Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(69)

I hear nothing but a suppressed laugh. With a smile on his lips, he leans closer to my ear and whispers, “Because my goddaughter forbade me to marry anyone but her.”

We try hard not to burst into laughter.

My face beams with joy as I look him in the eye. I can’t help but wrap my arms around his neck. “So, are you gonna propose to her, then?” I ask, still teasing—or not.

“Ms. Van Gatt,” he murmurs quite close to my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. My eyes dart down to his lips. Imploring to have them. Just kiss me now, Alex. He does kiss me. But on my forehead. I close my eyes, reveling in his touch. To my surprise, his kiss is long, laced with feelings that squeeze my heart even more. Then I look at him with parted lips, but in pain from the harsh reality—I might never have more than this. And as if he could feel it, he hugs me tight. So tight that my pulse bounces intensely as I nuzzle his neck. “Don’t ask questions you might not like the answer to,” he finally replies in a low voice.

What does that even mean? Does he know my feelings? Does he know I would have said yes? Oh, Alex, if you knew…

When he releases me, I can’t help but sigh, displeased with his answer. Meanwhile, his attention shifts back to the dance floor.

Nevertheless, I try to find another plausible subject. “I heard you’ve got a nice view from your villa…” I dare to mention, hoping he’ll somehow invite me there.

“It’s nice, yes. But I’m sure you have a similar one.”

I feel a punch in my heart at his rejection and shame to have had such futile hopes. After all, it’s our last night here in Rio. How stupid you are, girl. He’s with Rafaela, not you.

At the end of the dance, everyone claps and whistles while the couple moves away to let the guests enjoy the next song. The DJ changes to a more inviting and sensual Brazilian vibe and puts on some kizomba.

Luiz grabs my hand abruptly. “Let’s dance!”

“I don’t know kizomba, Luiz!” I contest nervously, still troubled by having been dragged down to the dance floor so fast. Luiz has been drinking quite a lot over dinner, along his brother. No wonder he feels so comfortable and confident enough to dance kizomba.

“It’s alright. Just let the music play, feel my movements, and let me guide you.”

My heart keeps racing. I’ve never danced kizomba before. Everyone around me is dancing, pinned to their partners. I don’t want to do such sensual moves with Luiz, but I know Alex will be staring—or at least I hope so. I nestle my body against his and follow his rhythm. I blush as he brings my body even closer to his.





Alexander Van Dieren





Despite being with Rafaela and Roy on a sofa in front of the dance floor, the talk with Petra hasn’t left my mind. Her question either. So, are you gonna propose to her, then?

Wake up, Alex. She was just joking. But damn. What if she really does want to marry me? She’s turning eighteen in less than two months, after all. A smile escapes as I think about an alternative reply to her question. What if I do? Do you think she will say yes? Fuck. I should feel disgusted at the thought of it, and yet I feel the contrary.

“Looks like your goddaughter is having fun,” murmurs Rafaela in my ear. “We should do the same.”

I choke on my whiskey as I glance at the dance floor. I blink, my jaw dropping in shock. I softly tap Roy’s shoulder. “Don’t you think she is dancing way too close to him?”

“Relax. That’s how young folks dance nowadays,” Rafaela insists.

Roy can’t stop laughing. “You’ve become even more protective than me, my dear friend.” He gives me a soft clap on the back. “Take it easy.”

I take another sip from my glass, but I can’t relax or take it easy, no.

“Do you want to dance?” asks Rafaela. I don’t pay attention. “Or maybe we could go somewhere quieter…” she whispers. But I’m too busy staring attentively at Luiz caressing Petra’s leg while she’s going down with him, following the sensual rhythm of kizomba. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips twitch into a smile. Luiz holds her tightly by the waist, his mouth dangerously close to hers. Damn, is she feeling pleasure dancing so close to him? I realize at that moment the most terrifying thing ever, something that scares the hell out of me: one day or another, Petra will do it with someone—she’ll give herself to a man and find pleasure with him, a man that she might even marry. Fuck. A man other than me. I let out a sigh, my heart bleeding, and take another sip. You’re pathetic, man. But the whiskey is not strong enough. As I look once more at the dance floor, trying to get used to the cruel reality, I can’t help but feel revolted by it.

“I’m glad to see she’s enjoying Luiz’s company,” adds Rafaela before taking a sip of her champagne.

“Pfff. She’s way out of his league,” I rebuke.

“Hey, I know Luiz. I don’t agree. I think he’s a fine young man.”

“I don’t like his intentions…” I mumble, emptying my glass.

“Oh, c’mon, she’s nearly eighteen. She also has the same intentions with him.”

“You don’t know her.” And I hope the conversation ends here.

“Well, I know women. We have desires just like—”