Sarina was in Lucca’s room, fussing and clucking over him. Lucca, looking desperate, gestured to Francesca behind the housekeeper’s back, clearly expecting her to save him. Francesca and Isabella grinned at each other, the smirk of conspirators.
“Sarina,” Isabella said, using her sweetest voice. “Francesca and I have one small errand to run. Please see to mio fratello until we return.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Lucca hissed between clenched teeth. “Neither one of you should be going anywhere unescorted.”
“We’ll be perfectly safe,” Francesca assured him with a bright smile. “We’ll keep to the passageways. Sarina will take excellent care of you in our absence.”
“Isabella, I forbid you running wild! Have you lost all sense of propriety?” Another spasm of coughing shook him.
All three women rushed to aid him, but it was Francesca he leaned against, accustomed to the firm feel of her arm around his back and the square of cloth she pressed into his hand. Weak, he bent nearly double and clutched her arm to prevent her from moving.
When the spasm had passed, Lucca looked up at Francesca. “You can see I need you here with me.”
“Just try to sleep,” she replied sweetly, patting his shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I should speak to tuo fratello,” he snapped, disgusted. “And you, Isabella, have much to answer for. Francesca has told me of your betrothal.”
Isabella laughed softly and kissed her brother on the top of his head. “It’s too late to worry about my running wild. I came to this place all by myself. I think Don DeMarco intends to speak to you about my wayward manner.”
Lucca’s dark eyes flashed, momentarily revealing his proud, arrogant nature. “If he wants to talk to me about your behavior, he might want to explain why his own sister is allowed to be unescorted in a man’s bedchamber.”
“I’d love to hear that particular discussion,” Francesca said as she took Isabella’s hand. “Pay him no attention when he’s rambling, Sarina. It’s the illness.”
Isabella and Francesca escaped into the passageway. The moment the hidden door had swung closed behind them, they burst into laughter. “He’s very demanding but so sweet, Isabella. He said he likes my hair.” Francesca patted her upswept hairdo. “I asked Sarina to dress it for me.”
The taper Francesca held was sputtering. She raised the flickering flame to a torch. Light leapt and danced as they hurried along the narrow corridor.
“Lucca isn’t normally so demanding, Francesca. I don’t know why he’s clinging to you the way he is or why he’s teasing you so much.” Isabella rubbed her temples. “I hope he won’t really talk to Nicolai. We shouldn’t let the two of them ever get together.”
Francesca looked vulnerable for a moment. “No one has ever talked to me as Lucca does. He seems so interested in my life, in my opinions. Once, when I was quoting mio fratello, he became impatient and demanded to know what I thought. Only you and tuo fratello have ever asked me what I think.”
Isabella smiled affectionately at her. She studied the young face, finding her vulnerability touching. She couldn’t imagine the beast overtaking Francesca. Or Francesca leading her to her doom off a slippery balcony, or stalking her through the city streets. She sighed softly. If Francesca hadn’t stalked her, that left Nicolai. “Lucca believes a woman should speak her mind, yet he is extremely protective. He might well speak to Don DeMarco.”
“He couldn’t sleep, and he told me the funniest stories. I love his voice. I loved his stories.” She ducked her head. “I hope you don’t mind that I told him of your betrothal. I assured him Nicolai loves you.”
“What did he say?” Isabella gripped Francesca’s arm as they began the descent to the bowels of the palazzo. Isabella hadn’t been looking forward to telling her brother, knowing he would guess how the match had come about.
Francesca looked down at her hands. “He seemed pleased. Nicolai is a good catch, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Lucca about the lions. I wanted to. I didn’t want to lie to him. When he looks at me, I want to tell him everything.” She sighed and smoothed her dress. “He says the nicest things to me.”
“I’m glad he hasn’t been too difficult with you. I owe you so much, Francesca. It must be hard for you to be indoors so much after all your freedom.” She looked at the young woman. “Your gown is beautiful. Did Lucca notice it?” It was like her brother to observe details.
“Do you like it?” Francesca asked shyly, pleased that Isabella had noticed. “Sarina is always after me to wear the gowns Nicolai has had made for me. I usually give them away to the young women who really want them. Lucca thought it becoming.” She shook her head. “Lucca knows something is wrong. He keeps asking me. I told him he was to sleep, but he wanted to know why I was sad.”
“We’ll find a way to tell him the truth.”
