Leo lowered his head and hesitated. He pulled her arm away to afford him an unobstructed view of her breasts. He leaned forward, his lips poised a mere breath away from her blushing nipples. He closed his hand around one breast and spread the fingers of his other hand around her waist. The ragged rise and fall of her breasts teased his senses. She wasn’t voluptuous. Some men might think her too slender. In his eyes, she was prefect. She pressed her fingers to her lips as she perused his face. Confusion knitted her brows. Careful to stay his precarious lust while he eased the pureness from her, he kissed her fingers, those damnable gloves coming between his lips and her flesh.
Leo frowned at her insistence on covering her hands and couldn’t imagine what ailment she hid. He gripped her wrist and pulled on the tips of her glove. She jerked her hand back, admonishing him as if he had touched a sacred place. If she rejected his desire to see her bare hands, what would she do when he sank into her body?
“Is there an odd custom in England for wearing gloves? Think you they will come off now? We are married,” he reminded her and convinced himself by repeating that fact far too many times since they’d spoken their vows.
“Ladies wear their gloves…” She took her upper lip between her teeth.
“Surely not to bed?”
“It is a lady’s prerogative.”
“But what about mine, the lord of this castle and your master?”
She snatched up her tunic from the floor. “Master of naught, you are.”
He allowed her to don her garment. The mood to ravish her delectable body faded.
“Must I continue to remind you of the circumstances behind our wedding vows? If ours was truly a marriage, then I would allow you to remove my gloves.”
Allowed? The woman was delusional. She’d have no choice but to do as he bade. “Faith, know you a wife’s place?”
“Certainly.” Her head tilted at an assertive angle, jutting her pert nose in the air.
“Woman—”
“I do have a name. I’ll not answer to woman…or wife. And most certainly not wench.”
Leonardo rocked back and forth on his feet. “Barely wed an hour and already you are making demands. Hear me well. As long as you and I are married, we will behave as a husband and wife should. You must show respect for me in public.” She folded her arms across her chest. Damn her stubborn stance. “As well as in the privacy of our bedchamber.”
Her body stiffened, and she leaned forward. At first he thought she would attempt to beat him. He glanced down at her hands. Any fist she’d make would cause no harm. She hadn’t the muscle to hurt a man.
“Pardon me, sir, but you have mistaken my bedchamber for yours as well.”
Her sarcastic tone cut through his tough skin. “No, Eliza, this is no longer your bedchamber. It is ours. Unless you would prefer the marchese’s bed.”
“I should say not! He died in his bed.” She stomped her foot.
No matter to him, but he respected her woman’s delicate constitution and retracted his choice. “Then your chamber it is.”
In a righteous mood, Leo yanked her overly hard against him, and her breath whooshed out. No time did he give her to complain, for he captured her in a brutal kiss, the frustration she caused in him clawing its way out. He released her and set her away from him. The little twit swiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
“What makes you think you are good enough to share a bed with a noble?” The instant it left her mouth, Eliza wished fervently to retract her thoughtless query. Never had she looked down upon the less fortunate. To be sure, she had given the manor’s uneaten food to the people begging on the streets.
Leonardo’s jaw tightened, and his lips compressed to an unfriendly white line. Eliza thought to retreat to the other side of the bed, for he appeared ready to pounce, beat her for the blunder she spoke. Instead, he spun around and trod heavily out of the chamber.
Leo raced down the stairs, passing his stunned friend and Eduardo.
“Where are you going?” Santo asked.
“I cannot breathe. I need air.”
“Do you want company?”
“No. I must be alone.”
After Leo fled, Santo and Eduardo exchanged worried glances. Santo contemplated Leo’s peculiar behavior. There was only one reason for his senseless flight. Leonardo Da Mitri had finally found a woman his heart desired, and he knew naught about how to deal with those unexpected feelings shooting arrows at his heart.
“Do not worry,” he said to the servant. “Much has transpired in Signor Da Mitri’s life. He will come around. Until then, we must obey his wish to be left alone.”
