"Nicoletta!" Giovanni burst into the room, his features a hard mask, his dark eyes gleaming. He caught her to him protectively, drawing her away from his grandfather's bony fingers and sheltering her small body with his larger frame. "What is going on in here?" A wealth of menace was in the low tone, his black gaze on his grandfather's face in a kind of condemnation.
"We were discussing the idea of walking in the hills," Nicoletta said, patting the elder Scarletti's arm. "Well, among other things. I think a walk would be wonderful." She struggled to keep her face stiff, afraid she would betray the old man when he had forced himself to tell his tale of horror, to condemn himself in her eyes in order to warn her. It was a noble gesture.
Giovanni could feel her trembling. Her face was turned up to his, but her dark, eloquent eyes refused to meet his probing gaze. He faced his grandfather with controlled fury, but the older man looked fragile and seemed to sway with weariness. Giovanni had never seen him in such a state. He forced a calming breath back into his body, although his heart still raced at the warning the guard had delivered to him, fearful for Nicoletta's safety. She was so young, so innocent; he had to continually remind himself of that. She knew nothing of the curse, the reality of monsters in men.
"Are you ill, Nonno?" He made the inquiry gently, when all he wanted to do was sweep Nicoletta into his arms and carry her away from any possible danger.
His grandfather held up a hand and shook his averted head. Giovanni tightened his hold on his wife when she would have gone to comfort the older man. "We must leave and let him rest, Nicoletta," he commanded softly. He was urging her out of the room, his body pressing close so that she was forced to move into the hall.
"Traitors," she whispered to the guards as she was whisked past them. Both grinned sheepishly though un-repentantly at her.
"I know now why my ancestor built that tower," Giovanni informed her. "I think it would be in my best interest to lock you in it as soon as you rise. My heart cannot stand the strain you continually put on it."
She looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting his gaze. It was a mistake. She knew it was a mistake before she did it, but she couldn't help herself. His eyes ensnared her in a dark world of erotic need, temptation, excitement. Nicoletta didn't want to feel any of those things, not after her recent vows of good behavior. Not with his grandfather's warning echoing in her mind.
Jealousy. A madness that destroyed good men. She had already observed signs of it in Giovanni, yet the threat wasn't enough to keep the embers smoldering deep within her from leaping into flames at one look from his hungry eyes. He made her weak with need, her body coming alive when he wasn't even touching her.
He led her along the hall, his large frame urging her in the direction he wanted her to go, his body hard and hot, a temptation she wanted desperately to resist, a pleasure she wanted to taste again and again. "Giovanni." She whispered his name, a plea to let her go.
He knew it, the confusion of her thoughts; he was somehow sharing her mind. Never, cara mia. I will never release you. She could feel his fierce determination, his vow. He dragged her into a room she had never been in, firmly closing the door and turning the lock. It was smaller than many in the palazzo, with stained-glass windows and dark reliefs covering the walls. His mouth found hers, taking her response, hard and dominating, his terror of losing her evident in the firestorm of hunger rushing through his veins.
It was only when he felt the tears trickling down her face that he lifted his head, his hands framing her face so that he could kiss her eyes, the corners of her trembling mouth, taste her tears. "What is it, piccola? Am I such a monster that you cannot bear to live in this dark palazzo with such a brute?" He could never let her go; she was as essential to him as the air he drew into his lungs. He had no hope of explaining, no hope that she didn't recognize the danger to her life and how utterly selfish he was.
His voice was so tender, it turned her heart over. He sounded so alone, aching with his need of her. Nicoletta looked up at him with her innocent honesty. "I do not understand this place or the people in it. I do not know right from wrong here. You are very powerful, and you sweep me away so I do not recognize myself when I am in your arms. I do not even know you, yet I..." She trailed off, her face flushing scarlet, but she bravely met his gaze.
