Alessa uptilted her chin. “My mother told me to obey my husband when it suits my purpose, and to disobey him when it suites his.”
“I suppose there is logic to your mother’s wisdom. However, my beauty, I do not accept disobedience from anyone.”
His menacing approach gave Alessa reason to panic. His agreeable mood disappeared, replaced by a feral expression turning his skin a shade darker. Agata cowered to the back of the kitchen, leaving Alessa alone to face the wicked shine in Dante’s eyes.
He closed his fingers around her wrist and pulled her close. His breath, warm and pleasant, beat down on her face. His taut body worked alongside the danger lurking in his eyes.
“From now on, you will heed my commands. Should you disobey me again, Alessandra, I will tie you up and lock you in the dungeon. Trust me, my hardheaded wife, you’ll not enjoy sharing a bed with the rats who live within the dank belly of this castle.”
An eerie calm slipped into his voice. Never had she imagined Dante capable of such a dastardly plan. She knew not what to make of him at the moment. Worst of all, her need for exploration remained stronger than his threat.
“Pray I will be able to abide your commands.” She spoke softly, hoping to ease his stinging grip on her wrist. But her reply did not please him. He brought her snugly into him, molding her to the contours of his body. His manly part throbbed against her belly. Perhaps anger roused his passion.
“Sì, my sweet. Pray you will, else I may forgo the dungeon and inflict a more gratifying punishment upon you.”
She slanted her head, unsure of what he meant.
“Gratifying for me,” he clarified. “For I shall tie you naked to my bed so you will be ready for me each time I feel the need to have my way with you. Do you understand, wife?”
She didn’t think it was possible for her mouth to dry up any more than it already had, leaving her helpless to reply. Images of his erection ready to break through her virginal portal and plunder her well-protected goods contested his threat. Heat shot through her like a flaming star hurtling through the night, setting the apex of her thighs on fire.
“What ails you, woman?”
Concern replaced his fury. She simply could not tell him she suffered from the normal pangs of a woman’s desire.
Dante released her to a chair. She coaxed her short breaths into slower, longer ones, until she gained control of her breathing. She could do naught about the lasting heat at her awakened womanhood.
Agata rushed forward, fanning Alessa with her apron. Now and again she stopped to fan herself. Apparently Dante’s salacious threat affected the poor girl, for her cheeks were inflamed and she couldn’t seem to get a steady hold of her own breathing.
Dante backed away as if the two women were possessed. He disappeared through the door, then returned moments later with two middle-aged women. “Queen Isabelle has graciously released a cook and a laundress from her personal staff to better serve you.”
Dumbfounded, Alessa’s mouth hung open. That a royal would share coveted servants with a commoner….
“They speak French, of course. Agata, you will attend solely to my wife’s needs. Whatever she asks of you, you will do.” His brow furrowed. “As long as she does not lure you into aiding her escape.”
Agata colored fiercely. “Yes, my lord.”
A sound akin to a dog’s growl came from Dante’s throat. Alessa slid her gaze to Agata’s horrified expression and realized Dante was upset over the title of lord. Even if no true title preceded his name, it was a matter of courtesy. She couldn’t imagine why he didn’t cherish the respect.
Recovered from her husband’s provocative warning, Alessa rose. “Come, Agata. Let us go up to my husband’s chamber and discuss your new duties.”
****
“What the devil is wrong with me?” Dante ranted. He lost count of the numerous times he paced the length of the solar. “What kind of man issues a threat meant to pleasure him and his lady?” The words had happened out of his mouth before he could stuff them back in. For certain he hadn’t succeeded in setting fear in her. Instead, he had awakened her guarded passion—and his servant’s.
Appalled, Dante slammed his fist into his palm. He had every intention of issuing a threat so horrible, it would force Alessandra to stop her wandering the streets alone ever again. Some threat. He hung his head. Now what was he to do? How did he recant something he had spoken in ill-suppressed desire? And how in the blazes did he stop the infernal fire breathing down on his spiked arousal?