“What truth? That I’m Nicolai’s half-mad sister who turns occasionally into a beast?” Francesca’s voice shook. “I really like him. I don’t even know why, but I don’t want him thinking ill of me.”
Isabella glanced at her. “Lucca has no reason to think ill of you.”
Francesca was no longer paying attention. Her hand gripped Isabella’s wrist. They were in a small room deep beneath the castello. It was bare, empty, a stark, almost ugly place, unlike any other room Isabella had seen.
Isabella shivered in the cold. “What is this place?”
“This is where Sophia was buried, here beneath the floor.” Francesca spoke in reverent tones, indicating the cross carved into the marble in the middle of the floor.
“But there’s nothing here,” Isabella protested. “She should have candles, something to honor her. She wasn’t guilty of the crimes they accused her of. Why isn’t anyone taking care of her resting place?”
Francesca looked astonished. “Because of her curse, of course.”
“And if the entity was already loose in the valley, preying on human weaknesses, don’t you think, in that one moment, when her friends betrayed her, when her own husband betrayed her, it would feed her natural anger?” Isabella shrugged. “I find myself thinking of her often, wishing her well. What a terrible torment she has lived through. I hope at last she is with her husband and has found some happiness.”
“They all despise her—the ‘others,’ I mean. They blame her for locking them in the valley. None of them go near her. I don’t know about her husband.”
Francesca made a soft sound of warning and turned her head to the side, her eyes closing. “She is here with us now.” She was silent a moment, listening to whispers Isabella had no hope of hearing. “She thanks you for your generosity and kind thoughts. She warns you of great danger, of betrayal.” Francesca entwined her fingers with Isabella’s as if she could somehow hold tightly to her, prevent the dire predictions, the ominous warnings. “The evil was awakened when you arrived in the valley, and you are its greatest adversary. It is preying on Nicolai.” Francesca looked stricken. “On me and all others it can use to harm you.”
“Please tell her I’m so sorry for all her pain and anguish. I hope to set her free. If I cannot, I look forward to meeting her in the afterlife.” Isabella felt her heart pound at the thought of how she would meet her death.
“She can hear you, Isabella, but she cannot aid you. Those trapped within the valley cannot give aid to the living. She says she can only remind you that she, who was strong and very much in love with her husband, fell prey to the entity. Your task is twofold. She is sorry for what she caused.” Tears filled Francesca’s eyes. “She’s weeping. Alexander, her spouse, is in eternal torment, unable to reach her, unable to be with her, nor can she reach him.”
“Nicolai is a good man, well worth saving. I’ll do my best. It’s all I can do,” Isabella said softly.
Francesca heaved a sigh of relief. “She’s gone now. I don’t feel her.” The cold had seeped into her blood. “Let’s go quickly.”
Isabella allowed Francesca to drag her back through the maze of corridors, not really paying attention to the directions they took. Sophia had warned her of the danger Isabella had known all along was there. She couldn’t abandon Nicolai and his people. She had grown to care about them. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth, she forced her mind from thoughts of Nicolai and the beast. She was determined to think of him only as a man. Someone had to see him as a man instead of a beast.
For most of his life he had been shaped by his legacy, shaped by his isolation and his people’s downcast eyes. If she gave him nothing else, she would give him the gift of his own humanity. And while he was hers, she would cherish him. She became aware of Francesca’s silence. Glancing at her, she noted the stricken look on her face.
“What is it?”
“Didn’t you hear what she said? She said the entity was preying on me. She warned you of betrayal and danger. I was the beast following you through the city. Nicolai smelled me. Isabella, what are we to do? I don’t even remember I could harm you. Nicolai could harm you.”
Isabella stopped in the passageway and hugged Francesca to her. “Sophia didn’t say you were the beast. We already knew there was a possibility of danger and betrayal. We’ll figure it out together, you and I and Nicolai. We just have to watch one another, try to be prepared for the entity when it feeds our weaknesses.”
Francesca nodded mutely, looking as though she might burst into tears. She took a deep breath and found the panel that swung the hidden door to Lucca’s bedchamber open. They extinguished the torch before entering.
But it wasn’t Sarina waiting for them. Don DeMarco was pacing, his long strides taking him back and forth across the floor in his silent, fluid manner. He swung around as they entered, his amber eyes burning with fury. He moved so fast that Isabella’s heart jumped as he shackled her wrist and, right in front of her brother, dragged her against him.
