Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Byron stepped back courteously to allow her entry. Celt inspected their visitor and turned to follow his mistress into the large bathroom, making it clear he was on the alert. The closed door didn’t present a problem, the borzoi merely turned the knob with his strong jaws and disappeared into the steam.

  “Antonietta is taking a bath. I think it will help to calm her and make it easier for her to talk with her family,” Byron volunteered. He followed the borzoi across the room, pulling the door closed to allow Antonietta complete privacy. He was hoping it would give Tasha time to recover. She was so pale he was afraid he might have to deal with an old-fashioned swoon.

  “I had no idea you were here, or I wouldn’t have interrupted.” She glanced at him from under long lashes. There was a mixture of weariness and relief in her dark eyes. “Antonietta was devastated over what happened, you know, and she blamed herself for leaving you when you were so injured. Paul doesn’t remember why they left either.”

  She sighed and paced away from him, putting distance between them to help recover from the shock. Tasha always found Byron’s presence unsettling, and up close, in her cousin’s bedroom, she found he seemed more powerful than ever. Tasha cleared her throat nervously. “I know I haven’t been very welcoming to you, but it is more than obvious Antonietta cares for you, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to start over.”

  Byron regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Her words had been forced out, and there was a small underlying spurt of distaste he caught in her tone. “Why the turnaround? You do not need to pretend with me in order to save Paul from prison. The incident will not be reported to the authorities. You have your cousin to thank for that.”

  A small smile tugged unexpectedly at the corners of Tasha’s mouth. “You don’t think much of any of us, do you?”

  Byron didn’t answer her but crossed the room to the stained glass window. “Why do you dislike me so much, Tasha?”

  She laughed softly, but there was little humor in her tone. “Because you are the first real threat to ever come to us.”

  He swung around, frowning at her, his dark eyes puzzled. “I am not a threat to you. You are Antonietta’s cousin. Unless you sought to harm her in some way, I would do my utmost to protect you. Why would you think me a threat?”

  She turned her head away from him quickly but not before he caught the sheen of tears shimmering in her eyes. “That’s so like you.” She waved a dismissing hand.

  “Tell me.” This time his voice was low and compelling. If she didn’t cooperate with a slight push, he had no problems pushing past the natural barriers in her mind to find her thoughts. As far as he was concerned, Antonietta’s family deserved little consideration.

  “Look at me, Byron. You’ve never looked at me. I’m beautiful, my body is absolutely perfect.” There was bitterness in her voice. “That’s all anyone sees when they look at me. They never look past it to see me. And if they did, I’m not talented like Antonietta or brainy like Paul. I can’t have children like Marita. The moment Christopher finds out I’m barren, he’ll get rid of me or take a mistress to have his child. Even if he didn’t, the moment my looks go, and they will eventually, he will abandon me. Nonno barely tolerates me, and Paul is too busy feeling sorry for himself. Franco doesn’t notice me because, why bother? I can’t talk about stocks and the business to him.” She picked up her cousin’s perfume bottle and inhaled the fragrance. “I only matter to Antonietta. She can’t see the way I look, and she loves me for myself. Unconditionally. I never even had that from my parents. Of course you’re a threat to me. She’s actually interested in you. Really interested, not some passing whim.”

  Tasha did turn to face him then. “I can see you’re a dangerous man, anyone can see it. It’s all over you, yet I know you’d never hurt her. But you’d take her away from us. Is it any wonder I fight for my own survival? Without her, I have no one.” There was no self-pity in her voice, only stark truth.

  “I think you are selling yourself short, Tasha. It is true that I have not seen you as a person other than Antonietta’s cousin. I have been rather obsessed with Antonietta since the first moment I laid eyes on her. I knew immediately she was born for me, my other half.” He smiled at her, a genuine smile. “Please forgive me for not taking the time to know you. Antonietta is my world, and that means anyone in her world is in mine also. I have no intention of doing anything that would make her unhappy, and you are very important to her.”

  “You do have a certain charm, I can see why she might have fallen hard.” Tasha made an effort to smile at him, in spite of her feelings.

