Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4) by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci Page B

and embarrassment uniting and tinting her cheeks a deep scarlet.  Desmond’s hands fell slack at his sides.  Arianna looked at the woman whose eyes were now boring holes into her skull with the intensity of their stare.  “Hi, I’m Arianna,” she said and extended a hand to the woman.  She decided to introduce herself rather than wait around for Desmond to do it.  He seemed to have left his manners at at his father’s house on the Antarctic Peninsula. 
    “Hello, Arianna.  I am Amitt,” the woman said and examined her hand as if it were coated in waste.  She spoke with an exotic inflection that scuttled across Arianna’s skin like the legs of innumerable insects.  The words, though benign enough, dripped from her lips like poison.  And the look of disdain when she’d offered a hand caused Arianna to retract her own, mirroring the expression.  Who was this Amitt? Why had she returned with Desmond?  Why hadn’t he sifted to the clearing, to their cabin?  Why had he chosen to place himself in the woods first, lurking like a stalker, then parade Amitt out like a trophy?  Too many questions bombarded Arianna’s brain causing a quickening like the flutter of a moth’s wings to pulse in her belly. 
    Am itt watched her, as if reading her thoughts, her full lips pursed and a sharp brow arched.  Her gaze was like a hot brand.  And she had yet to remove it from Arianna. 
    Arianna decided to ask for herself and find out who the hell this imposing figure with the perpetual scowl was exactly.  After all, she was Arianna Rose, the Sola, not some schoolgirl easily intimidated by a good-looking woman.  Okay, so maybe good-looking was a bit of an understatement , she thought. The woman would put any current model to shame – lingerie and otherwise .  Nevertheless, she was with Desmond, not this Amitt character in her hooker getup. 
    “I’m sorry, who the hell are you and why are you draped over my boyfriend like a cheap suit?” she cut to the chase and demanded.  She planted her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders, not hiding her annoyance. 
    Amitt’s pointed brow s spiked for the shortest of moments before settling back to their sinister placement.  She allowed her full, puckered lips to part and spread slowly into an arcane smile.  Amitt’s smug, mysterious smirk inflamed Arianna so much she entertained answering the urge to punch her squarely in her plump mouth. 
    “Arianna!  What is your problem? You’re embarrassing me!” Desmond’s eyes raked over her body as he scolded her.  “Amitt is my cousin!  Apologize immediately!”
    Desmond had never raised his voice at her in the heat of anger before.  This was the first time.  Arianna felt heat blaze from her chest to her neck ending finally at her cheeks.
    “Oh Desmond,” Amitt crooned and turned her swan-like neck so that she face d him.  She slipped a long, supple arm under his, wrapping it like a serpent, and pressed her full bosom to his bicep. “Leave the girl alone.  Can’t you see you’ve embarrassed her ?”  Amitt snickered softly and lined the arm she clutched with a long, sharp-looking fingernail.  “She’s learned her lesson.  I doubt she will say anything more.”  Amitt glared at her, still grazing his skin.
    A scalding tendril of jealousy sparked through Arianna’s veins as she watched Amitt fondle Desmond’s arm as if she were his lover and Arianna the cousin.  She’d also had the audacity to refer to her as the girl .  Arianna was not a girl.  She was a woman; a powerful woman with supernatural abilities she could hardly harness.  Maybe Amitt needed a little example of her power.  Perhaps a little cone of fire aimed at her pin-straight hair would do the trick. 
    The image of Amitt running back and forth with her hair smoking while the kind of music that played in silent films provided a comical soundtrack that made a weak grin appear on her lips.  But a quick look at the self-satisfied