"What is going on here?" she asked Giovanni as he swung up onto his horse and pulled her up in front of him with his casual strength.
Giovanni was silent until they had ridden some distance from the camp. "You asked if we were at war. We have no choice but to be at war. Large wolves surround us, powerful and greedy. They look to our lands and our riches. That is why I have long kept the treasures and wealth of the famiglia Scarletti deep within the passageways, protected by our ancestors' traps. Our country's wealth has been plundered time and time again. A good leader senses when a change is in the wind, and he must act immediately. Wars are not necessarily fought on a battlefield, yet they can be just as deadly and just as fierce. Austria looks to control our lands, and soon, if I am right, she will be in power. I think the time is right to align with her. She will allow the more powerful famiglie to continue ruling here while she looks to her own borders. We will have a chance to grow stronger and thrive. To arrange this, when some are evidently not in favor of my decision, we meet in secret, in small groups, so only a few may identify others. Since there is a traitor in the palazzo, the young Goeboli must be kept hidden. The men will bring him to the cove, and I will bring him into the palazzo through the passageway. My own guards will see to his safety, and only you will enter his room to attend him."
"How did you get the scratch on your chest last night?" She asked abruptly, trying to keep her voice even and her mind blank, as if his answer was not of great importance to her. But he urged his mount into a thick stand of trees, brought it to a halt, and dismounted with her.
They were back within familiar territory, not far from Nicoletta's herb garden. She stretched, raising her arms above her head to the night sky. The sea breeze was cool and crisp, swirling wisps of white fog around her skirt so that she seemed to rise up like a siren from the clouds.
Giovanni sighed softly. "You told me you believed my own cousin had entered into a conspiracy against me. I know my life is in danger. Four times recently there have been attempts against me. Damian on the beach, the poisoned soup, once when I was out hunting with Antonello, and our wedding night.
Nicoletta stared at him, her eyes enormous in the silvery moonlight. "How long ago was your hunting trip with Antonello?" She could read the sincerity in his voice, his eyes. He hadn't gone to another woman on their wedding night, abused and mistreated her. Nicoletta had been certain he hadn't, but it was still comforting to hear him confirm he had not been the one to harm Beatrice. The memory of Beatrice's wrist, the terrible bruising and burns, was suddenly vivid in her mind. And Margerita had the exact same circlet of bruises on her wrist. Nicoletta's breath caught in her throat. Both women had been with the same man. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to concentrate on what her husband was saying, holding the revelation to herself tightly.
Giovanni shrugged. "Some months ago. The sudden assault was enough of a warning. I knew someone must have gotten wind of our plans. I immediately moved to protect our treasures and my famiglia."
Nicoletta turned away from Giovanni, unwilling for him to read her oft-transparent expression. Antonello had been hunting with Giovanni. Yes, Antonello had been wounded, but that could have been an accident. Damian had been Antonello's best friend as well as cousin. Anyone in the palazzo, including Antonello, would know that Bernado always left soup warming for Giovanni. Antonello had been with the guards the previous night. And Antonello had come out of the maze the day Cristano vanished within it, his clothing bloodstained. He moved freely throughout the countryside, unlike Vincente, who would never willingly venture among the peasants in the villaggi.
"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 swel
led 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 flutt
ered 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."
Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse Page 32