"What happened on our wedding night?" Nicoletta asked softly. Antonello had been in the hallway, calling her husband away from her.
"It is necessary to silence those who choose to oppose us, those who would betray us and endanger our famiglie. I was asked to speak to two emissaries sent by an ally who was in need of aid. But the 'visitors' were actually assassins sent to kill me. They did not succeed." He spoke softly, matter-of-factly.
Then he moved up behind her, sheltering her from the wind with his body. "We need unity, and Austria has no real desire to rule this country; she has far too many other troubles. I believe we can strengthen our position and move our people into place to be ready to take advantage when the offer to align comes to pass. It is my belief that Austria will leave the ruling to the stronger famiglie. I see no way other than unification with her to protect my people."
Very gently he circled her slender body with his arms and drew her back against his chest. "Have I told you how proud you make me? I know it was wrong of me to bring you into a dangerous world of intrigue, but I could not help myself. I did my best to stay away from you, but there you were, right in front of me, no longer haunting my dreams, no longer whispered reports from my men, but real flesh and blood and so beautiful I could not breathe when I looked at you."
She tipped her head back, resting it against his broad shoulder, her dark eyes laughing up at him. "You were breathing. I recall my first meeting with you, signore, quite vividly. You were definitely breathing. As sick as you were, you were still the most powerful man I had ever met. And you looked at me..."
"I had to look at you. I could not take my eyes off you," he admitted softly.
She smiled as she stared out into the gathering darkness at the swaying trees with their silvery leaves. "In truth, I cannot say I am sorry that you chose me to be your bride. I dream of a time when our people are happy and unafraid in the palazzo, a time we can get to know one another without interference from the outside world."
His mouth drifted lazily over her silky hair, found her ear, and tasted her skin for a moment while his hands moved up her narrow ribs to settle just below the soft weight of her breasts. "The outside world is conspiring to keep me away from you," he whispered softly, his breath a warm temptation. "But you know, piccola, there is no one out here to interfere with us now."
She could feel the heat of his body, the way he thickened and hardened, pressing tightly against her. Nicoletta smiled at his reaction and pressed even closer to him. She tilted her head back and moved restlessly, an invitation to his wandering hands. It was like that with him. He touched her, and her body seemed to go up in flames. It wasn't simply a matter of wanting him to touch her; she needed him to touch her. She seemed to catch fire, to melt each time he looked at with his desire flaring in his black eyes.
Daringly, she reached behind her to circle his neck with one arm, bringing his head down to her. His mouth found the pulse beating frantically in her neck. He found each of the bruises on her throat, his mouth warm and soothing, hot and exciting. Giovanni inhaled the clean scent of her. She seemed untamed and free, elusive, a part of the mystery of the night, yet she burned for him when his teeth scraped her soft skin and his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples into hard peaks through the thin cloth of her blouse.
The air was crisp, the wisps of fog weaving a shimmering screen of white lace around them. The shadows in the trees lengthened and grew until it was nearly impossible to see into the forest interior. They could hear the distant crash of the waves against the cliffs. Night creatures were stirring, insects singing. In the distance a wolf howled, a lonely, eerie sound. Another wolf answered it, strangely intimate in the gathering darkness. A wildness. It spread from the forest to catch them in its thrall.
Giovanni whispered something she couldn't understand, his hands finding her blouse and pulling it from her body, allowing the material to flutter to the bushes. His hands cupped lush flesh as he bent his head to the hollow of her shoulder. There was something very erotic about standing nearly naked in the night, her body leaning into his, her breasts held possessively right out under the gathering stars. Nicoletta's breath caught in her throat. It was shocking how erotic she felt, how sinfully excited. She was fairly certain this was one of those things good girls didn't do.
But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way her breasts swelled into aching flesh at his touch. She wanted more. She wanted to know all the ways to please him, to make him need her the way she needed him. The ache started deep inside, spreading, blossoming into a firestorm as it raced through her bloodstream. His mouth was hot, dancing tongues of flame moving over her bare skin.
