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."
The night wind whispered around them. The fog muffled the other night sounds, its veils of white weaving in and out of the trees. Nicoletta's dark eyes searched his face carefully. "Have I done that for you? Have I given you peace, Giovanni?"
He trailed his fingers down her soft skin, over the creamy swell of her breasts. "More than enough to last a lifetime. I thought your body would give me solace—a selfish thought, really—but you also light up my home, so my people smile now. I have heard singing and laughter where there was once only silence." He bent to kiss her lips, gently, tenderly. "You have changed my life, piccola, and I long to feel mio bambino growing in your belly." His fingers spread wide as if already holding the child beneath his palm. "The day cannot pass fast enough so that I can get to our bedchamber where you are waiting for me." His hand slipped lower to the tangle of dark, moist curls, pressing to feel the hot dampness. Giovanni's breath escaped in a long sigh of contentment. "I look into the coming years and know it will always be this way. The instant I see you, feel your body, touch you, I will want you again and again. It will never matter that we have just made love. I will grow hard and thick and heavy with my need."
He slid two fingers into her tight channel and felt the instant rush of damp heat that welcomed him. He bent his head to the waiting tip of her breast, his mouth suckling, his fingers gliding in and out of her until her muscles clenched with fiery need. Catching up his shirt, he placed it on the fallen log and then lifted her easily, backing her up until her bottom rested on the shirt. He took her feet, carefully placing them near the log so she was open and vulnerable to his invasion.
"Again?" Nicoletta's breath was coming in gasps. "You want me again?" She had to brace herself with her arms.
"So much that I am going up in flames, cara." He caught her to him, pinning her hips so he could thrust forward, bury himself deep.
This time she could see his face, the lines etched deep, the hot intensity in his eyes, their bodies coming together in a dance of passion and heat. She moved with him, finding his rhythm, urging him to longer, deeper strokes, wanting to take him so deep he would find shelter in her soul. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing tightly against him, so he was rocking into her, so they were one.
Nicoletta watched his face, his every expression, the shadows, the joy, each nuance. She wanted his pleasure to be every bit as intense as her own. He was very giving, ensuring her fulfillment before his own, taking care, no matter how strongly he surged into her, no matter how violent his passion, that his hands were gentle and she suffered no discomfort other than the torment of the building fire within. Of the coiling heat winding tighter and tighter until she exploded with it, taking him with her.
Nicoletta stared up at him, astonished by the magnitude of their joining. He was a man of great power, of enormous strength, and yet he was always so tender with her. His expertise never made her feel inadequate. She found herself smiling up at him. "I think I need to sleep, Giovanni. Right here, right now. You've worn me out."
He gathered her to him, and her feet touched the ground, something real and solid. His strong body was still trembling, his heart beating loud and strong beneath her ear. "You want to sleep out here? Under the stars? I would not want you to take ill." The fog brought with it the salt mist from the ocean.
She nestled against him. "I am with you. Nothing can harm me."
Chapter Eighteen
Nicoletta looked around her, searching for her clothes. The fine sea spray was clinging to her hair, curling it into long spirals around her shoulders. "Do you ever get tired of being the don?" she asked. "So many petitioners coming to you with their problems, expecting you to solve everything to their satisfaction?" She tilted her head to one side, her hair sliding over her breasts. "And how is it you became the don at so young an age? What happened to your padre?" She preferred he tell her everything here in the open, with the sound of the waves crashing to shore and the
wind carrying his words out to sea.
Giovanni raked a hand through his black hair, his gaze all at once wary. "Nonno became quite ill, a terrible fever. We did not expect him to recover. The mantle of leadership fell to mio padre. Even though Nonno was ill and near death, there were things he refused to tell mio padre about the running of our lands. I think he knew Padre was…" He searched for the right words. "Not up to the demands of such a position. Nonno had a difficult and long recovery, and he remained quite weak. But it soon became clear that my father could not continue leading our people. There were… incidents. He made enemies and neglected his duties in his constant pursuit of women. Our people and estates, the lands, were being ruined at a shameful rate. It could not continue. There was also talk that he was selling out our allies." He glanced down at his hands. "Mio padre was assassinated. I never found out who ordered it, though I tried. I know other dons were concerned that my father was aiding our enemies, and I know Nonno feared such a thing would happen. Mio padre was buried quietly, and as Nonno had never sufficiently recovered, I assumed leadership." He left it unspoken that most of their people believed his grandfather had murdered his own wife.
