"A bailar duello, with the winner to receive the kiss I interrupted."
Carmelita issued her challenge without taking her eyes off Nottingham. Her
stare was predatory, as if she were wondering how he'd taste.
"Not good enough. I'll get that kiss tonight anyway at some point, even if I have to wait until he sees me to my door." Sara shrugged nonchalantly, although she was seething internally. That hussy wasn't getting her lips anywhere near Ian.
"Conceited much?"
"I prefer the term confident."
"I just bet you do. That, of course, is why you are trying to weasel out of taking the bet. You're just so confident."
"Actually, I am. It really boils down to the question, why should I waste our time on your attempts to horn in?" Sara started to cross her arms, but Ian still had hold of her fist, so he ended up being drawn up against her back.
The look wasn't as threatening as Sara had intended it to be. However, his arm wrapped around her chest did create a certain solidarity, and she was content with the trade off.
"What's the matter, afraid you'll lose, compadrito?" Carmelita taunted. She didn't care for the way the other woman seemed to fit in the dark-haired man's arms.
"To you? That'll be the day." Sara snorted contemptuously.
"Then where's the problem?"
"There's no problem, I just want to know what I get when you lose."
"Not that I believe that will happen, but what do you want?"
"I want you to leave us alone. No more comments, no cutting in, no ruining any more moments. Deal?" Sara held out her free hand to shake on the bet.
"Deal." Carmelita took the hand, vaguely surprised by the feel of calluses. They did not match up to the rest of the packaging.
"Don't I have any say in this?" Nottingham looked at the two women who were preparing to divide him like the spoils of war.
"No," both women said together.
Ian let go of Sara's fist before he gave in to the temptation to squeeze and stepped back. The pleasure of being so close to his lady had faded to ashes in his mouth. He was not an object to be fought over and parceled out to the victor. He was a person with thoughts and feelings, both of which they were disregarding.
He had thought that Sara, of all people, would understand how it felt to be given no say. She had railed against both Kenneth and the Witchblade's interference in her life often enough. Yet here she was, agreeing to give him to another woman if her dancing skills proved superior.
Sara and Carmelita backed away from Ian, one on either side, neither turning their back on the other. Both swayed slightly as they walked, bodies already answering the rhythm of the song that had been playing during their discussion and subsequent challenge. They kept moving until he was equidistant from both women, forming the final point on their triangle.
Nottingham was still as a statue, a brooding, angry statue perhaps, but he waited where he stood. This was a duello, and it had strict forms to be followed. He wondered how much Sara knew about them. He did not know much about this version, aside from the history.
Every time he had seen this challenge, it had been two men competing for the favor of one woman. Ian would just follow what he had seen from those other duels and hope that would be enough. At least this way, he did none of the pursuing, which would be up to the women. He was not pleased with either of them; they would both have their work cut out for them in trying to win his approval.
Carmelita locked eyes with her opponent, realizing that she did not know her name, or the identity of the delicious man she wanted to steal away from her. Not that his name mattered so much, she could get that out of him later, but with any luck she wouldn't be seeing her opponent again after tonight, so she should find out that out now. "What is your name?"
"Sara Pezzini."
"Carmelita Boucher."
"Any relation to Dominique Boucher?" Sara raised a brow. The coincidence was too much to be believed.
"She was my mother, not that the Gorgon would have wanted me to admit it. It made her feel old. Why?"
"I just don't hear the name often, I was curious." The bitterness and malice in Carmelita's voice reminded Sara of her last conversation with Dominique. Apparently, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
At the other end of the triangle, Nottingham closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't feel that he could lay all the blame for this situation with Sara anymore. The Witchblade had clearly influenced the entire evening. She was right; it was a pushy piece of jewelry.
Hell, it had even gotten to him, because he had not done a check into the background of the club. Nottingham had never failed to investigate a situation thoroughly before entering, but he had done nothing in preparation for tonight besides getting the address.
It was unforgivably sloppy of him. Ian knew that Dominique had a daughter; it was all in the files. He had even known her name. Shortly after Kenneth had dumped Dominique for her inability to truly wield the Gauntlet, she had married. Her husband, Armand Boucher, was a business rival of Irons. He owned several diamond fields in the Sierra Leone, as well as a few emerald mines in Columbia.
The marriage hadn't lasted, of course. Dominique had only accepted Armand's proposal in an attempt to get even with Irons. If she hadn't gotten pregnant, they would have parted ways inside of a year. He also knew that after the divorce Dominique had left her daughter in her ex-husband's custody, making a name for herself in the world of fashion.
The divorce settlement had gone a long way toward setting up her business. The daughter that she largely ignored had joined the competition dance circuit in her early teens, as hungry for recognition and fame as her mother. What he hadn't known was what Carmelita was doing now; the information packet on her had not been updated in two years.
When it came up during his check, and it would have, he would have talked Sara into going somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because Dominique had gotten pregnant after wearing the Witchblade, Carmelita would inherit certain genetic changes from her mother. Those changes might make her a true bearer for the Witchblade, unlike Dominique.
Three years ago Irons had arranged to meet Carmelita while on business in South America. Their encounter left him convinced that she had also received the same weaknesses as her mother, so he rejected Carmelita as a potential future Wielder. He had written her off without a second thought.
It would appear that the Gauntlet did not share Kenneth's opinion. The Witchblade had orchestrated this entire event to bring Sara into conflict with the blood of a Pretender. Ian wasn't sure why. Was it testing Sara, or did it want something from Carmelita?
Did this mean that Sara's feelings for him would evaporate after tonight? If the Witchblade had been responsible for her sudden change of heart, would she ever willingly have anything to do with him again? Would she go back to treating him with cruelty and disdain?
