by Lowe, Anna
Cara missed her next oar stroke, splashing the surface like an amateur.
Tony blushed under his short-cropped beard. “I guess that explains your eyes. One blue, one green.”
As a kid, she’d hated being different. But as she’d grown up, she’d come to embrace who she was. Well…mostly.
She shrugged it off. “My eyes might be a mix, but I’m all lion. And that’s my only problem in Venice. No place for a big cat to roam.”
“Here, no. But out on the islands…” Tony’s eyes took on a faraway look, and his nostrils flared as if he could sniff some special place.
She wanted to ask about that place — and so much more. Where he’d grown up, what he’d done in his years away, what he planned to do next.
Instead, she fell into silence, and Tony did too. His sharp eyes roamed around, registering familiar landmarks. At times, his expression turned merry, and he shared some childhood escapades, like joining friends in sneaking in to one of the boarded-up palaces they passed. Other times, his expression grew sad or wistful, and he murmured occasionally.
“Signora Benedetti lived there.” He looked in the direction of a boarded-over house. “My grandmother’s friend. She made the best biscotti…”
Cara stroked along quietly, taking in the city with new eyes. What would it be like to face banishment forever? Or to come home unexpectedly, only to find that so much had changed?
She paddled along, then used her foot to push off the corner of a building to negotiate the tight turn. As she did, she let out the standard gondolier’s call of warning.
“Oeh!”
The moment they made the turn, a fresh breeze blew in her face, and a light slap sounded against the bow. They were nearing the city’s outer limits, where the protected canals gradually gave way to the open lagoon.
“Just up there.” She indicated the second to last villa on the right — a wine-colored building with marble window frames. “Grazia’s palace. I rent a little apartment on the lower floor.”
“How low?” Tony eyed the waterline.
She laughed. “Just high enough to stay dry — so far. Apparently, it floods with the most extreme acqua alta. Still, that keeps it cheap.”
She paddled for the delivery entrance and tied up to Grazia’s docking posts — paline painted in a barbershop swirl of burgundy and white — and stepped to the marble entrance, where several lines had been marked on the wall. The highest was marked 1966, and the next one, 2019.
“Acqua alta,” Tony murmured.
She nodded. Flood lines like those were constant reminders of how important her work was.
Then she pulled a huge skeleton key from behind a flowerpot, making Tony chuckle.
“High security, I see.”
“Ha. I pity the fool who decides to break in to Grazia’s place.” Then she added, “Brace yourself,” and led him inside.
Three dogs rushed up, their nails clicking on the marble floor while they barked madly. Two jumped for joy on seeing Cara, while the third growled at Tony.
“Quiet, Luciano.” Cara gave the Chihuahua-terrier mix a pat, then scratched the poodle’s ears. “Good boy, Placido.”
Then she set off down the grand hallway, ducking as squawking parakeets rushed overhead. Potted plants taller than Tony lined the halls, turning the place into a jungle — and hiding the cracks in the plaster too.
Tony looked around, without giving anything away. Was he impressed by the three-story frescoes in the grand staircase or dismayed by the paint flaking away?
When the parakeets made another pass, Tony ducked. “What’s with the birds?”
Cara laughed. “The birds, the dogs, the cats — Grazia says she likes company. Plus, they’re like the Bremen Town Musicians — they gang up to keep bad guys away. Of course, there’s not really much to steal here, unless you could steal the house itself.”
That was only half true, but still. The building, like much of Venice, was a shadow of its former glory. Aside from some paintings and jewelry…
She halted the thought there, considering the gem Grazia had loaned her for the ball. That topaz had to be worth a fortune. Did Grazia keep such treasures hidden behind plants, too? She hoped not.
Otherwise, there wasn’t much of monetary value in the place. But when it came to atmosphere and faded grandeur, it was hard to beat.
Three tight turns later, they reached the door to her apartment.
“Be warned,” she announced. “It’s somewhere between shabby and chic.”
“Like every other building in Venice these days.”
“Was it different when you were growing up?”
“More shabby than chic back then.”
She pushed the door open and entered her living/dining room. The walls were bare brick, the floors raw wood. But the appliances and lighting were mostly new, and a huge arched window overlooked the canal.
She held back the curtain and motioned him over. “It may not be the Grand Canal, but I love this view.”
He stood by her shoulder, gazing out. “Better than the Grand Canal.”
She took a deep breath. They were so alike — preferring quieter, more modest places to grand, glitzy hotspots.
She turned, intending to sweep past him and into her bedroom for the clothes she’d come for. But her legs refused to take her a step farther, and she stood gazing into his honest, leonine eyes.
All her life, she’d been surrounded by dragon shifters — fiery, excitable souls who were twice as outgoing as she was. She’d come to Venice for the company of fellow felines, only to conclude that Venice’s shifters were a little too self-absorbed for her. Of course, cats tended to be that way — all that grooming, all that strutting around — but Venice’s lions took it all a step too far.
Tony, on the other hand… He was quiet without being reclusive. Proud without being haughty. Assertive without being pushy. And those eyes…
Like sweet, wild honey, her lion purred.