Nicoletta held him to her, closing her eyes to give herself up to the pure pleasure his hands and mouth created. His teeth tugged gently at her ear. "I want you to take off your skirt, cara" he whispered. His hands dropped from her breasts so that he could turn her around to face him and drink in her beauty.
His gaze was hot as it traveled over her. Nicoletta stood staring up at him, her dark eyes enormous in the moonlight. He could read both the shyness and the wanting. "I want to see how beautiful you are," he encouraged.
She reached up slowly and loosened the knot in her long hair, allowing the silken skeins to cascade in waves to her waist. The action lifted her breasts, and the silvery moonlight cast loving shadows on her body, so that he could barely breathe at the sight of her. She smiled then, watching his reaction.
Nicoletta moved a few steps from him, just out of arm's reach, and, still watching him, she slipped off her skirt. She heard his gasp, an explosion of breath as it left his lungs. She lifted her arms toward the moon in a kind of homage, so that her skin gleamed invitingly in the muted light, and her hair caressed her body like fingers. "Is this what you want, husband? I wish to learn to please you."
The silence stretched taut as he watched her, his gaze hot. Giovanni removed his boots slowly as she stood naked, waiting before him. "Come here to me," he ordered, his voice husky. "I want you to remove my clothing. That would please me, Nicoletta. I want to watch you, see you tremble, know you want me the way I want you."
She was trembling, shocked at her own daring, shocked at the dark intensity in his eyes. He stared at her with a fierce possessiveness she had never seen. It was frightening yet exhilarating. Obediently she stepped forward, the breeze tugging at her hair so that one moment it covered her breasts, leaving only her nipples peeking through, the next revealing her body to his inspection.
Her fingers shook as she removed his shirt. He didn't help her, his hot gaze never leaving her body. She felt him tremble when she began to unfasten his breeches, her fingers brushing his swollen flesh. Nicoletta found courage in his reaction. He was thick and hard, so utterly different from a woman. She looked up at him, not knowing what to do next.
"Touch me, Nicoletta. Show me you want me, too." His voice was more hoarse than she had ever heard it, his body so hot she could feel the heat right through her. "You need to know my body the way I know yours."
She slid her hand down his chest with deliberate slowness, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles. Bending forward, she kissed those muscles, her hair spilling around him, brushing his skin so that he gasped again. His hands caught her upper arms. Nicoletta smiled at the strength in his grip, at the knowledge that she could bring such a strong, powerful man to the same trembling need she felt. Her body was on fire, moist and hot and aching. She wanted his hands exploring her, his mouth moving over her.
Exactly what he wanted. She caressed the length of him, exploring, shaping, using her hand like a sheath and watching his reaction. He hardened more, thickened, his hips thrusting into her palm. Her fingers danced and teased, and she watched him closely while her own body grew hotter and tighter. "Tell me," she whispered softly, a siren of temptation, "is this what you like?"
She looked wild in the darkness, and he felt the same wildness growing in him. "Use your mouth. I want to feel your mouth on
me again, hot and moist like the inside of your body," he instructed softly.
Her hands moved over his hips, and she bent her head to kiss his flat belly, to find the ridge of his hipbone and to place a kiss there. At once she felt the difference in him, as he stiffened in anticipation. Her tongue tasted him tentatively. She heard the breath leave his body, felt him shiver. His reaction made her bolder. It took a few moments to get it right, but Giovanni allowed her to experiment on her own. She knew she was there when a growl escaped from deep within his throat, when his hands tightened into bands, when his hips thrust forward. His fingers left her arms and bunched in her hair.
"Nicoletta!" He called her name between his teeth, a groan of pleasure, of stark desire. His hands caught her, nearly yanking her up to him, then urging her to lift her head so he could find her mouth blindly, instinctively with his. He welded them together, his hands dragging her so close that she could feel the imprint of his every muscle in her soft skin.
Nicoletta gave herself up to his hot, seeking mouth. His hands were possessive as they moved over her body, everywhere, finding her curves, the hollows, the secret shadows. She immersed herself in him willingly, tasting his need like a living thing, He craved her, craved her, and Nicoletta lost herself in his strong body.