“Where have you been? Don’t you think I was worried enough about you tonight without another disappearance?”
His voice was so soft with menace, Isabella shivered. She glanced at her brother. He was watching them, speculation and knowledge in his gaze. Lucca and Nicolai both turned to Francesca at the same moment.
She lifted her chin. “My movements are of no concern to anyone. I’m certainly not used to having my activities questioned.” She tried to sound haughty, but her voice trembled a little.
“I can see I’ve been far too lenient with you, Francesca,” Nicolai answered, retaining his hold on Isabella when she would have gone to her brother’s side. “Your safety is of paramount importance. Enemies are within our valley, and we have a traitor among us. I must insist you conduct yourself properly and with circumspect behavior. I am tuo fratello and your don. You must answer to me.”
Francesca glared at Lucca. “This is your doing. You’ve said things to him.”
Lucca lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head, a satisfied expression on his face. “We’ve had a most informative talk,” he admitted without remorse.
Nicolai looked down at Isabella’s upturned face. “We need to have a most informative talk,” he said grimly, “right now, just the two of us. Say good night, Isabella.” It was an order.
Lucca bristled visibly at the proprietary tone used on his sister, but he remained silent when she brushed a kiss on the top of his head. “Good night, Lucca. I’ll see you first thing in the morn. I’m so happy you’re finally here.”
Nicolai’s fingers tightened on her wrist, tugging her away from the bed. He barely restrained himself as he escorted her to her bedchamber, using the hidden passageway so he would not have to leave her in front of the servants and return later. He was seething with anger, fear gnawing at him until he was afraid he might explode. The fire was burning brightly, and a cup of steaming tea waited on the nightstand, evidence Sarina had prepared the room. Nicolai stalked to the door, ensuring it was locked, before turning to face her.
Isabella tilted her chin. “Am I to report my every movement to you?”
He let his breath out in a single rush. “Absolutely you are. You have no idea what you mean to me, what I’ve discovered myself capable of. Dio, Isabella, all this time I’ve wasted worrying about what I might do years from now. I should have been getting as close to you as possible. Binding you to me in every conceivable way so that there’s no doubt between us.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Doubt, Nicolai? What is it you find yourself doubting? Surely not my fidelity?”
He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it wild and rakish. “I have heard several…unpleasant whispers.”
She stared up at him, her entire body stiff with outrage. “And do you, even for one moment, believe those unpleasant whispers?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer, needing it to be the right one. Everything she was, her heart and soul, was her word of honor. If Nicolai doubted that, he knew nothing of her.
A slow smile softened the hard line of his mouth. “You look at me with such trust, such belief that I’ll say and do the right thing. I fear for you, Isabella. I fear that everywhere you go eyes watch you with petty jealousy, and that already the curse is bringing about its finale. There is more at work here than my controlling or not controlling the beast. You said it yourself. I trust no one with you.” He crossed to her side and reached to pull the pins from her hair. He watched it cascade like a silken waterfall, thick and luxurious, below her waist.
“Francesca loves you, Nicolai. She won’t betray you.”
“I never doubted that mio padre loved mia madre, Isabella, but in the end he betrayed her.” He bent his head to her mouth, needing to taste her, needing to shelter her close to his heart. Her lips were warm, melting beneath his. Her body came into his, soft and pliant, molding to his harder, more muscular frame.
Isabella lifted her head to look into his strange, amber eyes. “Maybe she betrayed him, Nicolai. Not with her body, but with her mind. Maybe she didn’t love what he was.”
“A beast acts on instinct, Isabella, not reason,” he cautioned. “How could a woman ever love that part of him?”
“Sometimes, Nicolai, a woman acts on instincts, too. If the beast resides in you, then it is a part of you. A woman doesn’t pick and choose what she loves in a man. She loves all of him.”
His hands framed her face. “Do you love all of me, cara, even my wild side?” His voice was a low caress, playing over her skin like the touch of his fingers. Butterfly wings brushed along her insides.
“I love every part of you,” she whispered softly. “Your voice, the way you laugh, how gentle you can be. I love the way you love your people, the way you’ve dedicated your life to them.”
“And my wild side, beautiful one—do you love that part of me?”
“Most particularly, signore,” she agreed.