"Nicoletta." He seemed to breathe her name, almost in relief. "What a husband and a wife do to express feelings for one another is never wrong. How can such a thing be wrong?" His hands shaped her body, brushed her breasts, free beneath the thin material of her blouse. "Can this be wrong, that a husband would want to touch his wife, show her the strength of his feelings? Would you wish to live years without wanting what is natural between a man and woman?" His hands tugged at her blouse so that he could bend his head to the offering of her breasts.
Nicoletta closed her eyes as jagged streaks of lightning seemed to dance through her body. Her slender arms cradled his head to her. She couldn't resist him, his dark hunger and intense need. She couldn't resist the way her body craved his. "No," she whispered in defeat. And it was true. Better to live like this, wanted and fiercely alive, than unwanted, performing only for the sake of heirs and detesting the act as some other women did.
He drew up her long skirt, his hand moving up the bare flesh of her thigh until he found the hot, moist treasure he was seeking. "You take the darkness from my soul, Nicoletta," he said softly, his voice husky and aching as he pushed aside her underclothes and inserted two fingers to find her hot and tight, waiting for him. "Do you fear me so much? What do you think I will do? Teach you to please me and then name you witch to the world? You already please me." Giovanni closed his eyes, savoring the hot silk of her channel, the way her body bathed his exploring fingers with liquid fire. "I could never condemn you without condemning myself. You are my heart and soul."
She feared his possession of her more, that he could make her his slave, that she would cease to be Nicoletta and be only what he made of her. Her body was moving against his hand, wanting him, craving him. He freed himself from his confining clothing and lifted her into his arms. "Put your arms around my neck, piccola, and wrap your legs around my waist." He would never let her go, never. He wanted her needing him, wanting him, loving him so much she would never think of attempting to escape him. He would tie her to him in any way he could.
"It is you I want, no other woman." He clenched his teeth as he positioned her beckoning feminine sheath directly over the thick, bulging evidence of his need.
Nicoletta could feel him pushing against her, hot and needy. His body was trembling, rock-hard, every muscle defined. Deliberately she moved her hips, a small circling motion, enticing, wanting him with every fiber of her being. Inch by slow inch she took him into the heat of her body.
She was tight and moist and unbelievably exciting. "It is true I have had other women. I could still have them if I wanted such a thing. But for me there is only you," he whispered, his hands on her waist.
Her breath escaped in a little rush as he filled her, the position allowing him to stretch her tightly. He stopped several times to allow her body to adjust and accommodate the invasion of his. He began to move, slow and easy, careful of her youth and inexperience. The savage fury in him he kept tightly under control. He buried himself deeper, a little harder, reaching to drown himself forever in her fire. She burned away the inner darkness that crept like a monster, shadowing his life. Her flame was bright and pure, a molten, white-hot light that kept him sane.
He lost a little more control as her fingers clutched at him, as her breasts pushed against his chest and her hair spilled around her face in a blue-black curtain. She moaned softly as he pressed her back against the wall to drive ever deeper into her. His hips thrust again and again, burying himself deeper in her fiery sheath. He took her with him, his hands helping her to ride him, teaching her the way to move so that his teeth clenched with the need for self-control and he could feel her small muscles tightening around him in preparation for h
er own release. He felt her body began to spiral, rippling and bucking, triggering his own response, a violent explosion of ecstasy, and for a moment he thought she really had ignited his body and flames were dancing around him, around her, in her, through both of them.
He drew her into his arms, struggling to regain his breath, holding her close with her head nestled on his shoulder while their hearts pounded out a frantic rhythm. Both of them were damp from their fiery dances. "I did not mean to be so wild, piccola. I apologize for my lack of control. You drive out all sane thoughts. I fear all my training was for naught."
Nicoletta rested against him, unable to believe there could be such pleasure in life as that she found in this man's arms. He was powerful, an aristocratico, really no more than a stranger and one she feared, yet she found much to attract her. "Is this the way it always is between a man and a woman?" How could so many women say they lay as stone under their husbands as they "rutted"?
Giovanni stiffened, a surge of hot blood rushing through him. He tightened his arms around her to the point of pain. "It is unseemly for you to think of other men, Nicoletta," he reprimanded. "Do not ever be so foolish as to seek the answer to that question." There was a wealth of menace in his voice. He allowed her legs to drop to the floor so that her skirt fell in soft folds around her bare ankles.
