A Love Worthy

Chapter Seven

      

            Ginelle had awakened some time before the sun had arisen. She had slept very little throughout the night, her mind plagued with fond memories that brought terrible pain to her heart. She had dreamt of warm, blue eyes and a smile that always comforted her fears. Her memories revealed moments of laughter and excitement as she and Eloise endured the velocity of time discussing literature and indulging on sweetened pastries.

            Ginelle gripped the edges of her robe as she stood before the window, her distant thoughts forcing unshed tears to her weary eyes.

            The dream had given her a moment of happiness but her happiness was short lived and she was standing before a casket, peering down at a listless body so pale and cold, empty of warmth and compassion, only the body before her was that of her father. Her loving devoted father who had abandoned her to this dejected world.

            Ginelle released a sharp breath followed by a heart-wrenching sob. She pressed a curled fist against her mouth to muffle her cry. Her chest ached with that familiar stab of pain and the erratic pace of her heart hastened with the profound grief that filled that deep hollowness in her chest.

            Her fingers curled around the locket dangling from around her neck and she whispered a silent prayer to her mother to take care of her father whose pain had been so unbearable that he left his daughter to brace the world alone on a misguided path of sorrow.

            How could he have been so selfish; to take his own life and abandon his child? Would she ever be able to forgive him?

            Her thoughts shifted to Eloise. Eloise had spoken very little of her family. She claimed Dorian had been her only kin left to her. What had happened to their mother and father? Her heart suddenly ached for Dorian. He was as much alone as she was in the world. Was his grief as deep? How badly did his sister’s death affect him?

            She knew very little to nothing about Dorian Don Ashford except that he stirred feelings in her that were both of fear and exhilaration. What was it about her reluctant guardian that left her breathless whenever he was near?

            He was indeed a menacing and challenging man who struck a fear in her that was quite unnerving but along with that fear were curiosity and a smidge of-what? Surely that feeling wasn’t admiration?

            Yes; admiration. She affirmed silently. She admired him because despite his short temperament and overbearing dominance, he had yet to lift a hand to her for her deliberate antagonism. In spite of her colored opinion of men she found she had the courage to stand her ground, even to a man like Dorian but what if she were wrong? What if Dorian were very much like the men she feared? He insisted on making decisions for her; could his ulterior motives be that of dominating her simply because she refused to submit to his demands?

            She pressed her fingers unknowingly to her lips at the remembrance of his kiss. She remembered the shock of electricity that coursed through her body at the memory of his fingers at the nape of her neck and the way his mouth invaded her own. She had never been kissed by a man and the sheer exhilarated feeling left her breathless and shaken, even now as she remembered the abrupt intimacy.