entrance, her head held high and her back straight.
As they reached the waiting carriage, Lucien paused, his gaze flicking to the open door and the plush, velvet interior. Violetta had already placed one delicate hand on the carriage door, ready to ascend inside, when Lucien stepped forward, offering his hand to assist her.
Violetta paused, a look of surprise and a hint of amused delight flashing across her face. She glanced up at Lucien, a mischievous glimmer in her violet eyes as she spoke. "My, my, I never expected you to be such a gentleman," she teased, a note of playful skepticism in her tone. "Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye, Lucien D'Artois." Violetta's voice was a low, breathless murmur, a sound that spoke of a growing fascination and a deep, abiding curiosity. She placed her slender fingers in Lucien's much larger, rougher hand, a thrill of excitement shooting through her at the contact.
As Violetta settled into the plush velvet seat of the carriage, the soft fabric molding to the curves of her body, she watched as Lucien joined her inside. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the suddenly intimate confines of the carriage. Lucien sat down across from her, the leather of the seat creaking softly beneath his weight. Violetta couldn't help but notice how his broad shoulders seemed to fill the space, making the once spacious carriage feel suddenly, deliciously cramped.
Violetta crossed her legs, the silk of her gown whispering softly as she moved. She leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees as she fixed Lucien with a curious, almost appraising gaze. "Tell me, Lucien," she murmured, her voice a low, inquisitive purr. "How old are you?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise and a hint of wariness in their stormy depths. "Pardon? Why would you ask that?" he countered, a note of guarded suspicion in his tone. He studied Violetta's face for a long moment, as if trying to discern the motive behind her question.
Violetta's lips curved into a playful, almost challenging smile. "Oh, come now," she teased, a note of amused exasperation in her voice. "You need not be so coy. I am merely curious about the man who has so boldly captured my interest." She paused, a mischievous glimmer in her violet eyes as she waited for his response.
Lucien was silent for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice a low, gruff murmur. "I am twenty-seven years old," he said at last, a note of reluctant honesty in his tone. He watched Violetta closely, a look of cautious curiosity on his rugged features as he awaited her reaction.
Violetta repeated Lucien's age softly, a thoughtful murmur falling from her lips. "Twenty-seven," she echoed, a hint of approval in her tone. "A fine age for a man, I daresay." She paused, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth before she leaned back against the plush velvet seat, her gown rustling softly.
"And what of you, Duchess?" Lucien asked, a note of casual curiosity in his voice. "How old are you, if I may be so bold as to inquire?" His stormy eyes searched Violetta's face, a look of guarded interest in their depths.
Violetta let out a soft, melodic laugh, a sound that held a touch of amused disbelief. "My, my, how rude," she chided playfully, a note of mock scolding in her voice. "Asking a lady her age is the height of impoliteness, or so I've been told." She paused, a mischievous glint in her violet eyes as she studied Lucien's face for his reaction.
When Lucien remained silent, his expression unchanging, Violetta felt a flicker of frustration. She had expected at least a hint of surprise, a glimmer of admiration, perhaps even a note of awe at the realization that he was in the presence of a woman as powerful as her. Instead, he sat across from her, his rugged features an impassive mask, giving nothing away.
Violetta's fingers tightened slightly on the hem of her gown, a sudden, inexplicable urge to reach out and trace the hard line of Lucien's jaw, to feel the texture of his skin beneath her fingertips, shooting through her. She resisted the temptation, however, and instead settled for fixing Lucien with a thoughtful, almost assessing gaze.
"I am a year older than you, if you must know," Violetta said at last, her voice a low, almost casual murmur. She waited for his reaction, a hint of anticipation and a touch of trepidation coiled in the pit of her stomach. Would he be impressed by her maturity and experience? Or would he simply dismiss her as a woman past her prime and desperate for the attentions of a younger man?
Violetta waited for Lucien's reaction, her heart pounding in the anticipatory silence. However, as the seconds ticked by, his expression remained stoically impassive. Not even a flicker of surprise or admiration crossed his rugged features at the revelation of her age. Violetta felt a flicker of frustration, a sudden, inexplicable urge to do something, anything, to provoke a response from the maddeningly unreadable man across from her.
But she held her tongue, not wanting to reveal the depth of her curiosity or the growing fascination she felt. Instead, she leaned back against the plush velvet seat, the carriage rocking gently as it carried them towards Velyssia Castle. The clip-clop of hooves against the cobblestones and the creaking of the carriage wheels filled the silence between them, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic sound that seemed to stretch on for an eternity.
As they drew closer to the castle, Violetta couldn't help but steal glances at Lucien from beneath her lashes. She resisted the temptation of touching him, knowing that to do so would be to reveal the depth of her desire. And so, she sat in silence, her heart racing and her body thrumming with a restless, almost feverish energy as she waited for the carriage to deliver them to the castle. She could only hope that once they arrived, she might find a way to crack the impenetrable facade of the maddeningly enigmatic man across from her.