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He stood up and reached down to pull her to her feet. “I knew it was time that we returned to the sea where we belonged.”

“But why shipbuilding? Why not exploring or trading?”

He shook his head. “We’ve talked enough. Go to bed.”

Sanchia felt a sharp thrust of disappointment. For the first time since she had met him, Lion was becoming more human and less the powerful enigma to her. She was reluctant to let that fleeting glimpse of him out of her sight for fear it would fade away. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Neither am I.” He added bluntly, “But my body is readying and if you don’t want to take me, then leave me now.” He smiled faintly as he saw her eyes widen. “Did you think I no longer lusted for you? It’s always with me when you are near. You must accept that too.”

“I must accept only what I wish to accept.”

“What you choose to accept,” he amended with soft emphasis. “I can make you ‘wish’ to accept me.”

She gazed up at him, feeling a familiar stirring between her thighs.

No, she would not feel like this. She was no longer his leman and must not yield him any response or he would seize on it.

“Then I choose not to accept you. I don’t want—” She broke off as she met his knowing gaze. “Release me, Lion.”

“Come to my bed, Sanchia.”

“I cannot.”

“And I will not.”

She felt a surge of desperation as she looked at him.

His expression was without mercy, completely implacable.

She wished she had gone to her cabin as he had bade her when he had first come on deck.

Before he had shown her comfort, before he had let her glimpse the raw brutality of the life that had carved those jagged edges and helped to make him what he was.

Now, though she could not condone, she could understand and, through that understanding, she was drawn to him.

“I won’t stay in Genoa, you know. I’ll run away from you. ”

He stiffened. “Don’t be foolish. You’ll be safe in Genoa. Damari won’t trouble himself to go so far to seek you out, and I’ll make sure you’re settled in comfortable lodgings before I leave.”

“And when you return?” Sanchia shook her head. “If you want a strumpet, go back to Giulia Marzo and free me.”

“I won’t free you.”

“Then you’ll have to send someone to hunt me down. I won’t be here when you return.” She gazed at him beseechingly. “Why will you not free me? You said you wouldn’t be able to bear slavery yourself, that you would run away.”

He stiffened. “You know the punishment I could mete out for such a crime?”

“You think I’m afraid of punishment?” She smiled bitterly. “I’ve learned to deal with pain; Damari was an excellent tutor.” She shook her head. “And you would not hurt me.”

“You’re very sure.”

“Yes, so do not threaten what you won’t execute, Lion. I do not fear you any longer.”

Lion’s expression reflected both anger and frustration.

“Perhaps I’ll have to change my ways. I’ve obviously become too predictable.

” He turned on his heel and strode across the deck.

“You’re a very troublesome woman.” He yelled to the seaman at the tiller, “Turn the ship around, dammit. We’re returning to Pisa. ”

“Pisa.” Sanchia gazed at him with the same astonishment shown by the sailor at the helm, who was hurrying to do Lion’s bidding. “We’re only a day away from Genoa.”

“And you’ve just told me you’ll run away from Genoa as soon as I sail out of the harbor.” His lips tightened. “So I’m keeping you with me.”

“In Pisa?”

“I’m going to Pisa only to dock. I can’t stay there. I have to make sure Damari hasn’t launched an attack on Mandara.”

“But Lorenzo said that was extremely unlikely.”

“Mandara belongs to me. I have to be sure.”

“Then you’re taking me to Mandara?”

“You’ve given me no choice.”

The moonlight was strong and full on his face, and Sanchia had never seen a more grim expression on it.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m taking you to Mandara.”

“There’s Mandara, Sanchia.” Lorenzo reined in his horse and leaned forward in the saddle, his gaze intent on the walled city in the distance. An odd eagerness warmed the usual remoteness of his features. “It’s not as far as it looks. We should be there within thirty minutes.”

Lion cast him a less than pleased glance over his shoulder. “Which should make you exceedingly happy.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it does bring me a good deal of satisfaction.” For once there was no mockery in Lorenzo’s voice. “Though I’m not at all sure there is any such emotion as happiness.” He shrugged. “But there are many words that have no meaning for me.”

“It’s beautiful.” From this slight rise in the foothills Sanchia could see both the walled city of Mandara and, to the north, a large vineyard in the valley.

Her gaze shifted to the castle that dominated the city.

Her grip unconsciously tightened on the reins and the mare tossed her head in protest. Sanchia deliberately forced herself to relax.

She should not be intimidated at the thought of meeting Lion’s mother.

The woman posed no threat to her. Lion had told Sanchia that she was not even to go to the castle but to occupy a small house in the town itself.