Flames were licking at her. Deep within her was a volcano of hot, molten lava spreading out of control. She whispered to him, wanting his body buried deep within hers. "Giovanni." A soft whisper of temptation. A plea. An ache.
He caught her hands and placed them on a fallen log, bending her body so that she was stretched out before him, her skin gleaming in the silvery moonlight, her rounded bottom a blatant invitation. He pressed against her, his hands biting into her hips. Nicoletta gasped at how thick and large he felt. Giovanni whispered to her, his hands caressing her hips, her derriere. He pressed his palm between her thighs to feel her hot and moist and ready. He inserted a finger into her, testing her reaction, and felt her muscles clench around him.
"You are ready for me, cara" he said softly, pressing into her feminine entrance.
Nicoletta cried out at his invasion. He moved slowly, inch by inch, savoring the feeling of her tight muscles, velvet-soft, fiery hot, tightening around him. He watched the beauty of their bodies coming together. His hands once more found her hips so he could pull her tightly into him as he surged forward, burying himself deep, gliding in and out with the wind blowing her hair back against him like so much silk.
"Dio, Nicoletta, you are hot and perfect," he gasped, riding her hard, pushing strongly into her so that she had to push back just as hard to keep from being swept away.
As the firestorm swept through their bodies, the wind touched their skin with cooling fingers, teasing and inciting, so that Nicoletta never wanted the moment to end. He was taking her soaring through the sky, locking them together with such passion, such force, she felt tears of joy in her eyes. She felt her body tightening, like a spiral winding ever tighter, the friction causing flames to dance in her bloodstream. He was thick with need, savage in his possession, tender in his touch. Her body was welded to his by the fire, belonging, aching.
She closed her eyes, gave herself up completely, and exploded, hearing him roar with his own release, so that they were shattering together, flying high. Her body continued to grip and tease his, and he shuddered with passion, holding her tightly against him for a long time while their hearts pounded frantically and their legs turned to gelatin. His arms slowly slipped around her waist to hold her up, his body slowly, reluctantly sliding away from hers.
Giovanni turned her around to hold her to his chest, his body now a haven for her. Nicoletta wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him, unable to comprehend the magnificence of the way they had joined together. His hands shaped her back, moving slowly over the long curve to her spine. He buried his face in her wealth of long hair. "I love the way you respond to me," he said.
"The way your body grows hot, letting me know you need me every bit as much as I need you." He kissed the top of her head. "I love the way that you trust me when I have not earned it. When I have placed you directly in the path of danger. When I gave you no choice, you still are willing to give yourself to me. Thank you, Nicoletta, for being willing to take a chance with me." He sounded very humble.
She could feel that curious melting sensation in the region of her heart. Her hair fluttered around them like a silken cape, enveloping them both.
"Did you know, Nicoletta," he murmured softly, "that I often dreamed of you even before I met you? I lay night after night in a sweat-soaked bed, needing to bury my body in the softness of yours. Needing to see your smile and hear the sound of your voice. I dreamed of you every night and never once conceived that you could be real." He caught her chin in his hands, tipping her face up toward his, his hands gentle. "Angela into, amore mia."
The moon tried valiantly to shine through the layers of mist, casting an eerie glow in the swaying trees. Nicoletta smiled up at him, at the dark intensity of his gaze as he studied her. "You have a bruise on your face," he observed tenderly, "and more on your neck." He leaned forward to brush her soft skin with his teasing, moist tongue to ease the discomfort of her bruises. "It pains me to see you injured."
Her heart jumped, and heat pooled inside her, just that fast. "Do I feel real to you when you touch me?" Nicoletta asked softly, tipping her head back farther to allow him to reach the worst marks on her throat. "Because sometimes when you touch me, I feel lost in a dream of pleasure and passion, and I am not certain you are real."
