Page 20 of The Scarletti Curse


  Unbidden came the image of his scraped knuckles, the incriminating droplet of blood on his otherwise immaculate clothing. Nicoletta felt her heart pound uncomfortably. His gaze continued to bore straight into hers, and she couldn't turn away from him. She knew he was waiting for it, knew he expected her to denounce him. Don Scarletti, Il Demonio of the palazzo. The curse. The whispers. The rumors.

  Giovanni stood tall and straight, his black eyes fathomless, his features carefully expressionless. Nicoletta took a breath and let it out slowly. "Will you send your men to search the entire maze for him? Perhaps Cristano could not find his way out."

  He bowed slightly. "At once, piccola. And I will send them into the hills to see if the boy was injured on his way home," he added deliberately to remind her of the numerous other travelers who had fallen victim to wild animals, the terrain, or even to robbers. His voice was incredibly gentle. A warmth brushed at the walls of her mind so that she felt somewhat comforted.

  Nicoletta swallowed the hard knot in her throat. It was difficult to think straight with the don watching her so intently. She could feel Maria Pia's eyes on her now, as accusing as they had been on Don Scarletti.

  "You were the last person to see Cristano alive, Don Scarletti." Maria Pia said what Nicoletta would not. Her very tone was a declaration of his guilt.

  "We do not know that he is dead, Signorina Sigmora," Giovanni pointed out softly. His voice held a thread of menace, as if his patience was fast wearing thin. "If the young man met his demise in the maze, the scavengers would be present overhead."

  Relief swept through Nicoletta. "That is true, Maria Pia," she said. But a terrible dread was creeping into her mind and heart and soul like a dark shadow. She would know if someone was hurt, would she not? She always knew.

  Maria Pia faced the don bravely. "The wedding should be postponed until the young man is found," she challenged. If you are exonerated. The words were left unspoken, but they shimmered there in the room, as vividly as if Maria Pia had uttered them aloud in condemnation.

  The black eyes gleamed ominously. "Nothing will stop the wedding, Signorina Sigmora. Not you, not this errant young man. For all I know, he disappeared with every intention of bringing a halt to the wedding plans. We are to be married on the morrow." It was a decree, Giovanni's dark features implacable.

  For a moment Maria Pia looked mutinous, but the don's words seemed to sink in. She knew Cristano well. He had a childish temper and, if humiliated, could sulk for days. He was quite capable of disappearing to frighten the compassionate Nicoletta and thus get back at her for not marrying him as he had demanded. Still, she had the feeling that Nicoletta was in terrible danger, and she wanted desperately to drag her from the palazzo. Maria Pia looked at her young charge. "Mayhap I am worrying over nothing," she said softly, looking at the floor in defeat. Don Scarletti was not going to give up her beloved Nicoletta; she could see it in his masculine aggressiveness, his possessive posture each time he was near the younger woman. Perhaps it was her fear for Nicoletta, living in such an environment, that had caused her to condemn the don so rashly.

  Giovanni reached out to capture Nicoletta's hand, taking it right out of Maria Pia's grasp. It was a blatant gesture, claiming her, branding Nicoletta as his own. He carried her fingers to the warmth of his mouth. His black gaze was locked on hers, and she had that strange feeling of falling forward, to be trapped for all eternity in the depths of his eyes. Time stood still. Her heart beat for him. She felt the rush of blood, of heat, of liquid fire.

  Don Scarletti released her reluctantly, his touch lingering for a moment before he glided away. "I have kept my visitor waiting far too long, and I must arrange for my men to begin the search for your young friend."

  Nicoletta stood rather dazed, as if in a trance, staring at the closed door after the don left the room.

  Maria Pia sighed heavily. "Do you believe him, Nicoletta? Really believe him? Because I am not certain I do. It is possible Cristano is hiding out in the hills. When he was a boy and angry with his madre, he did such things, or perhaps he is hurt and needs help." She was watching Nicoletta closely as she spoke.