****
The brute stayed away from her bedchamber last eve. For that, Eliza was grateful. More than apprehension over lying with Leonardo troubled her, though. The strange things she’d felt when he perused her naked body made her curious and confused. Her skin crawled, but in a good way. Her heart pounded and her blood raced through her veins. Then there was her nether region, which she couldn’t stop from pulsing in his presence.
“You have not touched your bread or cheese.” The stern look on Leticia’s face didn’t match the worry in her eyes.
“I fear I awoke with no appetite this morn.”
“Milady, are you all right? That Italian did not hurt you overmuch, did he?”
A creeping blush warmed Eliza’s cheeks. “No.” Cobwebs tangled her tongue, and that single word croaked out of her mouth.
A frown of disapproval altered the woman’s features. “Well, he is not refined. Certainly not a gentleman.”
Boot heels echoed in the great hall. Eliza lifted her gaze beyond her maidservant and was taken aback to find Leonardo advancing toward her. He kept a wary eye on Leticia. And well he should. The woman didn’t like him, and she’d do anything to prevent Eliza from getting hurt or mistreated.
“A word, if I may,” he said and glanced at the maidservant.
Eliza nodded.
Leonardo stopped before the table but remained silent. He turned straightforward to Leticia. She met his ire without flinching. “Madam?”
Leticia’s brows popped upward.
Having no desire to see the two battle for authority, Eliza smiled up at her. “It will be fine, Letty.”
Without breaking the fierce look passing between Letty and Leonardo, the maidservant grumbled. “I shall be around the corner should you need me.”
“She’ll not need you.” Leonardo challenged her, not realizing she wouldn’t bend. He held his silence until they were alone. “I am your husband, Eliza.”
She rolled her eyes. “Have we not already established that last eve?”
“Mind your tone.”
She angled her head at an inauspicious angle. “Get on with it, then.”
He frowned, as he seemed to do a great deal of lately. “Tonight, we will share the same bed. We will carry on as would a married couple. That means, prepare yourself, woman. Tonight, I will make you mine.”
Eliza stomped to her feet. “So be it, but I will not welcome you—”
“You will. Your body is mine and you have no say in what I do with it.”
A scandalous shiver raced down her spine. The act of coupling baited her curiosity. But the refined part deliberately rejected him. “You have made yourself quite clear. Tonight will be the worst of my life.”
He bounded over the table, forcing a little scream up Eliza’s throat. She dropped to her seat, focused on the fury ravaging his features. The ne’er-do-well she had first met no longer resided in the signore. Indeed, he behaved positively atrocious.
His hands gripped the chair arms. His face drew near. Eliza suffocated without air, for he had stolen it from her lungs. Faith, she had ceased breathing. She forced herself to inhale and exhale as she stared into his handsome but brutish face.
“Hear me well, woman. No matter what you think of me or of the circumstances that united us, we are husband and wife. Neither you nor I can change that. If the idea of l
ying with me is horrible, think you I may feel the same about you?”
She leaned away as far as she could, her back pressed into the wood, and shook her head. Though he had little doubt she’d take great pleasure from lying with him, he remained peeved that she’d continue to look at him as if he wasn’t good enough to be in her presence.
Leonardo straightened away else he’d yank her from the chair and carry her up to their bedchamber. He had set the idea of how he perceived her in her head. Truth be told, there was naught horrible about his wife. At least naught physical. It was her attitude that unbalanced his senses and turned him damned ornery. And hot to have her naked body against his.
“If you think that of me, why then do you demand to share my bed and…me?”
His need for her outweighed his sanity, and he couldn’t come up with an honest answer.
A tremor shook her body. Had he been right? Did she truly see him as a repulsive bedmate? Leo dropped to the chair beside hers. She gave him no reason to believe she cared little for him. Faith, her countenance spoke of desire, yet her words refuted what he observed.
He scraped his chair around to face her and pulled her closer by the chair’s arms. He spread his knees to create space for her legs. He’d trapped her and well she knew it.