A hum set into her ears, and warmth flowed through her veins, just like all the other times they’d stood close. But this time, they were finally alone.
Tony’s eyes dropped to her lips, and her lion nearly purred, I was thinking the same thing.
When his mouth cracked open, she couldn’t help but imagine his kiss. And when his hands balled into fists, she did the same, resisting the urge to touch him.
But why not touch? Why not kiss?
It was hard to come up with a reason with her mind so foggy with desire. She found herself laying a hand on his broad chest and inching closer. Tony slid a hand around her waist at the very same moment, and it felt so good, she could have cooed.
Finally, she brushed her lips over his. Research, she’d call it.
But, wow. Of all the research she’d done in her life, this certainly took the cake. Within the space of three thrumming heartbeats, a light brush of lips turned into a long, hungry kiss. So deep, it stifled her needy whimper, which was a damn good thing. She pressed closer, desperate for more of his body against hers.
Then she sucked in a deep breath. God, was she really going to do this?
Chapter Eleven
Cara pressed her chest against Tony’s, nearly giving in to desire. But then a whisper ghosted through her mind.
Destiny.
Faint warning alarms cut through her inner fog, and she blinked. Destiny?
All her life, she’d been taught to revere that mysterious force, especially when it came to finding a mate. But there was a darker side to destiny that she’d observed firsthand. Not all the women who attended self-defense classes at her uncle’s gym were being proactive. Some came with injuries — physical or psychological — inflicted by the very ones they thought they loved.
And that wasn’t just humans. It happened in the shifter world too. Her own sister had fallen head over heels for a man she was sure was her mate, only for things to degenerate to the point of abuse. Luckily, her sister had the sense — and three protective brothers — to get r
id of that guy and move on. But not everyone was so lucky, and not everyone had a chance to rebuild after their mistakes.
That was something Cara had never understood — why destiny was kind to some, cruel to others.
And what about her? Which face would destiny show?
She gulped and pulled away, just in case.
Tony blinked, disoriented. Then he slid his hands to her shoulders and whispered, “A wise woman once told me, if it’s love, it’s love. Who are we to mess with that?”
She ran her hands up his arms, tempted to dive back in where they’d left off.
The bed’s right there, her lion pointed out. No need to go far. No need to overthink.
“You know this is destiny,” Tony murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. “It has to be.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, it is. But… Well… That worries me.”
“You don’t trust destiny?”
“Do you?”
He thought it over for a while, then finally admitted, “I’m not sure.”
“Neither am I. And that’s the point. I want my life to be what I want it to be, not what someone — or something — decides it must be. The same goes for a partner for life. I want to choose him, not to have him be chosen for me.”
“What kind of man would you choose, then?”
That was easy. “Someone kind. Respectful. Fascinating.” She bit her lip before she slipped and said, Someone like you. “Someone I get to know and fall in love with — all the good, and all the bad.”
He crooked an eyebrow. “You want an imperfect man?”
“That would make him a good match for me.”
He shook his head. “Imperfections? I haven’t found any yet.”
“That’s the thing. Would you really want to wait until it’s too late to discover them?”
He hesitated, giving her all the answer she needed.
“I wouldn’t,” she concluded. “Destiny plays games, and not all of them are fun.”
Slowly, he nodded. Obviously, he’d learned that lesson the hard way. “Destiny tests us. Madonna, does she test us.”
She cupped his cheek. “Believe me, I’m tempted. So, so tempted. But I’m careful too. Look at Fiorina.”
He raised one eyebrow in a question, making her lioness coo.
“Destiny gives, and it takes away. It thrusts people into situations they’re not suited for.” She motioned in the direction of the Guardians’ palace. “Fiorina is trying so hard, but she’s just not cut out for the job.”
Tony nodded sadly. “She’s not. She needs you.”
Cara sighed and turned to the window. “That’s the thing. There’s a time and place for everything. I loved being an au pair — for that one year, a decade ago. I never planned to make it a career.”
Still, Tony persisted. “Fiorina did great at that meeting yesterday. You give her confidence.” Then he grinned. “Did you see Ercole’s face when she spoke up?”
Cara sighed. Ercole had turned beet red when Fiorina had contradicted his motion to bring the meeting of the arts committee to a quick close.
But there’s still so much to discuss, she’d said in a soft, apologetic voice. We haven’t gotten to the report on the church restoration or the proposal for more arts in local schools.
Cara had just about done a fist pump, but Ercole had not been pleased. Clearly, he saw the Fire Maiden’s role as a purely ceremonial one without any real influence — especially influence that might rival his.
Cara exhaled. “It was kind of gratifying, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing. They’ll only try to control her more. And they resent me. Like I’m dangerous or something. But really… Do they want a Fire Maiden or a puppet?”
“They want to maintain power.”
For a moment, they both went quiet. Then Tony wrapped his hands gently around hers — and God, that felt so nice. “Who knows? Maybe Fiorina will surprise everyone. Even destiny.”
“I’d be all for that. But what if destiny is just playing another game? Look at what Fiorina went through as a kid. Hell, look at what it did to you.”
