The Wind Dancer

  Sanchia lifted her arms over her head, the bells on her wrists jingling. She found herself laughing aloud with the same excitement as Bianca. No, it was not the same. Her excitement was not only with the dance but with the way Lion was looking at her, the way the blood was pounding in her veins, the feel of fabric touching her flesh as she twisted and turned and stamped and whirled. The torches on the walls blurred into blue-orange flame before her eyes, and the bells and the tambourines rang and echoed not only in her ears but in her heart and her body.

  The excitement was growing as they all joined hands and circled faster and faster and then broke and whirled by themselves again. The laughter bubbled up in her throat, and she felt almost too breathless to release it. The men and women in the hall were only streaks of violet, crimson, blue, and gold.

  A hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the whirling throng and behind a stone pillar.

  "What..." She gazed up dizzily to see Lion's face above her. "No, I want--"

  His lips were on hers, parting them with his tongue, plunging deep inside with a low groan. His powerful body pressed her back against the pillar and she could feel the tension of his muscles, his arousal rampant. He lifted his head. "This is what you want." He rubbed yearningly against her. "Isn't it, Sanchia?"

  She clutched desperately at his shoulders as a wave of heat surged through her. She couldn't think. The bells, the tambourines, the music, the blood singing through her veins were all too loud. "No, someone will see... "

  "They're all dancing." His lips pressed quick, hard kisses on her temples and cheeks. "No one can see us here. Open your mouth." She didn't realize she had obeyed him until his tongue filled her mouth, toying wildly with her tongue. "I wanted to do this at the table," he muttered. "This is how I wanted to feed you."

  She tried to stifle the moan trembling in her throat but he heard and lifted his head. "Come with me. You need me. I'll give you what we need." He was already pulling her toward the door.

  She shouldn't go. But she found herself stumbling after him and could think of only one protest. "They'll miss us."

  "The moresca goes on forever, you know that." They were out in the corridor and he was urging her up the stairs. "And what if they do miss us? They've suspected Marco of being Bianca's lover for years. They'll think it only natural that I take my pleasure." He lifted her in his arms as he started up the steps. "It is natural, Sanchia. Natural and beautiful and right. Don't you know that?"

  She didn't know anything anymore. Her mind was whirling as if she were still dancing, and her heart was slamming against her ribs until she thought it would burst. She should resist Lion and this lust cascading through her. It was madness to lie pliant and helpless in his arms.

  But she wasn't helpless. She could fight him if she chose.

  Yet she knew with a sudden despair that she wouldn't fight him. Not tonight.

  She murmured his name and closed her eyes as she buried her face against the black velvet of his jerkin.

  Chapter Fifteen.

  You appear to be looking for someone, my lady. May I be of some small service?"

  Caterina whirled to face Lorenzo. "You know very well who I'm looking for, you demon from hell. Where are they?"

  "Lion and Sanchia? I have no idea. How many hundreds of chambers does this huge castle contain? However, wherever they are I'm sure they're in no danger of being disturbed. Lion is your son and would have provided against that possibility."

  Caterina's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You saw them leave the hall?"

  Lorenzo nodded. "I spared a glance or two for them when I wasn't looking at you. By the way, you do dance the moresca splendidly. Your vigor gave the steps a certain glorious--"

  "I should not have danced at all. I should have been more watchful. I saw what was going on between them earlier this evening."

  "Do you really think you could have stopped Lion? You were fortunate he didn't act sooner. We both know it was only a question of time until he broke free of the chains you wound around him." He smiled faintly. "No, you should have done exactly what you did do tonight: smiled and danced and made us all happy to see your joy."

  She gazed at him, startled. "Happy?"

  He looked surprised himself. "Did I say that? How very common of me." He thought about it. "But perhaps it comes closest to what I was feeling as I watched you."

  She frowned suspiciously. "Do you seek to distract me?"

  "Have I ever lied to you?"

  "No," she said slowly. "Never."