“It is up to you to decide how we spend our year-long marriage. But know you this. I am a man with a hearty appetite for women. You cannot refuse my husbandly rights for long. At some point, I will have you. If not tonight, mayhap on the morrow or the night after.” He forced himself to breathe normally, but his chest hurt from subduing his frustration. “Would it not be more pleasant if we got on well together?”
“By sleeping in the same bed?” She finished her thought with a crescendo. “Can you not seek out women who will gladly lie with you?”
Never had he met a female who preferred he’d bed other women. Perhaps Eliza wasn’t the jealous kind. “I fear, my pretty English wife, no other will I allow to touch my body now that I am married to you.”
“But—” She sputtered for words. “It is every husband’s duty to have a mistress. Or two.”
“You are the only woman I desire to caress me.” He slapped his hand down on her knee before she could lift her foot to stomp. “Enough of this childish behavior. No matter how privileged you were in England, you are in Italy now. We have a castle to care for, and you will no longer sit on a plump pillow and demand service from others. Capisce?”
She tilted her head.
“Do you understand?” he repeated in English.
She folded her arms under her breasts, unknowingly exposing the upper half of their milk-white flesh. Bedamned! A man could endure only so much temptation before his lust overpowered his restraint.
Curving his fingers around her waist, he scooted her forward. Her shriek sent her maid dashing into the hall.
“Leave us!” Leo’s thunder boomed off the solid stone walls. He would have buried his face in the crevice of his wife’s breasts, but the damned maidservant killed the moment…again. Grumpy now, he pushed Eliza’s chair away and rose. He pinned her maid with an unnerving glare. “Madam, you have interrupted us for the last time. If you feel the need to do so again, you will find yourself tending to the horses in the stable until I am able to secure passage for you to return to England.” He cast a warning look on his wife. “We shall continue tonight in the privacy of our bedchamber. Do not think to sleep elsewhere. I will tear this castle apart to find you.”
Chapter 7
Eliza sat on the bed, her back to Leticia who stood behind her and combed her hair. The nightly ritual soothed Eliza, but on this night, she feared naught could console the turmoil spinning in her stomach. She feared Leonardo would come up to their bedchamber and fulfill the lust Leticia had interrupted this morn. Bedding her was not in the will. Why then did her husband believe he had a right to claim her virginity? Did he fail to see their true situation? Did he not care about her reputation after the year was over? Frightened and intrigued by what was to come, she pressed her hand to her midsection to quell the chaotic flittering.
“You are quiet this eve, milady.”
“I should have declined the inheritance. Oh, Leticia, the marchese obviously confused me with another.”
“He did not.”
Eliza peered over her shoulder. “What say you?”
Letty turned Eliza to face her. “The marchese’s servant told me the inheritance was indeed meant for you, though he would not say why.”
“But who is Marchese Calendri?” Distress embellished her words.
“Pray you will know soon.” Leticia returned the pearl encrusted bush to Eliza’s trunk. When she came around, concern shadowed her eyes. “Since you have no other woman to confide in, I will explain what Signor Da Mitri will expect of you tonight. That is, if you desire me to speak on such matters.”
The color drained from Eliza’s face, along with the brave front she maintained. She lifted her ungloved hand to her mouth and chewed on her terribly short fingernails.
“Milady, you have done well since our travels began, but you must keep the gloves on to stop your nasty habit. If you continue, your fingers will bleed again.” She located a clean pair of light linen gloves in the trunk. “Please wear these. Praise the Lord your husband did not take your virginity last eve. I fear what I am about to tell you will make you chew your nails to the bone.”
How bad could Leticia’s talk be? The husband lay upon his wife and ruts. What more was there? Oh, Lord. His privates would touch hers without a barrier between them.
The chamber door groaned as it opened inward. Leonardo stepped into the room, his hair tousled and his brow damp. Eliza quickly shoved her hands into the gloves. She feared his fleeting frown. He’d most certainly demand that she removed them. The minute he saw Leticia, he clenched his teeth, turning his jaw stone solid.