“Female trouble, mon ami?” Etienne strode nonchalantly into the room.
Dante shared his discontent with the Frenchman. “Females are trouble.”
“Your wife has not learned her lesson?”
“I fear there is naught I say or do that will teach her how precious life is. She is wont to carry on her dangerous exploration.”
Etienne helped himself to a flagon of wine. “Mayhap you should return her to her cousin.”
Dante gave him a quizzical look.
“What good is she to us here? If the Valentes are involved with the Spanish, what better place to plant your wife than in their midst?”
Dante frowned at Etienne’s sound advice. As troublesome as she was, he was reluctant to let Alessandra go. His faith in the Valente family dwindled so much, he believed her life would be in danger should he send her back.
He shook his head. “I am certain the Valentes are guilty of aiding the Spanish. Catching them in the act is what eludes me. I have faith, they will err at some point.”
“Mayhap waiting for them to err will take far longer than we have. We will fare better come night, I think,” Etienne suggested.
“What say you?”
“Two of my men saw Benito come up from the shore last eve. Know you what business he might have with incoming ships?”
“Are they certain he was at the docks?”
Etienne lifted his brows, as if to question Dante’s doubt over his men’s trustworthiness.
Dante resumed pacing. “Why have you never sent your men to guard the docks?”
“Have you forgotten why Rene sent us to Naples? He believed a French presence will ward off a possible takeover should Alfonso attempt one. Thus far, the Spaniard has been quiet, planning a siege, no doubt. Until now, I have had little reason to suspect aid coming from foreign ships.”
Aid in what form? Dante wondered. “If Alfonso is gathering men to fight, they are not unloading off the ships. He would need an extraordinary number of men to defeat Rene. I have not noticed many new faces in Naples. And with Queen Isabelle living in the Anjou castle overlooking the harbor, Alfonso would be a fool to attempt so bold a move.”
“A fool or a wise man, mon ami, do not underestimate the Spanish king. I have heard he is a sneaky bastard.”
The hairs behind Dante’s neck rose, prickling his skin. A strange feeling of a warning perhaps? Alessandra waltzed into the solar then, mistress of the castle in all her glory. She had doffed her plain tunic in favor of a lavender silk gown.
“Do you intend to dine in the hall this eve, or would you prefer to take your meal in your—our chamber?”
He wasn’t fooled by the companionable lilt in her voice. The wench was up to something. “The hall,” he answered. He might better tamp down his growing appetite for Alessandra in the cavernous hall than with the two of them alone in his chamber.
“As you wish…husband.”
The honey dripping off her words struck him like a sharp knife embedded in his gut. A sick, uneasy feeling swam up his chest, leaving a fearful taste in his mouth. Fearful that he might end up carrying out the punishment he had carelessly threatened. Deep down, he knew if he tasted her once, he’d want her all the more.
“You are most fortunate, mon ami.” Etienne laughed. “It appears your wife has learned her lesson after all.”
Dante wouldn’t stake his life on it.
“Meet me at the docks this eve, just after dark. We will see for ourselves
if the Valentes are working against us. Till then,” his gaze glimmered briefly over Alessandra, “I shall see myself out.” Etienne gave her a nod and chuckled.
The Frenchman’s sense of humor did not amuse Dante. Etienne wouldn’t be so quick to laugh if he wore Dante’s shoes. Irritated, he brought his attention back to his wife. Her continued pleasant mood worsened his dour one. What the devil was she so happy about?
“Well, have you more to ask of me?”
“No.”
They starred at one another in silence. Against the good senses he’d been born with, Dante allowed his gaze to wander over her, from the proud set of her shoulders to the gently rounded protrusion of her breasts, to a narrow waist that could fit within the circle of his fingers. To the shapely legs he knew were hidden behind the expensive fabric. A chill cursed his back. The kind brought on by anticipation. Of what, though? Of lying with her, of running his hands over her naked body? Of kissing those sweet, soft lips?
“Bedamned!” He smacked a chair’s side table, rattling the flagon of wine and glass Etienne had used.
Alessandra jumped.