  "Nor shall I ever." He turned. "And now I'm going for a walk in your lovely garden. Would you like to follow me or do you intend to tear through the castle, searching chamber to chamber for your missing offspring? It would do no good and make you look exceedingly undignified."

  She hesitated, glancing around the crowded room.

  "They will not miss you as long as the wine is flowing and the musicians play." He added softly, "And I will miss you if you don't join me, Caterina."

  He turned, walked away from her and was soon lost to view in the throng.

  Caterina stood very still. The hall was suddenly too hot, the music too loud, the company far too boring to tolerate.

  He would miss her if she did not come to him. Lorenzo had never before indicated her company was important enough to him to miss.

  She started slowly across the hall, nodding and smiling as she skirted the dancers on her way to the garden where Lorenzo waited.

  Lion set Sanchia down before turning and slamming the chamber door. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he leaned back against the door. "Dio, I think my heart may burst. You're heavier than you look."

  She gazed at him in astonishment and then burst into laughter. Those blunt, unvarnished words were so typical of Lion. "You didn't have to carry me up those thousands of stairs. We must be at the very top of the castle."

  "We are." He turned and shot the bolt. "This is the tower where we keep the Wind Dancer." He turned to face her. "And I was afraid if I made you walk up all those stairs you might change your mind." He crossed to the stone fireplace and knelt to light the logs laid in readiness. "You're already having second thoughts, aren't you?"

  The wood caught, flared, revealing the broad, strong planes of his cheekbones, the glittering darkness of his eyes as he turned to look at her. She drew a deep breath. "I don't think I had a first thought. I wasn't thinking at all."

  "That was my intention." He stood up and came toward her. "And I shall endeavor to make sure you remain in that state."

  She took a hurried step back. "Lion, this is not--"

  "It is." His hands cupped her cheeks and he tilted her face up to look into her eyes. "Trust me, cara."

  She could see in his eyes twin flames reflected from the fire. She felt helpless in her fascination.

  "Is it so difficult to trust me?"

  "Yes. I... I think I've had too much wine."

  "You're not drunk." His lips feathered her temple. "In vino veritas."

  But was that the truth? There was only chaos in what she was feeling. She was hot, tingling, as dizzy as when she was dancing the moresca.

  "I like your gown. I knew you'd look wonderful in that color." He pushed her away from him and took a step back. "Jade queen, shall we start our play?"

  "But you always win."

  "Not this time." He took off his black velvet jerkin and threw it aside. "This time we both win. Do you remember when I had you undress for me in the barn?"

  She felt a tightening in her chest. "Yes."

  "You were frightened." He took off his fine white linen shirt and dropped it on top of the jerkin. He stood before her in only steel gray hose and calf-length black boots whose soft leather molded his legs with the same delineation as the hose. "I wanted you to be frightened. I wanted you to be so afraid that you'd never forget you belonged to me."

  The dark hair thatching his chest looked soft and springy and she felt a tingling in her hands. She
wanted to touch him, run her fingers through that curly mat, explore the powerful muscles cording his chest and shoulders.

  He took off his boots and began to untie the points of his hose. "You don't look frightened now."

  But she was frightened. More frightened than she had been in the barn when she had acted on his command. Because she suddenly knew he wouldn't command her now. What she did would be by her own will.

  The steel gray hose were gone now and he was naked. "Come to me, cara."

  She couldn't move. Her gaze traveled down his chest to the tightness of his muscular belly. Then down...

  "You can't be shy." Lion stood with his legs apart, blatantly aroused, the essence of bold masculinity. "Attack, Sanchia, I stand defenseless."

  "But not weaponless," she murmured, her gaze fixed on him in total absorption.

  "Then let me sheath my weapon." His eyes were suddenly glinting with humor. "You have the means. Do I have to come to you?" He held out his hand. "Cara?"

  She took one step forward, then another, and suddenly she was directly in front of him.

  He took her right hand and raised it slowly to his lips. He kissed her palm lingeringly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Square one, jade queen. Not so hard, was it?" He moved her hand to his chest and she felt the pounding of his heart beneath her palm.