His thumbs trailed down her neck, her throat, slipping along the neckline of her gown. Isabella shivered as the pads of his thumbs rubbed her exposed skin.
His gaze was moody, brooding, a dark quagmire of love and despair. He wanted her; desire burned fiercely in him. He had lived with the results of his legacy; Isabella had not. Still, she believed she saw matters more clearly.
“Are you correct, amore mia? Do I place my entire faith in you and trust that you are capable of securing our future for us? There is no giving you up, no turning back, as much as I have tried to pretend that we could. Keeping you as my mistress would change nothing.”
She shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t.” Her voice was a shivery whisper. His fingers were loosening her gown, allowing it to gape open, spilling her breasts into the shadows of flickering firelight. The light and dark seemed to caress her curves, and the brush of his fingertips over her flesh sent heat curling deep in her very core. “What other choice do we have but to live our lives, Nicolai?”
His hands framed her face again, his amber eyes alive with love, with tenderness. “I want to make a vow to you. I’ll love you with everything in me. I’ll bring you as much happiness as I can give you. But I cannot allow your death, not at my hands. You’re more important than I am.” His mouth found each of her eyelids, then drifted down her cheek to the corner of her lips. “Don’t protest. Just listen to me. I’ve thought about this for a long time. Your life is in danger. You’ve accepted that, and you’re willing to chance our love. But I couldn’t live with your death at my hands. I can’t, Isabella.” He kissed her mouth, her soft, pliant lips, drawing strength from her, her endless courage becoming his.
When he lifted his head, his amber gaze drifted over her face. “After our child is born, an heir for our people, when I see the beast grow stronger I’ll end my life.”
She cried out, a shocked protest, but his arms tightened around her, crushing her against him, crushing her objections. “I’m placing my trust and faith in you, all of it, that your way is the right path for us, but you have to allow me this way out. You have to promise, give your word of honor, that you will raise our children to love this valley, the lions, their legacy. I won’t have regrets, Isabella. Your life, our lives together, are worth it.”
She slid her arms around his waist, afraid to speak, afraid of saying the wrong thing. What could she say? She heard the finality in his voice. She had to guide them through the dark passages and into the light. There had to be a way. She was certain the key lay within her. And she refused to lose him.
“I’ve been so alone, apart from life, not really knowing why I was so empty. You’ve filled all those empty places, cara mia. I sleep with you in my arms and have no nightmares. I open my eyes and look forward to each hour, to hear your laughter, to watch you move through my home. Your smile takes my breath away.”
She looked up at him, love shining in her eyes, complete acceptance. Nicolai kissed her again, allowing the fever to rise, allowing his possessive, passionate nature to the forefront.
He wanted to look at her there with the firelight caressing her body. His hands made short work of her gown, leaving it lying in a frothy pool on the floor. He wanted nothing in his way, not the thinnest barrier. When she was naked, only the fall of her hair to tease him, he moved to stand some distance away from her.
Isabella stood in front of the fireplace, her hair shining with blue lights. The shadows caressed her breasts, her belly, her legs. She watched his expression, saw the blossoming lust mixed with his love. She saw his breeches grow snug, taut, the material stretching to accommodate him. It was exciting to be entirely naked before him while he was fully clothed. Her nipples were hard peaks of desire, and her body ached with a curling heat she recognized.
Nicolai walked around her, not touching her, simply looking, drinking her in, devouring her with his hot gaze. He gestured to the bed as he crossed to the bottle of wine sitting on her nightstand. “Go lie down.” His voice was husky, a testament to his arousal. He poured himself a glass of wine and sat in the chair beside the fire.
Isabella walked across the room, aware his eyes tracked her, aware of the sway of her hips, her breasts. She lay back, feeling more sensuous than she ever had in her life. He hadn’t touched her, yet every part of her body was alive and pulsing with need.
“Bend your knees and spread your thighs wide so I can see you, Isabella.”
She watched his face, the hunger etched there so deeply. She was bringing him pleasure, and it was as arousing to her as it was to him. Slowly she obeyed him, allowing the flickering light to shine between her legs, revealing the glistening invitation.
Nicolai took a slow sip of wine, allowing it to trickle down his throat. She was so beautiful, so everything to him. “Feel your breasts, Isabella. I want you to know your body the way I know it. How perfect it is. Slide your hand down your belly and push your fingers deep inside yourself.”