"I am very real, piccola, and I am falling in love with you. You cast a spell over me, a wonderful enchantment, so the sun shines for me only when you are near." He kissed her throat, the dark smudges, the evidence of danger. His mouth wandered lower, drifting over her satin skin as if he could never get enough of her. He found her breast, teased her nipple, his teeth gentle, his tongue swirling lazily.
Nicoletta cradled his head to her, allowing the delicious heat to spread slowly through her body, savoring the way she coiled tighter and tighter. "Tell me of your famiglia, Giovanni, your parents, your grandparents, you all live in the shadow of a such a foul curse."
Giovanni sighed, reluctantly lifting his head away from the temptation of her body. His voice was a soft mixture of regret and sorrow. "What can I tell you of my famiglia? My nonno loved his wife as no other. They were always together, always smiling at one another from across the room. She was a gentle and caring woman. Everyone loved her--how could we not? She raised Antonello and me. She tried to raise Vincente, although mio padre kept Vincente close to him."
"You never mention your madre, Giovanni. Why is that?" A sudden draft caused her to shiver. A shadow passed across the moon.
At once Giovanni dragged her closer, enclosing her in his arms, his body sheltering hers from the wind. "Most of my memories of her are of her moving through the palazzo, smiling. She would nod to us occasionally, but she never talked to us. I do not remember her holding any of us, not even Vincente. Mio padre was always with her. He never took his eyes off her. He was so jealous of anyone who was near her, even us." He buried his face in her silky hair as if the memories he was conjuring up were too painful to bear.
There was such despair in his voice, Nicoletta circled his neck with her arm, pressing her breasts against his chest, wanting to comfort him. "What happened to her?" She wasn't certain she really wanted to know. There was a stillness, a quiet shadow in her that heralded trouble.
"She... disappeared. We were mere boys. I will never forget that day, not as long as I live." Giovanni stepped away from her, his arms dropping to his sides. Nicoletta's heart went out to him. He looked all at once vulnerable. He walked away from her, staring at the swirling mists, uncaring of his nakedness. Nicoletta realized that no one ever talked about Giovanni's parents. His father had been the don for only three short years, and no one spoke of him. Not even Maria Pia ever talked of the man. Nicoletta didn't even know how he had died,
leaving the Scarletti legacy to his eldest son, Giovanni.
"I saw her with one of the soldiers. It was not the first time. They would go up to the tower. Only this time mio padre followed her. I was on the ramparts. I saw Father going up the stairs to the tower. I called out to him, trying to warn my mother of his presence, but the wind was strong and carried my voice away from the palazzo. It was the first time in my life I was truly afraid. There was something in the way Padre was climbing those stairs. I cannot explain it, but he did not look right. I remember I reached out in our special way to Antonello, thinking childishly that the two of us might be able to prevent the inevitable."
A terrible sadness pressed on him, and Nicoletta felt the weight of the child's burden, a boy unable to save his mother from the wrath of his father. At once she went to him, putting her arms around him, pressing her face against his broad back.
Giovanni immediately responded, holding her hands against his flat belly. "Mio padre had many other women. We all knew. She knew. But it did not stop him from his rage. The wind could not carry her screams away fast enough. I saw the body of the soldier afterward, and I never understood how one man could hate another so much as to do the things to him that had been done." He inhaled sharply and spun around to face her, his eyes so black with intensity, she felt terror lodging deep within her heart. "He did these things in front of her. Made her watch. I do not know what he did to her, but he kept her alive for a long time, many months. Yet we never saw her again, and one day he simply announced she was dead.
"Do you understand now the terrible legacy of violence and jealousy that has passed to the three of us? Antonello and I each swore we would never take a bride." His fingers dug into her arms. "I know I had no right to take such a chance with your life, tangling you in the web of violence and death that is my legacy. I want you to know I did try to fight it, but once you touched me and I felt your healing warmth, it was the first time in my life I felt I was home. I belonged." His hands framed her face. "I did not have the strength to give you up. When a man wants something, needs something, he can rationalize anything." He looked dark and intense there in the night. "And I wanted you, very badly. I looked at you and knew I would have peace with you. You would give me peace."