"Not good enough. I'll get that kiss tonight anyway at some point, even if I have to wait until he sees me to my door." Sara shrugged nonchalantly, although she was seething internally. That hussy wasn't getting her lips anywhere near Ian.
"Conceited much?"
"I prefer the term confident."
"I just bet you do. That, of course, is why you are trying to weasel out of taking the bet. You're just so confident."
"Actually, I am. It really boils down to the question, why should I waste our time on your attempts to horn in?" Sara started to cross her arms, but Ian still had hold of her fist, so he ended up being drawn up against her back.
The look wasn't as threatening as Sara had intended it to be. However, his arm wrapped around her chest did create a certain solidarity, and she was content with the trade off.
"What's the matter, afraid you'll lose, compadrito?" Carmelita taunted. She didn't care for the way the other woman seemed to fit in the dark-haired man's arms.
"To you? That'll be the day." Sara snorted contemptuously.
"Then where's the problem?"
"There's no problem, I just want to know what I get when you lose."
"Not that I believe that will happen, but what do you want?"
"I want you to leave us alone. No more comments, no cutting in, no ruining any more moments. Deal?" Sara held out her free hand to shake on the bet.
"Deal." Carmelita took the hand, vaguely surprised by the feel of calluses. They did not match up to the rest of the packaging.
"Don't I have any say in this?" Nottingham looked at the two women who were preparing to divide him like the spoils of war.
"No," both women said together.
Ian let go of Sara's fist before he gave in to the temptation to squeeze and stepped back. The pleasure of being so close to his lady had faded to ashes in his mouth. He was not an object to be fought over and parceled out to the victor. He was a person with thoughts and feelings, both of which they were disregarding.
He had thought that Sara, of all people, would understand how it felt to be given no say. She had railed against both Kenneth and the Witchblade's interference in her life often enough. Yet here she was, agreeing to give him to another woman if her dancing skills proved superior.
Sara and Carmelita backed away from Ian, one on either side, neither turning their back on the other. Both swayed slightly as they walked, bodies already answering the rhythm of the song that had been playing during their discussion and subsequent challenge. They kept moving until he was equidistant from both women, forming the final point on their triangle.
Nottingham was still as a statue, a brooding, angry statue perhaps, but he waited where he stood. This was a duello, and it had strict forms to be followed. He wondered how much Sara knew about them. He did not know much about this version, aside from the history.
Every time he had seen this challenge, it had been two men competing for the favor of one woman. Ian would just follow what he had seen from those other duels and hope that would be enough. At least this way, he did none of the pursuing, which would be up to the women. He was not pleased with either of them; they would both have their work cut out for them in trying to win his approval.
Carmelita locked eyes with her opponent, realizing that she did not know her name, or the identity of the delicious man she wanted to steal away from her. Not that his name mattered so much, she could get that out of him later, but with any luck she wouldn't be seeing her opponent again after tonight, so she should find out that out now. "What is your name?"
"Sara Pezzini."
"Carmelita Boucher."
"Any relation to Dominique Boucher?" Sara raised a brow. The coincidence was too much to be believed.
"She was my mother, not that the Gorgon would have wanted me to admit it. It made her feel old. Why?"
"I just don't hear the name often, I was curious." The bitterness and malice in Carmelita's voice reminded Sara of her last conversation with Dominique. Apparently, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
At the other end of the triangle, Nottingham closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't feel that he could lay all the blame for this situation with Sara anymore. The Witchblade had clearly influenced the entire evening. She was right; it was a pushy piece of jewelry.
Hell, it had even gotten to him, because he had not done a check into the background of the club. Nottingham had never failed to investigate a situation thoroughly before entering, but he had done nothing in preparation for tonight besides getting the address.
It was unforgivably sloppy of him. Ian knew that Dominique had a daughter; it was all in the files. He had even known her name. Shortly after Kenneth had dumped Dominique for her inability to truly wield the Gauntlet, she had married. Her husband, Armand Boucher, was a business rival of Irons. He owned several diamond fields in the Sierra Leone, as well as a few emerald mines in Columbia.
The marriage hadn't lasted, of course. Dominique had only accepted Armand's proposal in an attempt to get even with Irons. If she hadn't gotten pregnant, they would have parted ways inside of a year. He also knew that after the divorce Dominique had left her daughter in her ex-husband's custody, making a name for herself in the world of fashion.
The divorce settlement had gone a long way toward setting up her business. The daughter that she largely ignored had joined the competition dance circuit in her early teens, as hungry for recognition and fame as her mother. What he hadn't known was what Carmelita was doing now; the information packet on her had not been updated in two years.
When it came up during his check, and it would have, he would have talked Sara into going somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because Dominique had gotten pregnant after wearing the Witchblade, Carmelita would inherit certain genetic changes from her mother. Those changes might make her a true bearer for the Witchblade, unlike Dominique.
Three years ago Irons had arranged to meet Carmelita while on business in South America. Their encounter left him convinced that she had also received the same weaknesses as her mother, so he rejected Carmelita as a potential future Wielder. He had written her off without a second thought.
It would appear that the Gauntlet did not share Kenneth's opinion. The Witchblade had orchestrated this entire event to bring Sara into conflict with the blood of a Pretender. Ian wasn't sure why. Was it testing Sara, or did it want something from Carmelita?
Did this mean that Sara's feelings for him would evaporate after tonight? If the Witchblade had been responsible for her sudden change of heart, would she ever willingly have anything to do with him again? Would she go back to treating him with cruelty and disdain?