Nicoletta found her blouse and held it to her for a moment, thankful she had grown up in the villaggio, free from so much deadly intrigue. "I am most happy that you chose me to be your bride, Giovanni. I hope I always take the shadows from your eyes."
He went to her immediately, his arms dragging her close, his mouth finding hers. His hands moved over her bare back, shaping her narrow ribcage, then gliding upward to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, already hard peaks in the cold night air. "I am most happy I looked upon you and recognized you immediately. You were meant for me. I knew you were. I feel it in my heart."
Nicoletta nearly dropped her blouse, holding him to her, cradling his head to her, her fingers in his hair. "I feel it, too." She held him close, offering comfort until he reached to kiss her gently before reluctantly letting her go.
She pulled her blouse over her head, sliding her arms into the sleeves, determined to bring a smile back to his face. "Look at how perfect it is out here, quiet, lots of space to run free." She stepped into her skirt, tilting her head back, looking like a wild siren. "I love it up here."
Giovanni dressed slowly, watching her as she danced around the trees, her soft laughter a whisper of invitation.
Nicoletta looked at him over her shoulder, provocative, sexy. She saw he was smiling. He looked younger, more carefree than she had ever seen him.
"My barefoot wife," he said softly, and he went to his horse to pull a ground sheet from his pack. "If you want to spend a little more time alone here with me, who am I to say no to you? We can rest for a short time. We are not far from the palazzo."
"Not here, Giovanni," Nicoletta said. "Up on the cliffs above the sea. It is so beautiful there at night. We can watch the waves and look for the sea lights that sometimes shine deep under the water. They look like silver nets below the surface. Have you ever seen them?"
Don Scarletti nodded as he followed her up the narrow path toward the cliffs overlooking the sandy cove where his cousin and associate had attacked him. It had been a long while since he had shirked his duties and taken a few hours for himself. He had a new bride; it seemed little enough to ask to sit with her, just the two of them, watching the sea. He spread the cover on the ground and took her hand, helping her to settle. He sat close to her, pulling her into his arms.
Nicoletta snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. She was drowsy, her body sated and deliciously sore. She curled her fingers in his. "I had a happy childhood, Giovanni. I lost mio padre before I knew him, so I was not sad. The time I had with mia madre was wonderful. She made life an adventure. She was always laughing and singing, and other children flocked to her. I was devastated when she and my zia, her sister, died, but Maria Pia was there, and she allowed me my freedom, and she loved me with all her heart. She never made me feel different. She made me feel special. She said I had gifts from God."
His hand found her hair and tangled there. "Now you make young Sophie and Ketsia feel special, as you will make our children feel special." His arm tightened possessively around her. "Why do you fear me so much, Nicoletta?" The words slipped out of him before he could stop them.
Nicoletta felt the way his heart jumped. She was silent a moment. It was not in her nature to tell an untruth. She turned her gaze so she could meet the dark intensity of his. "Because you fear yourself. It is in everything you say and do. This dark curse you and your brothers live under. You believe in it, and that gives it life."
"You do not believe in it?" he asked quietly, the words barely audible. He turned away from her to stare out at the foaming sea. "You cannot see it?"
"I see that you give it power. As long as you believe in it, you breathe life into it, Giovanni. You give it power. It lies in wait, watching you for a moment of weakness. And we all have them, you know. Each of us. If you believe you are cursed with murderous, uncontrollable jealousy, there will come a time when I will smile in the direction of some young, handsome soldier, and you will see me. The curse will be there, crouching like a wild beast, lying in wait to take a hold of you. I will not give it life; you will have already done so." She sounded sad.