Dante glared at her.
Agata walked in then. “My lord!”
Seething, Dante whirled on the unsuspecting servant. The genuine fear in her eyes wasn’t enough for him to retreat. “Return my wife to my chamber, where she will remain until morning.”
As he expected, Alessandra protested. “What of our meal in the hall?”
“You will be served in my chamber. Where I eat is of no concern to you.”
“I should say it is.” She stood up to him, and he admired her tenacity. Too bad now was not the time for her stubborn streak to flare.
“If you do not go with Agata, I will take you up myself.”
She subdued her pricked temper, perhaps recalling his earlier threat.
“I shall go.” She paused near the door. “Will you return to your quarters in the French camp on this night?”
Sighing, Dante quelled the agitation brawling unkindly with his nerves. “I will return home tonight.”
She nodded and bade Agata to follow. He watched her walk away, troubled by the fact she cared where he would sleep at night.
****
The cold air cut Dante’s exposed cheeks with the sharpness of icicles. The layers of clothing and the heavy cloak he wore did little to stave off the chill of the night. He glanced skyward, noting the dark clouds drifting in. Rain would come, but how soon he could not tell.
He burrowed down behind a boulder, Etienne at his side. The two observed the tall ship docking in the bay. Dante glanced over his shoulder, ever cautious of his surroundings. More precisely, he looked out for Alessandra, praying she’d not disobey him again.
“Ho, Dante,” Etienne called in a hushed voice. “See that?”
Dante squinted through tree branches. Nigh a dozen men unloaded barrels, which were immediately carted off on a wagon. “Whatever they are transporting is weighty. Hear how they strain to move solely one barrel?”
“Oui.”
Granted, grain was heavy, as was most other imported goods. Because they unloaded barrels in the cover of night raised suspicion. Dante listened intently to the few words spoken. The talk proved trivial. Without prying the lid off a barrel, he and Etienne had no proof of illegal activity.
“Alors, we should turn back,” Etienne said. “I fear my fingers will freeze off if I do not wrap them around a mug of warm ale.”
“The gates have already been locked. Return with me to my home,” Dante invited.
“I think not. You are newly wed, and I’ll not interlope on you and your bride. I will sleep the night at Castel dell’Ovo. The queen has graciously retained a room for me should the need arise. Besides,” Etienne went on, grinning like a bird who captured a tasty prey, “there is a certain kitchen wench there who will gladly warm my bed.”
While Dante returned home to a warm hearth and a cold bed. Alas, envy of the captain’s footloose nature didn’t ease the heaviness in his loins. Only one woman could do that. A woman his conscience and body fought tooth and nail not to bed.
Chapter Twenty-One
In the warmth of his bedchamber, Dante peeled off his clothes. Layer by layer. Stalling. The crackling flames thawed his limbs, while the heat coursing through his blood kept his internal fires burning. Across the room Alessandra lay upon his bed, an angel enveloped in peaceful slumber. Would that he could join her, curve his body around hers and close his eyes on this night, dreaming only pleasant thoughts.
He rolled his head in a circle to release the tightness in his neck and reached around with his hand to rub at the sore spot between his shoulders. If he was certain his lust would remain intact, he’d bid Alessandra to massage the tension away. Alas, his quick to react body had proven time and again it cannot be trusted…or controlled.
He glanced down at himself. He had only his hose to remove, the last bastion protecting his manhood against seeking the pleasure of the woman whose body it ached to plunder. Perhaps sleeping in the same room as Alessandra tempted his vow of celibacy, but he couldn’t bring himself to lay his weary head elsewhere.
At the side of the bed, he gazed down on the beauty. His heart fluttered erratically. How he wished their circumstance was not so detrimental to entire countries. She stirred, and Dante held his breath. He noticed she held the covers tight to her chin. Did she believe they were as strong as a suit of armor to keep away a predator—likely him?
“Sleep well, bella mia,” he whispered. “You are safe from the wolf on this night.”
He turned but paused when he thought he saw her eyelids twitch. Curious, he moved in for a closer look.
