RAINE: THE LORDS OF SATYR
Chapter One
Venice, Italy
September 1823
Jordan shifted on the wooden chair upon which she'd been
carefully posed, causing the drape over it to slip sideways and
slither into a heap on the floor.
The artist's charcoal paused.
"Sia tranquillo!" he snapped. "Be still, can't you?"
"Simple enough for you to say," Jordan grumbled, retrieving
the drape and attempting to pat it back into some semblance
of its former placement. "I've been sitting in this position for so
long I'm stiff as a sailor's cock."
The artist flexed his charcoal-smeared fingers. "Taci! Silenzio,
you vulgar creature! No one's forcing you to come here and
display yourself in such a manner."
His charcoal resumed its scratching upon the sheet of vellum
perched on an easel before him.
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