  “And you have many admirable traits you do not seem to regard as assets. You are wonderful with the children. They prefer you to their own mother.”

  “I haven’t quite figured out Marita yet,” Tasha admitted. “I think about her a lot and wonder why she isn’t happy. If I had the children and a devoted husband, I wouldn’t need anything else.”

  “Not even money?” His eyebrow shot up.

  “I’ve always had money, it’s just been a part of my life. I don’t know how not to have it, but it’s never made me happy,” Tasha conceded.

  “So your greatest wish is not to have more money?” There was a certain soft note to his voice. A mesmerizing, pure tone.

  Tasha tilted her head toward him, her eyes suddenly dreamy. “My greatest wish is to have a child. I want a baby to hold in my arms. Just to love. I would have made a good mother. I would have liked the chance.”

  “I have missed much by my ignorance, Tasha. You are a special woman.”

  Tasha flashed a tentative smile. “Just for that, I suppose I could call a truce between us.”

  “I would very much appreciate that.”

  “Grazie, for saying I am important to Antonietta.” She looked around the room. “How in the world did you manage to get in here without any of us seeing you? I think that’s one of the reasons everyone is a little afraid of you. No one ever sees you come and go.”

  He grinned at her. “Like the proverbial ghost.”

  Tasha took a deep breath. “Do you really think Paul was trying to kill Antonietta? Do you think he’s capable of murdering her and Nonno because of a gambling debt?” Her questions came out in a little rush.

  Byron hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “People do things they would not ordinarily do when they are very afraid. It is possible someone has threatened his life and he is desperate. I would hope not, but you know him better than anyone. What do you think?”

  “I think I wish we were discussing Marita, not my brother. That one is so hungry for money and social position. She can’t even see what she has, she’s so greedy for more.”

  It was a typical Tasha comment, one Byron would have expected of her, but he felt he knew her a little better, and she simply said things for effect, not necessarily because she thought they were so. It was either a habit or a protection. Byron couldn’t decide which, and it didn’t matter.

  Tasha sighed. “Paul used to have the sweetest heart. I hardly recognize him anymore. He takes advantage of everyone.” She looked down at her hands. “If you had known him before, you could never have considered that he would try to harm Antonietta.”

  “Yet you are considering the possibility that Paul might choose to harm her now. Tell me this: If something happened to your grandfather, who inherits?”

  “The bulk of his fortune would go to Antonietta. For all I know, it could already be in her name, but the rest of us would receive several million each.”

  “Several million each? That much? All of you?”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t know exactly what Nonno’s worth, but it’s massive. He’s quite wealthy. All of us will receive enough for a lifetime, even an excessive one.”

  “So everyone would benefit financially if Don Giovanni died? And if something were to happen to Antonietta? Is there a will?”

  “Of course. A Scarletti doesn’t turn around without a will.” Tasha looked uncomfortable. “I don�
��t really know who would inherit, but it is possible most of it would come to me.”

  “I see.”

  Two bright spots of color stained Tasha’s cheeks. Her enormous eyes flashed fire at him. “How dare you! What are you implying? Are you accusing me now?”

  He raised his hand to calm her volatile nature. “I was merely gathering facts. I have no idea who would want to harm your cousin, but I doubt very much if you would do such a thing for money.” Jealousy maybe. But not money. Byron thought it prudent to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “What is going on out here?” Antonietta swept out of her private bath, fragrant and alluring.

  Bryon’s breath caught in his lungs. Everything about Antonietta glowed from the inside out. He took her hand, brought her fingertips to his mouth. “Tasha and I are getting to know one another. We have, for your sake, decided to call a truce.”

  Tasha went right past Byron and gathered her cousin to her. “I was worried about you, Toni.”

  “I was worried about me, too,” Antonietta admitted. “I honestly felt if Byron was gone, I couldn’t continue.” She hugged Tasha back, feeling the trembling in her cousin’s body.