  Nicoletta's teeth teased nervously at her lower lip. She would know if someone was in need, and Maria Pia was well aware of it. Nicoletta had always known. And the bird would come to her. She looked at the older woman with stricken eyes. "I must go outside where I can feel the wind on my face. I want to look at the sky."

  "What do you have in your hair?" Maria Pia reached around her and picked strands of a spider web from her long hair. "What have you been doing?" For the first time she noticed the severed broomstick the don had carefully removed from Nicoletta's hands when she had been in danger of injuring him with it. It had been neatly sliced through with a blade of some kind. Maria Pia picked it up, turning it this way and that to examine it before looking at Nicoletta with a frown.

  "Do not ask," Nicoletta said, shoving a hand through her long hair. "You arrived after the misadventure in the hidden passageway. What matters now is that you no longer wish me to marry the don. You were not quite so opposed of late."

  "Something is wrong here, piccola. When I am in this house, I feel the echo of your madre's screams as she was thrown over the ramparts. I can feel the spirits of the other dead. They are uneasy in this palazzo." She made the sign of the cross and kissed her crucifix. "May the good Madonna-save you from your enemies."

  Nicoletta did not protest. She knew she had enemies at the palazzo; she just didn't know why. She felt eyes staring at her in disapproval each time she left her bedchamber. "I must go outside," she said again. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. She opened the door, turning back toward Maria Pia as she did so. "How did all of this start, so long ago? When did they first whisper of the curse on the famiglia Scarletti? Is it possible there is a strain of madness in their blood?"

  Maria Pia glanced past Nicoletta to the waiting guards. "It is not a good thing to speak of in this place where the walls have eyes and ears." She lifted her chin. "Come, let us go out to the courtyard. We will see if the don kept his word and sent his men looking for Cristano."

  For some reason it irritated Nicoletta that Maria Pia entertained the notion that the don would betray their trust. "I can imagine many things about Don Scarletti, but he lives by his word. He would not tell me one thing and do another," she defended.

  Maria Pia looked at her sharply. "Perhaps you are already falling under his spell. I told you to be careful. He can read minds, make one say things one does not wish to reveal. You must be strong, Nicoletta. Until you know more of the don..."

  "The man who is to be my husband," Nicoletta corrected. "We are to be wed on the morrow. I will live with him, and this palazzo will be my home. I have no choice in the matter. You said not even the holy father would defy the don."

  Maria Pia muttered unintelligibly as they moved down the long corridor to the stairs. She looked at the banister and once more crossed herself devoutly. "Look at this, Nicoletta. A serpent coiled around a tree branch! That is the artwork on his stairs. What manner of man is he?"

  "He inherited the palazzo and the title from his father and his father before him, and so on. What should he have done? Refused to live here because he did not like the artwork on the stairs? It is actually quite beautiful, Maria Pia. If you look at some of the work, it is truly remarkable."

  Maria Pia resorted to clucking as she often did when she was agitated. "I fear he has cast a spell over you, bambina."

  Nicoletta glanced over her shoulder at the silent guards following them at a circumspect distance. "Where is little Sophie?" The child would still be upset that Nicoletta had been trapped in the secret passage.

  "She was sent to her room, signorina," the guard replied, raising an eyebrow at his partner.

  The other guard shrugged with a wry grin and placed something in the first guard's open palm.

  Nicoletta ignored the byplay between the two men. "I must go to her; she will be frightened. By now she will thin
k i fantasmi have gotten me."

  As she started back up the stairs, the guard shook his head. "She was removed from the nursery and is on the first floor."

  Nicoletta smiled at him. "Thank you." She knew the exact hideous room the child had been banished to. She ran along the corridor, waving to the maid she had taken the broom from earlier. The woman stopped working long enough to lift a hand in return, blushing when she noticed the two guards trailing behind Nicoletta.

  Sophie was facedown on the big bed, so small she could barely be seen among the covers. Nicoletta rushed to her and dragged her into her arms, rocking her while the child sobbed as if her heart were breaking. "I thought I killed you!" She hiccuped the words, her tears soaking Nicoletta's neck and face. "I am sorry, Nicoletta."