“Bedamned, woman. I commend your ability to feign sleep so well.”
As if to prove him wrong, she lifted her lids drowsily and yawned. “You are home.”
Dante perched his hands on his hips. “And well you knew it.” He glanced at the hearth, then back to his scheming wife. “Did you enjoy watching me undress?”
Alessa had lain abed for hours, listening for his return. When he tip-toed into the chamber, she selfishly watched him warm up by the fire before he disrobed at his leisure. Both torturous and tempting, she had been unable to turn away. As it was, she barely contained an appreciative sigh when all that remained was his hose molded to his long, muscular legs.
“I beg your pardon, but I was quite asleep until you spoke.”
His eyes sparked with disbelief. Whether or not he believed her, she cared not. Her gaze caressed the bare breadth of his chest, glistening with sweat from the hot fire. Just one touch was all she wanted, to feel his skin pulled smoothly over muscles, to run her fingertips through the tiny curls of dark hair littered across his chest and down his belly. Instead, she forced her hand to remain beneath the covers.
“I thank you for keeping your word to me.”
His eyes tapered with a questionable look.
“You said you would come back to the castle tonight.”
“So I did.” As he turned away, he halted abruptly. His gaze followed a path across the floor to the bit of rug leading to the door.
Alessandra popped up onto one elbow and leaned forward to see what had caught his attention. Oh Lord, she was in deep trouble now. She had failed to cover her muddy tracks. The small, narrowly spaced footprints spoke louder than words.
Dante jerked around. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than the blaze in the hearth. He grasped the edge of the counterpane in his huge fist and tore it away. When he saw her chemise and stockings, she feared the vein bulging along his neck would burst. Never had she seen a vein that thick fervently pulsing. Alessa gulped.
His chest heaved like a volcanic mountainside ready to explode. His mouth twisted in an animal-like snarl. Alessa’s heart plummeted. She feared he’d stage his initial threat. But he was much too incensed to tie her to the bed and have his way with her. Faith, he looked as if he wanted to kill her instead.
She bolted from the mattress
, the bed the only solid thing between his fingers and her fool neck. She gripped the fat, carved spindle at the bed’s foot with two hands, using it as a shield. “Do not be hasty to judge what you think you saw.”
She glimpsed her carelessly tossed clothes on the floor. When they had heard Dante enter the great hall, she and Agata had worked feverishly to get her garments off of her and see her to bed before he climbed the stairs. The maidservant hadn’t the time to hide any of it.
Alessa tried once more to reason with him. “If you must know, I strolled the yard.”
“Lies will not help you, Alessandra. I know from where the mud comes. There is naught like it in the yard of this castle. It is found only near the docks. What I beg to know is, how did you gain your freedom from the servants who, by my orders, were to keep you from leaving the grounds?”
He prowled around the bed, his eyes tight upon her, their lavender deepened to a turbulent purple. She backed away, mentally planning an escape route should he unleash the raging storm brewing.
“Mayhap you are not aware of the patches of mud in the yard. Faith, it was not easy keeping my skirts from the filth.”
God help her, for she had used up all the excuses she could find. Just the truth remained, which would surely reap his punishment.
He lunged for her. Alessa yelped and scrambled across the bed, sliding off the rumpled counterpane as she made a valiant attempt to get to the door. Dante’s long strides outmatched hers two to one, and he caught her by the waist.
“Can we discuss—?”
“No!” The word vibrated where her back pressed firmly against his chest. “You have been given more warnings than you rightfully deserve. You leave me no other choice, Alessandra.”
“My husband you may be, but you cannot tie me up like an animal.”
“I can, and I will.”
He tossed her down to the mattress, and for the briefest moment he let go. Had she not grappled with the counterpane and blankets to keep from bouncing off the bed, she might have escaped. Before she came to her senses, he pulled her chemise over her head and pushed her back to the mattress. As he tugged off her hose, she popped back up and pounded his upper arm with her fists. He merely swatted her efforts away and succeeded in removing the last bit of clothing defending her body from his view.
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