Nicoletta was acutely conscious of her blouse exposing her bare breasts to his gaze, of his seed trickling down her leg. Shamed, she pulled the fabric back into place, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she stared at the floor.
Giovanni caught her chin in his hand and forced her head up. "Nicoletta," he said softly with a little sigh of resignation. "You must learn that you are a married woman now and subject to your husband only."
"I asked a question to learn the answer," she said in a low tone. "I thought one could ask such things of her husband. Maria Pia told me that only you should answer my questions. Are we to simply have this... relationship... and no other?" Nicoletta sounded forlorn. "I had thought we would be friends, too, that I could ask you anything I did not know. That is not what will be between us?"
The fury died down, leaving him feeling sheepish and guilty. "In truth, bambina, I misunderstood. Signorina Sigmora is correct. Your husband should instruct you in these matters. I do not know why I spoke harshly to you. It was wrong of me." He bent to brush his mouth gently over her lips still swollen with passion. "I know we will be friends. And you can ask me anything. No, it is not always so between a man and woman. Nicoletta..." He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "Do not be alone in the presence of other men. It is not safe for you."
"Do you mean your nonno? He has no reason to hurt me."
"Heed my words, cara mia." He reiterated, "It is not safe."
Chapter Fifteen
"Ketsia is already here, Nicoletta," Sophie said petulantly. "Hurry up. We want you to come with us."
Nicoletta smiled up at Bernado and Maria Pia as she took another sip of the hot tea that had been awaiting her. "I seem to always miss breakfast, Bernado. Grazie for all the extra trouble you must go to for me. It is much appreciated." She smiled at Sophie, who was tugging at her skirt. "As for you, little imp, you must learn patience. If I do not eat what Bernado has so skillfully prepared for me, he will not do so again."
Sophie laughed. "Of course he will. He always does."
"Then you should hold him in high esteem and treat him with great respect. Always remember that, bambino. Those who care for you and work hard for you should always be accorded proper respect. They are more than servants, they should be a famiglia. Do you understand?" Nicoletta imparted the advice gently, tipping up the child's face so she could brush a quick kiss on her cheek. "Did you take care of Maria Pia for me? I worried about her until I remembered she was with you. I knew you would be good to her."
Sophie beamed, radiant under the praise. "She promised to tell me stories of you as a bambina."
Nicoletta laughed softly. "Those stories might not be appropriate for your ears. I was always in trouble. Come kiss me good morn and take Ketsia off to the courtyard for your morning romp. The rain has brought us a fresh clean day."
She waited until the two little girls had kissed and hugged her and skipped off to play before turning her attention to Maria Pia. "Why are you staring at me as if I have grown two heads?"
Maria Pia lightly slapped Nicoletta's hand. "There is no need for that sharp tongue, piccola. I am not looking at you in any such way. Perhaps you are feeling guilty for sleeping most of the day away."
Nicoletta found herself blushing. Her sleep had been interrupted pleasurably by her very passionate husband. Nicoletta was unsure of herself, uncertain whether the things going on in her bedchamber were as right as her husband assured her they were. "I intend to go walking this morn," she answered calmly. "How is everything with you at night, Maria Pia? Nothing is amiss in that room, is it? Young Sophie has not been attempting to go into the passageway again, has she?"
"Don Scarletti ensured she did not. He took her into the passage and showed her that there were hidden traps." Maria Pia frowned. "I went with them to be certain she would not think it a punishment." She had gone to keep Sophie from danger. She didn't trust the don with either of her charges. "You might remember, Nicoletta, that it was an ancestor of the don who devised such a wicked thing. Even so long ago there was murder and madness in the famiglia. What normal man would think of such evil things?" Her voice was gloomy.
Nicoletta laughed softly. "Have you seen the dungeon? When he threatens to make that my home, I promise to tell you."
