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     Angélique frowned. “Completely improper, Master Draganovich. You may escort me to the villa, or not at all.” She tried to brush past him, but again he blocked her.
     “You don’t understand. I didn’t come all this way for a mere concert.” He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close to him, despite her struggle. “I came for you,” he whispered. He held her more tightly, crushing her against him. “You have charmed me utterly. I must have you for my own!”
     Draganovich pressed his mouth on hers, stifling her protests and ignoring her efforts to free herself. Furious, she bit his lip until she tasted blood. He pushed her away, holding his lip as blood gushed down his chin.
     “Monsieur, you offend me!” Angélique slapped him, sending his glasses flying. She spat blood at his feet. “How dare you violate me in this manner!”
     He glared at the blood on his hand, then turned his beetle-browed, deformed eyes to her. Angélique wrinkled her nose in revulsion at his light brown animal eyes, set too wide apart and slanted back. 
     Those animal eyes narrowed in anger. “You should not have done that.”