  "Bambina." Nicoletta hugged her even closer. "You did not do anything wrong. You did exactly what you should have done. Don Scarletti commanded you to open the door, and of course you must do as he says."

  Sophie lifted her head, looking forlorn. "I can never go out of this room again. Zio Gino and Papa told me never to go into the hidden passageway. They said it was dangerous. I have to stay here forever now. I have to be punished." She wailed the last dramatically.

  Nicoletta's soft mouth curved. "Who told you to stay in your room?"

  "Zio Gino." Sophie looked as pathetic as possible.

  Nicoletta laughed softly. "Maria Pia shall stay with you, and I will go talk to your zio. Perhaps he will think you have been punished enough. But you must heed his warnings. I do not think i fantasmi guard the passageway, but certain traps in there can endanger your life. You must promise me you will never go in there again."

  Sophie nodded vigorously, willing to promise Nicoletta anything at all.

  "Dry your tears, bambina. I will get you out of your prison." She ruffled the child's hair and beckoned Maria Pia into the room to comfort Sophie while she was gone.

  Nicoletta hurried back along the hall, making a little face at the two guards who seemed so amused by her antics. "Wagering is sinful," she reminded them haughtily, but neither looked in the least repentant that she knew what they had been about. Instead, both openly grinned at her.

  Outside the don's study, she hesitated, her courage suddenly faltering. She was interrupting his work, intruding on his time. She was all at once unsure of herself. Don Scarletti had been more than kind to her, but he had a certain reputation, and Nicoletta wasn't blind to the fact that he was a powerful man. He had probably earned that reputation many times over. She bit her lip in an agony of indecision. She couldn't very well encourage Sophie to defy her uncle and leave her room without permission. Her bare foot tapped out a rhythm of nerves on the tiled floor. He had already been interrupted once, leaving his important visitor to rescue her from the passage.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the guards. They were whispering together, no doubt making another wager on what her actions would be. She rapped on the door quickly before she completely lost her nerve, glaring at the guards as she did so. The same soldier had to hand over his losses. She raised an eyebrow at him. "One would think you would have learned the first time."

  He burst out laughing. Giovanni opened the door to find Nicoletta sharing the merriment with her two guards. He sighed heavily and wrapped his palm around the nape of her neck as he moved out into the corridor, closing the door to his study behind him, obviously to afford his visitor privacy and anonymity. His thumbs tipped her face up to his. "Once again I find you without your chaperone, cara mia. Did you run away from Signorina Sigmora again? How is it you manage to elude her? She looks quite capable to me."

  That faint betraying shiver began again, from deep within her. She glanced at the guards. They were no help, moving away to give the don privacy in dealing with his errant bride-to-be. Giovanni urged her closer to the hard strength of his body. "You have misplaced your shoes again, I see. What is so urgent, piccola, that you would dare Il Demonio in his lair?" His thumb was feathering along the delicate line of her jaw to linger over her frantically beating pulse.

  Her dark eyes were enormous as she looked up at him. "I do not think of you as Il Demonio," she denied.

  He raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Is that so?"

  "I might have before I met you," she conceded reluctantly, unfailingly truthful.

  His eyes gleamed at her, a wicked amusement dancing in their black depths. "I may have become one since I met you," he answered her suggestively.

  She frowned at him. "I think you like to scare me with your wickedness, Don Scarletti, but in truth, I am not so easily frightened." It was the truth. No one else seemed to frighten her quite the way he did. "I... I have a need to speak with you... about your order to have your men taste my food and drink. I would not wish anyone to become ill on my account," she ventured, hesitant to bring down his wrath on little Sophie, preferring that he spend it on her first.

  Giovanni shook his head gravely. "I will not rescind my order, cara mia, not even to please you. But you knew that. I suspect you had another reason to seek me out."

  She regarded him steadily for a moment, tapping her foot nervously on the floor, considering how best to argue with him. He looked far too implacable. She sighed heavily. She didn't want to reduce Sophie's chances for freedom. But in any case, he was watching her with such unbelievable intensity, she wasn't certain she would be able to think clearly much longer. "I would like to take young Sophie with me into the courtyard. She is very sorry for her disobedience, and I have lectured her on the dangers of the passageway, although I think she could be given a demonstration from her zio Gino, as she respects him very much. In any case, I encouraged her to aid me. She should not be punished."