The shine went out of his eyes, and she couldn’t help but grip his hands. “Like I said, I’m tempted. But I don’t want to follow fate blindly.” She tried a little smile. “No matter how great the guy it brings me may be.”
His lips quirked. “Great? If you think that, you may really be blind. But I’m fine with you being deluded…”
She laughed, then cupped his cheek. “That’s what I mean. If I’m blinded by love, let it be for the right reasons.”
“I hate to say it, but you can’t fight destiny.”
One of Grazia’s parrots was preening in the open doorway, and it cackled an echo. “Destino…”
Cara pursed her lips. “Why not?”
His eyes showed the pain of firsthand experience. “Resisting destiny makes sense when it involves bad things. But why fight the good?”
Her heart soared. The man had been through so much, and yet he had faith — in destiny and in her. Still, she couldn’t shake the thought of her sister, whose eyes so often went hazy with regret.
She stroked his cheek. “I know you’re one of those good things. What I’m not sure of is what destiny has up its sleeve. Where is this all leading? You… Me… Fiorina… The Guardians…”
He squeezed her hands, and for the next moment, they gazed silently into each other’s eyes.
“No one ever knows.” he finally whispered. Then he smiled. “But how about a kiss anyway? One we’re in charge of, not destiny.”
Cara laughed and slowly slid her arms around his shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”
Tony grinned, making her heart flutter. “Me too.”
Slowly, they pressed in for another kiss — a more cautious, controlled one. And as before, her toes curled in delight at his taste. His warmth. His…his…everything.
See? her lioness sniffed. It’s the real thing.
Somewhere down the hallway, a clock struck the hour, setting Grazia’s dogs into a frenzy. Tony sighed and pulled Cara into a hug, pressing his cheek against hers.
“May I make a suggestion?” he whispered.
Her chin bobbed against his shoulder in a nod.
“We take it one step at a time. On our own terms.”
She bit her lip, wanting it so desperately, but afraid too. Where did destiny’s games end and her own desires begin? Still, she nodded.
Then the clock bonged again, and she jerked away. “God, the time. We’d better go.”
Tony released her reluctantly. “Back to business?”
She started hurrying around the small apartment, grabbing her things. Yes, back to business, because that was easier to navigate than her own feelings.
Five minutes later, they were paddling back toward the Palazzo Rigoni — via the scenic route. Why not stretch out the time she had with Tony while she could?
Her lion grumbled. We could have been spending this time in bed.
She paddled steadily, keeping her eyes on her surroundings instead of Tony. Well, she tried to keep her eyes off him, but every once in a while, she couldn’t resist. And when their eyes met…
Tingles zipped through her veins, and her heart sped up a little bit.
A few minutes later, they rounded another tight corner, and Tony suddenly stiffened.
Cara cut off her next stroke, letting the oar drag over the water. “What’s wrong?”
Tony sat still as a statue, totally alert. Then he rolled his shoulders and faked a casual tone. “Nothing. Sorry.”
“Nothing?”
He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “That’s the Fellini Palace.”
Her stomach knotted as she followed his gesture to a magnificent ochre-colored building.
“Fiorina used to tell me about the wonderful house she grew up in,” she said, hushed. She looked over the ornate windows, wondering which had been Fiorina’s bedroom. Then she shivered. “I can’t imagine what that night must h
ave been like for her — or for you.”
Tony spoke in the same tight tone. “It was a job. A job that went wrong.”
Cara deliberated whether to keep drifting, giving them both time to work through their thoughts, or to hurry along and avoid delving too deep into the past. In the end, she had no choice when a long barge chugged slowly across the intersection ahead, blocking their way.
She frowned. Was that coincidence, or was fate exercising its power again?
They drifted along wordlessly. The canal was narrow and silent, giving her an eerie feeling of sliding into the past.
“We entered from the street side, then climbed the main stairs,” Tony whispered. “Fabricio’s study was up there…”
Cara followed his eyes upward, gripping her oar hard.
“Fabricio told me to protect the children, so I ran downstairs…”
Cara’s breath caught as Tony told the chilling tale in a whisper that barely reached her ears.
“I beat Caselli — Tiberio’s man — to the children, and then helped them to the boat… Là.” There. They drifted past a small, derelict dock beside an arched doorway of the palace. “Fidelio was waiting in the boat. I remember handing Fiorina across. She was so light. So scared…”
They both craned their necks as the gondola drifted past. Then Cara shook her head. “Poor Fiorina. Poor Amalia. How horrible.”
No wonder Fiorina’s mother had left Venice two days earlier, citing memories too painful to bear. Her sister, Ismerelda, had helped with the arrangements and promised to watch over Fiorina. Still, Amalia had made Cara promise to get Fiorina out of the city at the first sign of trouble.
Cara’s throat went dry. So much responsibility. What if she failed?
Then she balled her fists, growing angry. “All that because of Tiberio. What did he have against Fabricio, anyway?”
Tony shrugged. “Same old story — power. Fabricio was initiating reforms that would prevent a powerful Guardian like Tiberio from consolidating power.”
“Did those reforms pass?”
Tony shook his head. “I don’t think so.”