He expected a shy protest, but Isabella had courage, and she wanted his pleasure as much as her own. She cupped the weight of her breasts in her palms, her thumbs sliding over her nipples. Her breath caught in her throat.
Nicolai’s breath caught in his. His body tightened to the point of pain. His gaze was riveted to her hands, to the beauty of her full, firm breasts spilling out of her palms. He watched as her fingers slid slowly over her curves, caressing her belly, the curve of her hip, then tangled in the tight curls of her mound. His lungs nearly exploded as her fingers disappeared inside her body, as his had often done.
Her face was turned toward his, flushed with passion, pleasure heightening her beauty. He watched her until her breath was coming in short gasps and her body was quivering, until he could no longer stand to be apart from her. He stood up, set his wineglass down, and began to remove his clothing.
Isabella lay back and watched him. He looked like a magnificent god, with the firelight stroking the hard angles and planes of his body, with his erection thrusting large and insistent toward her. Nicolai reached out, caught her wrist, and sucked her fingers into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth. Her entire body clenched.
“Nicolai,” she said softly, almost reverently.
He knelt on the bed between her open legs. “There is no other like you, Isabella.” He meant it, too. His head was roaring, his mind numb with need. His body was a fierce ache that felt as if it could never be assuaged. He was enormous, thick and hard and throbbing with urgency. He caught her hips and thrust hard, burying himself deeply with one desperate stroke. It was the most important thing in his world to take her, possess her, to love her to distraction.
As he pumped his hips hard, guiding her hips with his hands, he watched her face, watched the play of the flickering firelight on her breasts. He watched their bodies come together in perfect accord. Her sheath was hot and tight and fit him as though she’d been made for him. She tilted her hips to take all of him, greedy for every inch, unashamed to show she wanted him the way he wanted her.
He pounded into her, deep and hot, taking her higher and higher. He felt her body tighten, ripple, clench around his. She cried out, her fingers digging into his arms as she went over the edge. Nicolai kept his gaze glued to hers, woman to man, man to woman, even though his body was primitive with a lusting he’d never experienced. He thrust hard, stroke after stroke, keeping her pleasure so heightened that she was in tears, crying his name, pleading with him.
When his release came, he poured into her, emptying himself completely. He slumped over her, kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples into his mouth so that her body continued to clench and spiral out of control. They lay together, hearts pounding, breathing hard.
When he found he could move, he rolled to one side, easing his weight from hers, pulling her onto her stomach. Nicolai trailed his fingertips down the curve of her back. “Do you know what’s so beautiful to me? I think of you all the time, the way you are, like this. So willing to let me love you any way I wish. Your trust in me when I have you all to myself.”
“You always bring me such pleasure, Nicolai,” she said softly. His hands were kneading her buttocks, her thighs, caressing the small of her back. She loved every new lesson he brought to their bedchamber. She felt lazy and content, as sated as she could possibly be, yet when he bent his head to kiss the side of her breast, his hair spilling across her body, she shivered in reaction.
He heard the drowsy note in her voice. It teased his senses, heightened his pleasure even more. She was nearly purring with contentment. Nicolai settled close to her, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb sliding over her nipple. “Sleep, amore mia, for now. You’ll need to rest. I’m not finished this night.” And he knew he wasn’t. Her body was warm and soft. Her trust in him, her acceptance of him, her complete giving of herself into his hands, was becoming as necessary to him as breathing.
Isabella drifted to sleep with a smile curving her mouth. She awakened twice during the night to his lips moving erotically over her body, his hands exploring, memorizing her intimately, his body taking hers. No matter how he possessed her, fast and hard or slow and tender, he ensured she found that ultimate rush of pleasure and then he would kiss her back to sleep.
Her body was deliciously sore when she awoke in the early-morning hours. She felt well used, happy. Nicolai had crept out, not disturbing her, and the first rays of light were just beginning to slip through the colors of her window. Isabella took her time dressing, often touching the pillow where his head had rested. Their bodies had remained tangled together throughout the night. She knew it was right, meant to be. She belonged with Nicolai. They shared something deep and intimate and well worth fighting for.
She relieved Francesca, who looked very tired, having spent the night trying to entertain Lucca. He had been restless, coughing, sometimes out of his head with fever, other times teasing her and telling her stories. Isabella watched Francesca tuck the covers around her brother before slipping out to get much-needed rest. Isabella settled down to her sewing. Her tea and breakfast were served to her in her brother’s room, and the morning passed quietly until Lucca woke.