  “You are far too sensitive, Antonietta. I should have taken precautions,” Byron said. “Another Scarletti gift.” The first blood exchange had bound them dangerously close. If one had nearly made her mad with grief, what repercussions would the second exchange bring? He frowned, suddenly worried.

  “Byron is obviously alive and well,” Tasha pointed out. “You can’t make yourself sick with grief like this again, Toni. And poor Nonno is beside himself. You must go to him, or he’ll never go to bed.”

  “I will, Tasha. Until I knew Bryon was safe and out of danger, I couldn’t bear to look upon anyone. And I need to check on Margurite, too. Is she happier now that she is home? Is she better tonight, Tasha? In less pain?”

  “She’s very restless. Marita has been harping on her that Scarlettis do not cry, that we don’t make a fuss, that she should take the time confined as she is to study and fill her mind with great things. What do you suppose is wrong with that woman?” Tasha was clearly exasperated. “I’ve spent several hours reading to Margurite and playing games, but Marita won’t even allow television. She wants Margurite to read. Franco can’t even dissuade her, and he tried, I heard them argue. If you would look at her again and see if you can speed her healing, it would be wonderful.”

  Byron was intrigued with the way they took the Scarletti gifts for granted. It was a natural part of their lives, just as his gifts were. They were comfortable with the use of them.

  “Byron has some ability in the area of healing. He’s the one who attended my shoulder, even when he was in such danger,” Antonietta said. “Maybe between the two of us, we can speed her recovery. As for Marita, she seems to be obsessed with Margurite becoming a great scholar and is forgetting to allow her to be a child. She was never like this before.”

  “That’s true,” Tasha agreed. She sighed. “Honestly, Antonietta, everything seems to be falling apart all of a sudden. Tonight, I asked Helena to have a tray brought for Nonno, and he seemed reluctant to eat the food. He was muttering to himself, and I swear, he said I was trying to poison him. He denied it when I confronted him, but I swear that’s what he said, and he didn’t touch the food. The crazy part is, Paul did the exact same thing. I took the tray up to his room myself, and he threw it against the wall and said I was trying to poison him.” She waved her arms. “I don’t know how you put up with them all. Two minutes later, he was acting like I dropped the tray.”

  “Why would you take the food personally to your grandfather and cousin?” Byron demanded. “You have never done such a thing in your life.”

  Tasha glared at him. “I was trying to take Antonietta’s place. Nonno was so upset, and he hadn’t eaten all day, so I insisted on a food tray for him.”

  “Where is the food? Was it taken to the kitchen?” Byron nearly growled the question. Antonietta turned her head sharply toward him in inquiry.

  Tasha shrugged. “How would I know? I certainly didn’t clean either mess myself, I had Helena handle it. I doubt if they kept the food. It must have gone in the garbage can.” She lifted her eyebrow. “Surely you’re not hungry. And if you are, please don’t eat from the trash. We do have decent food elsewhere.”

  “Your truces do not last long, do they Tasha?”

  “Not when you behave like a moron.” She looked down her nose at him. “I often do good deeds around the palazzo. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Antonietta decided to intervene. “What of Enrico? Has there been any word on our missing chef?” She casually tucked her hand into Byron’s arm to hold him to her side. The moment he had heard of Don Giovanni’s and Paul’s strange behavior, she sensed he knew what their actions meant. Tell me.

  Let me go to the kitchen and do a little investigating first.

  You think the food had poison in it, don’t you? How could either of them possibly know such a thing?

  “Enrico is still missing. The wonderful captain was here, but of course we couldn’t allow him to know what had transpired, so we entertained him briefly, allowed him to search Enrico’s room again, and he left.” There was regret in Tasha’s voice. “He’s quite nice, Antonietta. And he loves the opera. I told him that for your next performance, I would try to get him good seats, and he said only if I attended with him.”

  “Did you keep him away from Paul?”

  “Paul wouldn’t come out of his room except to speak with Don Giovanni. He wouldn’t see Franco or me, but Justine was in and out several times. I wasn’t about to allow the captain near him. Paul was so upset, I was afraid he’d turn himself in.” Tasha glanced warily at Byron. “You aren’t really going to go to the authorities, are you?”