Eliza swallowed and purposely softened her voice. “Letty and I have not finished—”
“It matters not.” His glacial stare landed on her maidservant. “Leave.”
The woman glanced at Eliza.
“Do not look to my wife to dismiss you.” Leo’s voice grated in his ears. The wretched maidservant continued to walk a precarious line. “You have no right to enter this bedchamber unless you first ask for my permission. Now leave us. I desire to be alone with my…” He raked his gaze over the tempting creature sitting in a haughty pose upon their bed.
For once, the woman obeyed, though she passed him with a tight frown. Leo closed the door, lifted his tunic over his head and tossed it on the floor.
“You may undress.”
“Think you I will remove my clothes with you present?”
Leo ground his back teeth to stay his damned lust. He’d tear her clothes off if he allowed himself to. “My wife has a viper tongue. You have much to learn about married life.”
“Coming from you?” She sat taller, affronted, he could see. “I am aware of how you lived before you received the letter.”
Curling his fingers into his hand, he drew a deep breath. He was fast losing his will not to throw her down and plunge into her virgin warmth. If she thought he’d treat her gently because of her noble bearing, she was wrong. When he took a step toward her, fear scurried over her features.
“I may surprise you, Eliza.” He drew nearer, gauging her expression, wondering if she’d fly off the bed and try to escape. “Truth be told, I have bedded countless women, some virgins.”
“Please, can we not discuss a mutual agreement between us? We need not seek pleasures of the flesh while married.” She scooted back to the middle of the bed, just where he wanted her.
With his knee sinking into the mattress, Leo paused. “Do you fear lying with a man?”
Her gaze darted everywhere but to his, and her skin flushed red.
“Answer me.”
She cleared her throat, apparently stalling. Perhaps her fears were based on her pureness. Of course she would be frightened and apprehensive.
She didn’t understand the fulfillment she’d experience from their union.
“What woman would not fear a man’s intimate touch?” The quiver in her voice did naught to cool his spiking ardor.
Leo smiled tenderly, hoping it would diminish her anxieties and give him the pleasure he sought. He closed his fingers around her delicate wrist. Faith, was she sturdy enough to withstand his body’s endeavors upon hers?
As he tugged her to her knees, her reluctance scratched his heart. Bedamned! Never had he thought twice before bedding a woman his body craved. He shook off his hesitation and ran his hand along the length of her hair. She tensed.
“Do not be afraid,” he whispered. He sluiced his fingers through the silky strands, fascinated by how they shimmered like a waterfall in twilight. Gathering her hair in one fist at the nap of her neck, he gently tugged back, lifting her face to his full view. He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek, intrigued by its downy softness. No makeup did she wear or need. Color bloomed brighter on her skin the longer he lingered.
She held her breath as his lips glided toward her forehead. When he kissed the top of her head, the fine scent of roses mingled in her hair and floated up his nostrils. Not just any roses, but the dainty ones he’d always admired.
He flicked his gaze down to her mouth. Her breath rushed out, pelting his lips. Leo cupped her face in his hands, their complexion vastly different. He tilted her lips up to receive his kiss. How sweet and innocent she tasted. He lifted his head and searched her eyes. He expected to find loathing or denial, but what he saw in their depths was the sheen of a maiden, reminding him to be gentle. It was damn difficult to keep his lust at bay. The heaviness in his groin urged him to alleviate his need, take her at will. Alas, he could not. Wife or not, she was a virgin, and he was fully aware of the pain he’d inflict just to appease his hunger.
The bed dipped from Leo’s weight as he joined her. He held her hand, annoyed suddenly to feel her glove and not her flesh. When he attempted to remove one,she snatched her hand out of his.
“I cannot bed a woman wearing gloves.” The truth was, he wanted her naked hands to caress his body. He held fast to her other hand and yanked off the glove. She cried out, the horrified look on her face puzzling. Then he saw her fingers. And blinked hard. How did a noble lady come by the fingernails of a chore woman? Faith, her nails had worn down below her fingertips. He searched her features for an explanation.
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