  "I belong to you." He said softly. "Say it."

  Her eyes widened. "What?"

  "It's true, you know. I belong to you, just as you belong to me. Say it."

  "You... belong to me."

  "Forever."

  Stunned, she gazed speechlessly at him.

  He pressed her palm harder against his chest. The beating of his heart seemed in some mysterious fashion to beat within her. "Forever, Sanchia."

  "It cannot be."

  "We will talk of it later." He slid her hand slowly down his body to clasp it around his manhood. He held it there as a shudder racked through him. "Dear God, I can't wait any longer. Will you take me into you?"

  His face was drawn as if in pain, and she felt a sudden surge of tenderness that swept away her last reservations. Why was she hesitating when she had known when she left the hall she would not be able to stop herself from yielding? "I think I... must."

  "Thank the saints." He took her hand from him and stepped forward, his hands on her gown. He stopped. "Remove it quickly or I swear I'll have to push up your skirts and take you as I did on that pile of hay in the barn. Cristo, what I'd give for a bed at this moment."

  There was no furniture at all in the chamber, she realized as she glanced around dazedly, only a rug thrown down before the hearth.

  "Hurry, I cannot wait long and my hands are shaking so that I can do nothing but fumble."

  Her hands were trembling, too, but she managed to strip off the gown and undershift. She was reaching down to take off her slippers when she felt his hands on her waist lifting her. "Clasp me," he muttered. "Your legs... "

  Her limbs encircled his hips and he was pressing against her, into her, with frantic urgency. He sank home.

  Her neck arched back as she gave a low cry. Ridged fullness. Deep. So deep.

  His palms cupped her buttocks and held her to him, forcing her to take all of him. She heard him mutter something beneath his breath. A curse, a prayer... She could not tell which it was.

  "Hold on." His palms kneaded the rounded flesh of her buttocks as he stood still, his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring with each breath. "Tighter."

  "I cannot... " Still, she tried, and heard him groan deep in his throat as if he were in agony.

  Then he was sinking to his knees on the floor, lowering her so that her naked back rested on the rug as he plunged in and out of her body in a rhythm both primitive and forceful.

  Completion. Joining. Sanchia bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as jolt after jolt of sensation rocked through her. His hands were petting her, his fingers pressing, rotating. "Sanchia, it must... " His hips moved back and forth in a flurry of short, hard thrusts. "May I give to you? Please let... "

  He was entreating her. The knowledge filled her with wonder. He moved with raw, blind sensuality, taking, giving and yet he was pleading with her for acceptance.

  "Give... to me." Her words were little more than a whisper as her limbs tightened strongly around his hips. "Give!" She arched up helplessly as the pleasure burst through her, spasming, exploding.

  He pulled her upright on him again, crushing her close as his own pleasure peaked and then soared.

  He rocked her back and forth, breathing low, whispering love words into her ear. His lips moved yearningly across her cheek to the corner of her lips. "Sanchia, did I not tell you? We must have this. How can we live without it?"

  At the moment she didn't think she could live without it. She was part of him. He was part of her. Pleasure... possession... passion... Nothing had ever seemed more natural than having Lion within her, having his hands caressing her naked back, having his lips on her lips.

  He raised his head. "Thank you, cara." His voice was grave.

  She buried her cheek on the soft wiry mat on his chest and his fingers reached up to tangle in her hair. "Why do you not speak?"

  "I don't know what to say. I'm too full--" She broke off as she felt the reverberation of his laughter beneath her ear and she realized her unintentional play on words. "Well, that too."

  He flexed lazily within her. "If you think I'm going to leave you yet, you are very much mistaken. I've waited too long to reach this haven to withdraw until I've sated both of us." He pushed her away from him to smile down at her with surprising sweetness. "I think you'll like this game far better than chess. Shall we move to another square? There are many strategies left to test."

  "Not yet. I'm not sure how I even came to this point."