  “No, Tasha, I have no intentions of turning your brother in.”

  “Grazie, you are a good man to be so kind.”

  “Do not mistake my intentions for kindness.” There was a distinct bite to Byron’s voice, and for a moment his teeth gleamed white like that of a wolf. A fierce flame burned in the depths of his eyes, giving his pupils the illusion of a fiery red.

  Tasha gasped and stepped away from him, her hand going to her throat protectively. She blinked the illusion away, feeling foolish when there were only Byron’s familiar dark eyes glinting at her. Watching her. Without blinking. Much like that of a predator. She shivered, afraid all over again.

  Beside Antonietta, Celt lowered his head, his eyes focusing on Byron, his hair up. The ever-present supreme hunter.

  Antonietta put her hand on Tasha’s shoulder. “What is it? And don’t say ‘Nothing.’” Gently she touched the dog’s head in a gesture meant to soothe. “Celt senses something. A wild animal perhaps.” Do you smell the cat, Byron?

  Tasha hesitated. “I’m being silly. For a moment Byron frightened me. He reminded me of a…” She trailed off. She could hardly say wolf.

  Byron bowed from the waist. “I did not mean to alarm you, Tasha. I just do not want you to get the wrong impression. Paul nearly killed Antonietta. If he is the one behind the attacks, he will not get away with it. I will see to it personally. And if he proves to be innocent and someone else has targeted her, I will find them.” Celt smells the shape-shifter in me. Do not worry. There is no danger near us.

  Byron wasn’t bragging, Tasha decided, he wasn’t even threatening. He meant every word and uttered each with absolute conviction. The thought set her heart pounding. There was retribution buried in his tone.

  “I will go down to the kitchen to investigate and then meet the two of you in Margurite’s room.” Celt, forgive me, my friend, the wolf comes out in me at the thought of Antonietta in danger. Byron placed his palm in front of the dog’s nose, allowing him to catch the mixed scent.

  The dog’s alert posture changed immediately, the tension draining from the animal, although he stayed protectively close to Antonietta. She stroked the dog’s head with caressing fingers. “Celt is
already such a part of my life, I can’t imagine what I did without him,” Antonietta said.

  “He’s so devoted to you,” Tasha observed, “but he’s so big and sort of scary. We’ve never had a dog in the palazzo. Margurite will love him. Is he good with children?”

  “Celt loves children. A borzoi is a great family addition. A companion and protector. Believe me, the children will come to love him,” Byron assured her. He reached out to scratch Celt’s ears. His hand brushed Antonietta’s. Instantly, electricity sizzled and arced between them. The sexual tension in the room was shattering.

  Antonietta rubbed her body along his, a contented cat, stretching leisurely. Byron bent his head to hers. Heat raced over Antonietta’s skin, spread through her body instantly. She wrapped her arms around Byron’s neck, her mouth melding to his. The world was gone in an instant. There was only heat and fire and the feel of his hard, masculine frame pressed so tightly to hers.

  Tasha’s gaze narrowed in disgust, bored into their backs. She made a soft hissing noise of distaste. Byron swung Antonietta around, moving her toward the stained glass window even as he seemed to be devouring her, feeding on her mouth with voracious hunger. Tasha blinked, and the couple was difficult to see. The moonlight hit the glass in some way that spread a hazy veil around Antonietta and Byron. Tasha curled her hand into a fist, her fingernails driving into her palm.

  She felt his eyes on her. Dark. Brooding. Filled with speculation. Engulfed in Byron’s arms, Antonietta couldn’t be seen, but his head went up alertly as if sensing danger. The hair on the back of her neck actually stood up in response to the intensity of his gaze. Tasha shivered and hurried to the door.

  “Are you coming, Toni? It’s so late, Nonno should already be in bed.”

  “Of course I’m coming.” There was a multitude of shared secrets in Antonietta’s voice. She kissed Byron again. “I won’t be long.”