It would be obvious to the Lady Caterina that Sanchia’s place in Lion’s life was too minuscule to be of any importance to her, and she would doubtless ignore her.

She would find a way to leave Mandara. A surge of dismay accompanied the thought as she looked at the high stone walls of the city. Escaping from Lion had proved impossible since they had landed in Pisa and might prove equally difficult now that she was to enter his own domain.

“Give it up, Sanchia.”

She turned to see Lion’s gazed fixed on her face. “You’ll not leave Mandara.”

“You’re wrong. I’ll find a way.” Sanchia’s gaze shifted back to the castle. “You forget that I’m a very good thief. You’ll have difficulty keeping me locked up.”

“I don’t have to keep you locked up. No keys are needed here.

You’ll notice the moat and drawbridge and the city gates are guarded by my own men.

” He smiled pleasantly. “And I’ll be careful to tell those guards that I’ll be forced to emasculate them if they allow you to step outside the gates of Mandara. ”

“I think that should prove more than persuasive,” Lorenzo said mildly. “Lion’s right. Give it up, Sanchia.”

She didn’t answer as she spurred her horse down the incline toward the distant city.

The gates of Mandara were flung open when they were still some distance away, and two riders rode out of the city. One rider on a huge gray horse immediately spurred ahead of the other and approached them at a hard gallop.

“It seems we’re to be honored by a personal escort,” Lorenzo murmured. “The Lady Caterina.”

Sanchia tensed, her gaze on the rider galloping toward them.

She could not distinguish the woman’s features from this distance, but there was no doubt this was an illustrissima , a great lady.

She rode with her spine straight, her carriage indomitable and with the same driving force and skill as her son, Lion.

Since the lady was on horseback it was difficult to determine her size, but she appeared tall and slim, her shoulders broad beneath a crimson velvet cloak.

“Courage, Sanchia.” Lorenzo’s gaze never left the approaching rider. “At least, she’s left her mace at home.”

“Sanchia won’t need courage,” Lion said as he urged Tabron forward a few paces. “My mother will do her no harm.”

Lorenzo snorted derisively but said no more.

Caterina Andreas reined in her gray stallion a few yards from where Lion sat waiting and Sanchia unconsciously braced herself. Lion’s mother needed no weapons to impress and intimidate.

The lady Caterina’s features were too strong to be considered beautiful, her jaw too long, her chin too firm, her brows a feminine version of Lion’s black slashing ones.

She had the bold, authoritative manner of a man, yet there was nothing masculine about the sculptured beauty of her high cheekbones nor the dauntless spirit in her fine dark eyes.

Her glossy black hair was threaded with silver but her face was firm and virtually unlined.

Her keen gaze raked Lion’s face. “You are well?”

Lion nodded. “Damari?”

“He did not march on Mandara.” She shrugged.

“The cur would not dare. He prefers to bribe others to do his villainy. Marco sent inquiries to Pisa and we received word that after Damari learned you had set sail for Genoa he left to seek out Borgia.” A sudden glint of humor appeared in her eyes.

“No doubt to make excuses as to why he cannot produce what he promised. I’d like to have been there when he attempted to explain to his lord how he could not hold on to the Wind Dancer against only three men. ”

“And one woman,” Lorenzo added softly.

Caterina’s gaze moved to Lorenzo’s face and she nodded formally. “Lorenzo.”

He inclined his head in a mocking bow. “My lady.”

Then Caterina turned to Sanchia. “You are the slave Sanchia?”

Sanchia drew herself up. “I am Sanchia. I am no longer a slave.”

Caterina glanced at Lion. “You freed her? Marco said you had no intention of freeing her.”

“I didn’t free her.” Lion added dryly, “She appears to think saying the words makes it true.”

“The debt is paid,” Sanchia said. “I am free.”

“What does she do here?” Caterina asked Lion. “You were to leave her in Genoa. Marco said—”

“She’s here and that’s the end of it,” Lion cut in harshly. “It will make no difference.”

Caterina’s gaze narrowed on his face. “You do not bring her to the castle?”

Lion shook his head. “She stays in the town.”

“Unless you want to honor her with an invitation as your guest,” Lorenzo said. “I’m sure Lion would give in to your urging. He’s such a dutiful son.”

“No!” Lion said. “Stay out of this, Lorenzo. This isn’t your concern.”

“Our Messer Vasaro seldom lets that consideration stop him.” Caterina asked with dangerous softness, “Is this your doing, Lorenzo?”

Lorenzo merely smiled at her.