  He stared down at her for so long, she thought she might melt. Nicoletta was mesmerized by the hot intensity in his gaze. She was very aware of his body, too, so close to hers that she could feel the heat of his skin. Again a current seemed to arc between them like a lightning bolt, sizzling and dancing until her skin was sensitive and ached with need. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her body went weak. Butterfly wings brushed at her stomach; her body clenched, and heat pooled low within her. She honestly didn't know who moved first.

  His mouth fastened to hers, hot and exciting, sweeping her away with him. It was a dark promise, erotic, sensual, his tongue demanding her response rather than asking for it. She melted into him, boneless and pliant, her body molding to his, so that she felt his fierce arousal. Instead of pulling away as she should have, Nicoletta reveled in her power, wanting more, suddenly craving his dark secrets, aching with a need so strong she burned with it. Liquid fire. Molten heat.

  Her breasts swelled with desire, pushing into the heavy muscles of his body, straining for his touch. The thin material of her blouse seemed all at once too much of a barrier between them. Her mind was suddenly filled with images: her hands on his skin, his palm cupping her breast, his mouth blazing fire along her throat, lower, across bare skin to close, hot and moist, over her aching nipple. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

  Giovanni lifted his head, his hand still curled around the nape of her neck, her body resting against his. "I need you, Nicoletta." His voice was husky and sensual. "Dio! I do not think I can wait one more night. Go take the child into the courtyard, and do not find any more trouble. Keep Signorina Sigmora with you at all times; she is your only protection."

  She could feel his strong body trembling with the effort to allow her to go. A good girl would have been appalled at his conduct, shocked and horrified at her own, but Nicoletta suspected she wasn't as good as Maria Pia would have liked. She wanted the don's hands on her body. She knew he wanted her. Nicoletta. Not any other. She made him nearly as weak with wanting as he made her. She smiled up at him, trying desperately to find a way to breathe.

  He groaned softly. "You cannot do that, piccola. You cannot look at me with such trust and need in your eyes." He kissed the top of her head. "I am not to be trusted around you. Go
find your worthless chaperone and insist she stay attached to your side." Giovanni carefully put her from him. "I promise I will impress Sophie sufficiently to stay out of the passageway. Now go while I still have some respect for myself."

  Nicoletta didn't dare look at the two guards. She knew they would have smirks on their faces, and at the moment she didn't care. She looked up at the don, and for the first time she touched his shadowed jaw with her fingertips, a small, almost tender caress. Her gaze moved over his face as if drinking him in.

  Giovanni shook his head and bent toward her so that his mouth was against her ear. "I think you may be the witch Margerita has named you, casting your spells to mesmerize a mere man." His breath warmed her skin and sent tiny shivers of flame dancing in her blood.

  For the first time, she wasn't afraid of the taunt. She turned her face so her lips moved tantalizingly against his. "I would not call you a 'mere man,' Don Scarletti, not ever." It was a brush of sinful, silken heat, their mouths touching as she whispered to him. Her body moved against his in restless need. Hot desire flared in his eyes, a firestorm of such intensity it robbed both of them of their ability to breathe.

  This time it was Nicoletta who moved away. She turned and walked slowly down the corridor, her hips swaying with feminine invitation. Don Scarletti could not be evil. It couldn't be so. No matter how many rumors flew about the palazzo and their don, she couldn't find it in her heart to believe him a murderer. Her head down, she wasn't looking where she was going, so she nearly jumped when someone grabbed her arm and yanked her into a small alcove.

  She landed against the wall and found herself staring up at the don's grandfather. He looked wilder than ever, his face twisted into a fierce scowl, his bushy brows drawn together into one frightening line. Over his shoulder she saw the two guards rushing forward. Hastily she shook her head at them, a warning to back away. They did so reluctantly, staying close enough to reach her should there be need. Their presence enabled her to relax in the old man's surprisingly strong grasp.