He smiled at her, his dark eyes alive with love. “You did it, Isabella. You saved my life. A miracle. But have I tied you to a monster? What is he like, this don who has claimed my sister?”
She blushed, feeling the color climbing up her neck. “You’ve met him. He’s wonderful.” When he continued to stare at her steadily, she sighed. She had never been able to lie to him. “The stories are true, Lucca. Of the legend, the lions, the man. It’s all true. But I love him and want to be with him. He tries to protect me, but in truth, we haven’t discovered how to defeat the curse.” She blurted it all out to him, every last detail, other than the fact that she had already lain with the don.
He rubbed his temples, his dark eyes reflecting his inner turmoil. Lucca never wasted time on regrets, on circumstances one couldn’t change. “If I can arrange your escape, would you leave?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
“I was afraid you would say that.” Admiration crept into his gaze. “Then I guess I have no choice but to get well and guard your back. What of Francesca? I can’t imagine her slinking around trying to murder you. She has shown me every kindness.”
Isabella looked at him sharply. There was a note in his voice she had never heard before. “She is a remarkable woman, different, with extraordinary gifts. You be nice to her, Lucca. I see that teasing light in your eyes when she’s around.”
He grinned, unrepentant. “She rises so beautifully to the bait, how can I resist?” His smile faded. “Go carefully, Isabella, until I’m stronger and can aid you. If we think this through together, we should be able to find a way out of it.”
“I won’t leave him,” she declared staunchly.
Francesca entered with the briefest of knocks. “How are you this morn, Lucca? I awoke and thought I’d come sit with you if you want the company. Isabella, do you have things you wish to be doing?”
Isabella saw the quick, welcoming smile on her brother’s face for the don’s sister. She stood up with a small sigh. Lucca had no land, nothing to offer should he decide he wanted Francesca, and she carried the DeMarco legacy in her blood. “Grazie, Francesca.” She kissed the top of her brother’s head. “I think he’s feeling better, so watch out for his teasing.” Brushing back his hair, she smiled at Lucca. “You behave.”
Lucca flashed a smirk at her, warming her heart. He was becoming more like his old self every hour.
Isabella made her way through the castello, aware of the two shadows, the guards Nicolai had ordered to watch over her. She ignored their presence, heading toward the library, her one sanctuary. She was turning over the matter of Francesca and Lucca in her mind. Deep in thought, it took her a while to become aware that the servants she passed were whispering together in groups. Their voices were hushed and agitated.
She stopped in the middle of the great hall, suddenly afraid the battle with Don Rivellio might have started. Surely Nicolai would have told her, although he had left her bed in the early-morning hours. Worried, she turned toward the nearest group of servants, determined to find out what had made them nervous.
The whispers stopped the moment Isabella approached, the servants suddenly extraordinarily busy. Even Alberita was dutifully scrubbing at an imaginary speck on the gleaming table in the formal dining room. She kept casting surreptitious glances toward Isabella and then hastily looking away.
Annoyed, Isabella went in search of Betto. He was talking softly with two other men near one of the entrances to the servants’ passage. They stopped speaking and looked at the floor the moment they spotted her.
“Betto,” she said, “I must speak with you.”
He didn’t look happy but obediently took his leave from his companions, who hastily escaped. “What is it, signorina?”
“Exactly the question. What is it? The palazzo is a hotbed of gossip. I’ve been caring for mio fratello and have not heard it, but it obviously concerns me.”
The man cleared his throat. “I can’t possibly know what the servants are gossiping about now.”
Her gaze pinned him. “It’s better I hear it from you, Betto. If it is something upsetting, I prefer to hear the news from a trusted friend.”
His shoulders sagged. “Better you hear it from Don DeMarco. He has said if you inquire, I’m to bring you to him.”
She stared at the servant for a long time, so many thoughts racing through her mind she was afraid to move or speak. Surely Nicolai hadn’t sent for another bride. Rivellio’s men were in the valley. Nicolai would never betray her in a power play. She knew he was busy with his captains, preparing for battle. Why would he have her brought to him simply to repeat gossip?
She followed Betto slowly up the sweeping staircases to the wing of the don. At his gruff command, she entered his rooms with trepidation. At once his captains excused themselves. Isabella faced Nicolai across the room.
