Disappeared

Disappeared
In any case, there was no one who wanted to live it and tell about it.
AMARA
I watched Arturo escort his friend across the room. Friend. They seemed closer than friends. His girlfriend, probably. And that was bullshit. I swallowed a swig of the alcohol the bartender had poured me and grimaced. I shouldn't have cared, but I did care, and that particular truth was bitter.
But if Amara already had a girlfriend, what the hell was I doing here, showing off like a rag doll and introducing myself to her family? And what the hell had that been in the car on the way over?

My cheeks burned at the memory; shame was stronger than desire. How many times was I going to let Amara leave me alone while he was busy with his business? Family matters, real matters, personal matters? It didn't matter. I didn't need to be present for any of that nonsense. It was just a power play, and I was getting tired of it. I took another drink in one gulp. I didn't even know who the bartender had poured it for. That didn't matter either, as long as it burned my throat going down and made me cry.
I watched Amara and her friend, who were on the other side of the room. She was perfect. The epitome of beauty; even with my hairdo, makeup and a personal stylist, I couldn't compete with her. For one thing, she didn't have as nice a French accent.
Amara approached her, and I didn't need to see what happened next. I looked away, a sudden tangle of bruised ego and wounded pride as she tilted her head toward her. I thought she was kissing me, but maybe I was wrong.
My goodness, of course I was wrong. No one owns someone for a month, especially someone who had stated categorically that he wouldn't sleep with anyone, and wasn't looking for attention elsewhere. Our arrangement meant nothing to him. It had been foolish to think otherwise, even for an instant.
That didn't mean I had to watch, though.
I slammed my glass against the bar so hard it rattled the other glasses nearby before surveying the place. I'd never been to a party like this before, where the guests were refined and gracious, where the laughter tinkled instead of booming noisily, and where the music was vibrant piano or violin notes instead of someone's jukebox or cell phone and speakers.
My dress was also extraordinary. I had never been so elegant. It wasn't like the women Amara was obviously used to. This was very important to me; I looked like something out of a fairy tale. And here I was, in this dream castle with a group of people with whom I had nothing in common, but I could certainly walk around the room and enjoy myself. I would never have this opportunity again.
I started to move slowly, almost crawling along the edge of the room, as if I was afraid to be there, as if I shouldn't have been there, but then I gave myself a jolt. Sure enough, I deserved it. I had been claimed for a gambling debt. If Nicolas didn't want me to associate with anyone, he shouldn't have brought me along. I didn't need to sneak into the shadows.
A warning about shadows lurked in my mind, but as quickly as I thought it, it disappeared.
I lifted my chin, avoiding eye contact with every crazy person in that room who seemed determined to look at me; I certainly got more attention from the party guests than from Arturo , which was interesting and even more ego-destroying.
But I was more than happy to show him how little I needed his kind of attention, where anything else going on seemed to be more interesting than spending time with me.
"Hi."
I looked around at the first person who had dared to speak to me. So far, I had only been observed, as if I were the mouse in a room full of hungry cats, content to wait. The man vaguely resembled Arthur , as did Jensen , with broad shoulders and self-confidence, but he smiled more easily, a huge grin already on his face as he looked at me.
"I'm Bastian Hollow . " He offered me his hand, but when I slipped it in, he drew me to his lips instead of the greeting I expected. His mouth brushed my knuckles and my skin flushed." I am Arthur's younger brother , much more desirable. " He lowered his voice with a conspiratorial air and winked at me.
I laughed, startled and surprised by his bold flirtation after Arturo's nonchalant attitude . "Nice to meet you," I murmured, not holding his gaze.
"It's a real pleasure to meet you," he replied, his broad chest puffed out as he inhaled deeply. "It seems Artur is busy with other things."
He waved a vague hand in the direction of where Artur had taken his friend, and I fought the sudden surge of rejection that gripped my chest.
I had not been rejected. I had been brought alone as his escort, and he could talk to whomever he wanted. Even if I seemed to be the companion Arthur sometimes wanted to sleep with. I ignored the little voice in my head that told me a companion actually belonged on someone's arm, so maybe I wasn't even one, and turned my attention back to Bastian and his seemingly permanent smile.
"Can I stand in for my incredibly inattentive brother and offer you a tour of the house?" he held out his arm for me to take. Ah, yes. This brother seemed to know about someone's arms, too.
I hesitated, but only for an instant before slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow, just as I had let Arthur walk me around the house. I ignored the pang in my stomach. Actually, I wanted Arturo to show me around the house, but it was silly. He didn't need to include me in his life, and I was just being nosy. Anyone could show me around. Maybe I'd even learn some tips for the future renovation of my own house, something that would have made Mom proud.
"Thank you. " My voice was still low, and when I looked at him, he was watching me with a mixture of curiosity and longing.