“I’ve never had coffee before,” I said as a waiter refreshed my cup. “It’s delicious.”
“Are you serious?” Azriel asked. A smile spread across his mouth that made my skin tingle and my bones turn soft. “This is the first time you’ve ever had it?”
“Proper ladies drink tea,” I laughed. “Henry insisted that I be the epitome of a proper lady.”
“I take great satisfaction in knowing that I’ve introduced you to something that pleases you,” Azriel said. He leaned in conspiratorially and I mirrored his actions. “I hope to introduce you to many new pleasures, my darling.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks at the innuendo. I dropped my gaze and nibbled at my bottom lip.
“Extraordinary,” Azriel murmured. He took my hand in his and bestowed a kiss to each of my knuckles. “Come. Let us see what Seattle has to offer.”
Azriel came around the table and pulled out my chair. As I stood, he planted an innocent kiss on my cheek. I couldn’t help but brush my fingertips across my lips as I wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him in a not-so-innocent manner. He brought my hand around his elbow and led me out of the restaurant back toward the lobby.
I studied him from the corner of my eye, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. Walking next to me was a man without comparison. Dangerous. Handsome. Daring. Deadly.
Mine.
Chapter 5
Seattle was not unlike San Francisco––a port city with a booming population and fueled by industry. Automobiles and trolleys traveled along the cobbled streets once crowded with horse-drawn carriages, and modern conveniences were advertised on large billboards, which hung high above the tall buildings that made up the city proper. The air smelled of the sea, and steam billowed up from the stacks of ships that floated in and out of the harbor.
Even in San Francisco I’d never had the pleasure of simply walking the streets without a care. A shadow had always cast itself on my life, reminding me of what I had to look forward to when I returned home.
You have always belonged to the shadows. . . .
Azriel’s words echoed in my mind as we walked in silence. After Henry’s abuse became a regular occurrence, I’d left my house less often. I didn’t want to have to lie to curious folks as I tried to explain away my many bruises. At first, he had kept to bruising my arms and laying his fist to the areas of my body concealed by clothing. But as Henry’s drinking became more steady, and his resentment of me more intense, he did not care where his fist landed. I had no desire to parade around town with a black eye or a bloodied and swollen lip. And so I contented myself with reading or embroidery and I kept to the house. In the end it had saved us both a lot of trouble.
“What say you, darling?” Azriel asked, breaking me from my reverie. “Shall we call Seattle home?”
I broke from his gaze and looked up to find a large sign. Public Market, it declared in bold, black letters. My breath caught in my chest as I watched the hustle and bustle of people at various vendor carts. Fresh fish, cut flowers, and myriad other goods sat ready for purchase. Women chatted with the vendors, bartering for the best deal. Men toiled at the fish carts, hauling up the morning catch as they gutted and wrapped the fish in brown paper and tied the packages up with string. And the sound of laughter mingled with conversation and heated debates.
“Pike Place Market,” Azriel whispered in my ear.
The entire market teemed with life. A synchronicity existed amongst the chaos as people interacted with one another in a strangely detached way. No one seemed to care a whit about the person standing next to them. I’d lived in a tight-knit community of affluent socialites. Doctors’ wives, bankers’ wives, and the like. Everyone cared. No one’s actions went unnoticed. Doctor Hale’s wife made sure to find out what Mrs. Baxter’s household staff was preparing for dinner. And likewise, Mrs. Baxter knew when Mrs. Brighton ordered a new dress from an elegant shop in New York City. For San Francisco’s elite, someone was always watching.
But not here, not now. “I love it,” I whispered back. “Azriel, I love it here.”
He brought my hand to his lips and bestowed a kiss upon it. “Is it Seattle you love so much, or something else?”
In truth, I did love the city. We’d taken the trolley from one end of the city to the other. Just like the market, the city pulsed with life and possibility. But Azriel seemed to see through my pretense. Somehow, he knew the secret things that I dare not speak out loud. “I love the freedom,” I said, averting my gaze.
“Freedom from him?”
Yes.
I hated to admit it, even to myself. Since waking to this new existence, I had been happy—even thankful—to be free from my husband. I’d been so miserable for so long. I’d resorted to acts of suicide, thinking it was the only way to be truly free. I wasn’t just free of an abusive husband, though. I was free of pious old biddies with nothing better to do than gossip. I was free from convention and propriety. Azriel had taken me away from a world where the societal standard dictated my every move. “It is so much more than that,” I said, just above a whisper.
Azriel placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. His gaze burned with an intensity I didn’t understand. He didn’t say a word to me, nor did he ask my permission. No, Azriel took what he wanted without consent or apologies. Right there, standing beneath the Public Market sign, in front of anyone who cared to watch. And when he kissed me, it wasn’t a simple meeting of lips. His mouth claimed mine with a ferocity and passion that left me breathless.
I melted against him. In fact, I couldn’t get close enough. I’d never been kissed like this, and I reveled in the excitement of the moment, the taste of his mouth, the firm press of his lips that were still so soft. His tongue traced my lips before darting in my mouth and I gasped at his boldness, but my surprise only prompted him to hold me tighter. My body ached with a need I was desperate to satiate, an emptiness that begged to be filled. I wanted more. Craved it. Azriel wound his fist into my hair and gently pulled my head back. A moan worked its way up my throat as he left a trail of kisses down my throat.
“I want . . .” I started to whisper before I stopped myself.
“What?” Azriel asked as he worked his way back up toward my ear. “Tell me, Darian. What is it that you want?”
“I don’t know.” I gave a nervous laugh. Honestly, I had no idea what I wanted. I didn’t know the first thing about making love aside from the basic mechanics. I wanted to answer my body’s urgings, but how could I tell Azriel that I’d never been with a man before?
Azriel laughed against my throat and the seductive sound caused my stomach to clench. He pulled away from me and took my hand in his, leading me down the boardwalk as if we hadn’t just engaged in indecent behavior on a public street. “You are without shame,” I teased. I couldn’t help but look around me as I wondered who had stopped to witness our impassioned moment.
“True,” Azriel laughed. “Would you rather I respected decorum and social graces?”
“No,” I answered immediately. “I envy your unabashed nature.”
“Give me time,” Azriel said in a conspiratorial tone, “and I will make a sinful woman out of you.”
Delicious chills raced up my arms and over my scalp. If this is what sin felt like, then I couldn’t wait to fling myself headlong into the fires of hell.