Giovanni bent his head to hers at once, kissing her eyes, the corner of her mouth. "Tell me how to break the curse, angelo mio. Tell me what to do. I feel it clawing at me when I look out the window and see you laughing in the courtyard with Francesco or Dominic or even mio fratello. You are so beautiful, you take my breath away. I know without you there would be emptiness. I have endured emptiness, and I do not want to go back. I would rather die now, happy for once in my existence, than ever risk harming you in some way as mio nonno did his wife. He adored mia nonna, yet she is dead, and he is hollow. Better that I never took you as my wife than have the fate of the famiglia catch up with us."
"Then you must believe in me, Giovanni," Nicoletta whispered softly. She framed his face in her hands. "Believe in what you see in my eyes when I look upon you. Believe in my body when you touch me. Believe in yourself, in your strength and power, but most of all, believe in us. If you can do that, the curse will be broken, useless. I could smile at a hundred young, handsome men, and you would always know I see only your face, want only your body. It is up to you." She allowed her hands to slip away from him, but her eyes were steady on his.
"You think the Scarletti men have fashioned their own curse?" He shoved a hand through his dark hair, tousling it even more than did the wind. "Do you think our women have been driven insane or murdered for a powerless curse?" His fingers tangled in her hair, the long, silken strands sliding around his palm.
Dark color swept into her face. His voice was mild, yet he made her feel young and foolish. Her gaze fell away from his. Who was she to try to explain away something that his family had lived with for generations? Giovanni caught her chin in his palm, forcing her to look at him. "Do you believe what you are saying, Nicoletta?" he persisted. "Really believe it?"
She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. She did believe what she was saying, but did she trust him enough to admit it? She was so much younger and inexperienced than he, a woman and of much lower status.
"Nicoletta." He breathed her name out into the wind. His talisman. His world. His arms enfolded her again, holding her tightly against his body.
She decided to speak and risk his derision. "Everyone has weaknesses, Giovanni. Even the Scarlettis. Jealousy is just as wrong as telling an untruth. It eats one from the inside out, destroys men and women. It is a weakness, not a curse. You can stop it just as your nonno could have stopped it. You should not give it merit, should not nurture it or feed it or allow it any power over you at all. It is not really a curse, Giovanni. No legacy of love gone wrong. In truth, it is something you must fight, like an enemy or an illness. Be vigilant at all times, never lower your guard, and you will conquer the 'curse.'"
; "You believe it is that easy?" There was a grimness to his voice.
Nicoletta shook her head. "Not easy, and yet not so difficult. It is a matter of trusting yourself and the one you love. You cannot simply own someone and expect her to love you in return," she pointed out bravely.
He stared down into the pounding, foaming water, the waves rushing at the shore and crashing against the rocks. His fingers found the nape of her neck, massaging gently to ease her fears. "Is that what Scarletti men do? Own their women?"
"You tell me. You are the one afraid of the curse, Giovanni. I do not fear the curse anymore, only one who believes so strongly in its power to destroy us."
He was silent for a long time, giving her words the respect of thought. "How did you get to be so wise at such a young age?"
"Each of us has our strengths to balance our weaknesses. I have many weaknesses, Giovanni. Men are not one of them. I am loyal and truthful, and I will be your faithful helpmate if you allow it." She ducked her head. "Among my weaknesses are that I do things without thinking, and I need the freedom of the hills." Her voice was becoming drowsy.
He laughed softly. "I never would have guessed such a thing, piccola. But you are weary, falling asleep. We must go home this night. You will have a patient waiting. I would like to get there soon to ensure his identity is not discovered."
Nicoletta groaned softly in protest but obediently stood and stretched to ease the stiffness in her body. She rubbed her cheek along his broad shoulder. "I do not care where we sleep, as long as we do it soon."
Giovanni swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "You look like a bambina with your big eyes drooping, ready for sleep." He bent his head to hers, his mouth drifting lazily over her face. "Thank you for being my wife."
She smiled up at him, her long lashes sweeping down. "You are very welcome." She was floating, half awake, half asleep, as he carried her back to where he had left the horse. She welcomed sleep, but most of all she welcomed the comfort of his arms. She had dared to tell him her thoughts, and he wasn't angry with her, nor had he dismissed her ideas as silly and childish. He had treated her as an equal. That meant more than any gift he could have given her.
Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse Page 33