"Do not make light of it, Nicoletta," Maria Pia reprimanded.
Nicoletta leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "I am sorry. I wanted only to see you smile. It is beautiful today. I promise to meet you in the courtyard and take those little imps off your hands as soon as I am able."
Maria Pia smiled in spite of herself. "You always find a way to get around me." She leaned close, glancing back toward the guards to make certain they weren't paying close attention. "I am sorry, piccola, but I must confess, something is not quite right. I pulled a chair in front of the passageway last night as you instructed, to make certain no one could enter the room while we slept. I also locked the outer door and removed the key. I did fall asleep, but then I awoke to a noise at the door." She lowered her voice even more. "I think someone was trying to get into the room."
The smile faded from Nicoletta's face. Her heart seemed to stop. Color drained from her face. "You should have told me at once. I knew I should never have asked you to stay here. I knew it." She suddenly looked fierce. "No one is going to hurt you or Sophie. I will ask Giovanni to place guards at your door at night."
Maria Pia regarded her with serious eyes. "It could be the don who seeks to harm us. We do not know, bambino." She tried to soften the suspicion with the endearment.
"It is not Giovanni," Nicoletta denied. "I know it is not." Even to her own ears she sounded defiant rather than certain. She was lost in the erotic web he had woven around her, a spell of enchantment so strong she could not break free of him.
"I hope you are right," Maria Pia said softly as she rose.
Nicoletta didn't look at her, tapping her fingers on the tabletop as she considered her relationship with Giovanni. He was very gentle and tender with her, yet she could feel the fire raging in his blood, making him a darkly passionate man. He was secretive, meeting at all hours of the day and night with visitors whisked in and out of the palazzo before any other could see them. He protected these guests from prying eyes. Twice Nicoletta had observed Antonello hovering close but out of sight, as if he were hiding from his brother as well as the constant stream of visitors.
Were they paid assassins? Giovanni had all but admitted to her that he eliminated threats to his people and lands as soon as he heard of them. Suddenly aware of the silence in the kitchen, Nicoletta stood up, smiling at Bernado. "An excellent meal, as always. I do not know what Don Scarletti would do without y
ou, signore. Is there anything you need? I will see that you get it." She made the offer in the hope it was true. Giovanni did seem to cater to her whims. He often smiled at her with great amusement, but he indulged her.
Bernado bowed low. "Don Giovanni has already spoken to me this morn, Donna Nicoletta. Grazie! Grazie! I gave him a list, and he has said it will be done. You are truly an angel."
Nicoletta laughed softly and shook her head. "You have not asked the opinion of my guards, Bernado. I fear they would not agree with you."
The two men shook their heads at her nonsense and followed her out of the room, as silent as ever. Her shadows. Nicoletta sighed as she walked along the corridor toward Maria Pia's bedchamber. She wanted to examine it and then the room where Sophie had been so ill. What was it about the two rooms that nagged at her? She was used to wide-open spaces, used to freedom, not being watched every minute of the day and night. Something deep inside her was rising up in rebellion, and the strength of it was frightening.
A dark shadow passed through her as she neared a room on the lower floor, one she had never explored. She slowed, her feet turning almost automatically, and the shadow lengthened and grew inside her. The door was ajar, and she peeked in. The room was a study of some kind, with books and paintings from floor to ceiling. She had never seen such riches. Nicoletta opened the door farther to see the woman who had drawn her there.
The same maid she had borrowed the broom from was attempting to dust, but she couldn't reach the spot she was trying to clean. Nicoletta could hear her muffled moans of pain as she worked to raise her arm. Very softly, Nicoletta closed the door on the two guards and went to the woman.
"You are hurt," she said. "I am a healer. Perhaps I may help."
The woman whirled around, her face tear-streaked, her eyes bright red. When she saw Nicoletta, she looked terrified, the color draining from her face. "I... I am not hurt, Donna Scarletti. You are mistaken. I am doing my job." Her eyes were darting from side to side, looking around the room and then at the door fearfully, reminding Nicoletta of a wild animal trapped in a corner.