They looked at one another for a long time. She couldn’t read his expression at all, which was faintly shocking when she had just spent the night in his arms. When his body had been buried deep inside of hers. When they had clung to one another, whispering together, sharing laughter, sharing plans. Nicolai looked almost a stranger, his amber eyes flat and hard. He didn’t approach her, didn’t smile in welcome.
“What is it, Nicolai?” Deliberately she addressed him informally, hoping to break through his icy demeanor.
“The servant, the one who locked you in the storehouse, is dead,” he said starkly, without inflection.
A shiver went down her spine. Her blood turned to ice. She kept her gaze locked with his. “How did he die, Nicolai?” Her voice betrayed her, husky with emotion.
“He was found this morning, murdered. There were signs of a struggle. Someone stabbed him numerous times.” His voice was still devoid of expression.
She waited, knowing there was more. Her heart seemed to be thundering in her ears. She couldn’t equate the gentle, loving man she had lain with to someone capable of such a brutal act. Yet Nicolai had gone into many battles, defeated many enemies, was a feared and respected don. He was capable of ordering death and just as capable of killing.
“There were paw prints all around the body in the snow, though all the lions are hidden. There were no signs of a human approaching him, only the tracks of a lion.” He didn’t take his eyes from her face, watching her with the unblinking stare of a predator focused on its prey.
“Am I to believe that you murdered this man, Nicolai? You were with me last night.” Her throat felt swollen, threatening to cut off her air.
“The blood on him was fresh. He was killed in the early-morning hours. I left you well before that time.”
Her lashes swept down to break the contact with his hawklike gaze. He missed nothing; she had no way to hide her slightest thought from him. He read her so easily. Isabella didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what he was trying to say. She lifted her chin. “I won’t believe it, Nicolai. Why would you murder him? You could have ordered his death, and no one would have blamed you.”
He did move then, turning away from her with a fluid, catlike gesture, power and coordination rippling through his body. His dark hair spilled down his back, a wild mane as untamable as the man. “I despised that man, Isabella. I wanted him dead. Not just dead, I wanted him to suffer first.” He made the admission in a low, compelling voice “I let him go because you asked it of me, not because I agreed with you. I wanted to leap on him and tear him to pieces the moment he was brought before me for what he had done to you. For the hours of fear he caused you. For the danger he put you in. For his cowardice in not returning immediately when he realized he had the key, if his story was the truth. I wanted him dead.”
“Wanting him dead doesn’t mean you killed him, Nicolai.”
He spun around to face her, looking dangerous and powerful. “I don’t care if I did kill him,” he said, the words cutting deeply into her heart. “I care that I don’t remember. I went out this morn, and I ran. I unleashed the beast to run free.”
She took a moment to compose herself. “Why would you use a knife, Nicolai? That makes no sense. If you used a knife, you would have remembered.”
He shrugged. “I remember last eve when he stood in this room and admitted he locked you in that storehouse, I wanted to shove my stiletto through his throat.” His gaze met hers without flinching. “I won’t apologize for who I am, Isabella. And I’ll never apologize for wanting to destroy any enemy who dares to try to take you from me. I’ll never apologize for my feelings for you. Not only am I willing to die for you, but I’m more than willing to kill for you. And I’m not apologizing for that either.”
“I’ve never asked you to,” she replied quietly. She was grateful for her father’s training, for the composure she managed when each of his revelations had shaken her to her core. “If you’ll excuse me, Nicolai, I must attend mio fratello.”
He padded across the floor then, his footfalls silent, his amber eyes burning. “Not yet, Isabella. Don’t leave me yet. I want to look into your eyes and see what I’ve destroyed between us.”
She titled her head, her eyes meeting his without flinching. “I don’t think you can destroy anything between us. I love you with all my heart. All my soul. Confess all you want, Nicolai, show me your worst side, I will still love you.” She reached up, caught his face in her hands, and kissed him hard. Her eyes blazed into his. “And know this, Nicolai DeMarco. Should the worst happen and the beast is let loose and destroys me, I will never regret what we share, what we are together. I love every inch of you. Even that part of you that is capable of destroying me.”
When she would have turned away from him, he tightened his hold on her and brought his head down to hers to claim her mouth. Love welled up, nearly overwhelmed him, nearly unmanned him. It swept through him with the force of an avalanche and shook him to the very center of his being.