  "I am sure." His hands cupped her breasts. "And it was not the vino. I seduced you. I think I did it very well considering I've never attempted to lure a woman to my bed before. My nature is usually too rough and blunt for seduction. I would never have succeeded if you hadn't already wanted me as much as I wanted you." His hand moved down and began to stroke her belly. "Do you believe it possible I've given you a child?" He laughed softly. "Do you feel me stir? I grow ready just thinking about my child moving in you and--" He broke off as he felt her stiffening against him. "Sanchia?"

  "I didn't consider a child. I didn't... " Panic was rising within her. "How could I be so stupid?" She began to struggle but he held her immovable against him. "Let me go, Lion."

  "No." His voice was fierce. "You want to be here." His hand lay heavy on her belly and he began to rub slowly back and forth. "And you want my child in your womb. I used no force. You took my seed willingly."

  "The child would be a bastard and I a whore. I've lived only a shadow life since the moment I was born, and now you want me to live in those shadows for the rest of my life." Her hands pushed at his shoulders. "I should not have done this. I should not have let you--"

  "Do you think I would not give you marriage if I could?" His hands grasped her shoulders with bruising force. "Do you want me to murder Bianca so that I can take you as my wife?"

  Her eyes widened in horror. "No, I didn't mean--" "I cannot undo my marriage. As God is my witness, I wish I could." His eyes were fierce in his set face. "I cannot make you my wife. I can only make you my love."

  "Love?" she whispered.

  "It must be love. I told you I had feeling for you. What else could it be?"

  "You did not say you loved me."

  "The word is hard for me." His hands opened and closed on her shoulders. "I've never said it before." He burst out, "I've never felt it before. I can't say I like it. It twists my gut and makes me want to smash something."

  "It doesn't sound like love."

  The fierceness faded from his expression as he looked down at her. "It also makes me wish to... treasure you. To care for your needs and protect and defend you." He slowly lifted her off him. "And to have you feel something besides l
ust for me. I know I can rouse you to want to lie with me but--Why do you sit there and say nothing?"

  "I'm confused. I never expected you to say these words."

  "And I never expected to say them." He gazed at her directly. "You have no love for me?"

  "I don't know." She shivered. "Dio, I hope not."

  A flicker of pain crossed his face. "You are honest, at least." He shrugged. "So I must depend on lust to draw you to me. It was no more than I anticipated. Lust and perhaps my child in your body." He turned toward the fire.

  She began dressing quickly, in a fever to be gone.

  He glanced over his shoulder. "You're in a great hurry. Do you think I mean to keep you locked here in my tower room to use for my pleasure?"

  "Of course not." Her trembling fingers made a futile attempt to tidy her hair. "I've already been in one prison for your sake. You would not cast me into another." She moved toward the door.

  "Unless I cast myself into it with you."

  She undid the bolt and threw open the door. "And you would not do such a foolish thing. You love your freedom too much."

  "Sanchia."

  She stopped, not looking at him.

  "Do you believe me when I say I love you?"

  "I don't know." She turned to face him. "I have a question for you. Was it your intention to lure me here only to get me with child?"

  "What do you think?"

  "I think you capable of it."

  "You're quite right." His smile was bittersweet. "I'm capable of most acts of ruthlessness, but I thought you knew I had no liking for deception."

  She was again aware of pain beneath the toughness he wore like armor, and that perception awoke an answering hurt within herself so sharp she instinctively took a half step toward him. "I do know you're an honest man. I did not mean... " She shook her head wearily. "I spoke without thinking. I didn't believe I would be so weak as to let you couple with me again. It frightens me to realize I'm not as strong as I thought I was." She straightened and gazed intently at him. "But it will not happen again. I am on guard now."

  "It will happen again," he said quietly. "And again and again. I'll waylay you in the garden, I'll pull you into any vacant chamber that has a bed, a quilt, or a cushion on the floor. It will keep on happening until you admit you want what we're doing more than food or drink or sleep. Until you let me take you away from here to live with me."