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Fifteen

Y ou appear to be looking for someone, my lady. May I be of some small service?”

Caterina whirled to face Lorenzo. “You know very well who I’m looking for, you demon from hell. Where are they?”

“Lion and Sanchia? I have no idea. How many hundreds of chambers does this huge castle contain? However, wherever they are I’m sure they’re in no danger of being disturbed. Lion is your son and would have provided against that possibility.”

Caterina’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You saw them leave the hall?”

Lorenzo nodded. “I spared a glance or two for them when I wasn’t looking at you. By the way, you do dance the moresca splendidly. Your vigor gave the steps a certain glorious—”

“I should not have danced at all. I should have been more watchful. I saw what was going on between them earlier this evening.”

“Do you really think you could have stopped Lion? You were fortunate he didn’t act sooner.

We both know it was only a question of time until he broke free of the chains you wound around him.

” He smiled faintly. “No, you should have done exactly what you did do tonight: smiled and danced and made us all happy to see your joy.”

She gazed at him, startled. “Happy?”

He looked surprised himself. “Did I say that? How very common of me.” He thought about it. “But perhaps it comes closest to what I was feeling as I watched you.”

She frowned suspiciously. “Do you seek to distract me?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” she said slowly. “Never.”

“Nor shall I ever.” He turned. “And now I’m going for a walk in your lovely garden. Would you like to follow me or do you intend to tear through the castle, searching chamber to chamber for your missing offspring? It would do no good and make you look exceedingly undignified.”

She hesitated, glancing around the crowded room.

“They will not miss you as long as the wine is flowing and the musicians play.” He added softly, “And I will miss you if you don’t join me, Caterina.”

He turned, walked away from her and was soon lost to view in the throng.

Caterina stood very still. The hall was suddenly too hot, the music too loud, the company far too boring to tolerate.

He would miss her if she did not come to him. Lorenzo had never before indicated her company was important enough to him to miss.

She started slowly across the hall, nodding and smiling as she skirted the dancers on her way to the garden where Lorenzo waited.

Lion set Sanchia down before turning and slamming the chamber door. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he leaned back against the door. “Dio , I think my heart may burst. You’re heavier than you look.”

She gazed at him in astonishment and then burst into laughter. Those blunt, unvarnished words were so typical of Lion. “You didn’t have to carry me up those thousands of stairs. We must be at the very top of the castle.”

“We are.” He turned and shot the bolt. “This is the tower where we keep the Wind Dancer.” He turned to face her.

“And I was afraid if I made you walk up all those stairs you might change your mind.” He crossed to the stone fireplace and knelt to light the logs laid in readiness.

“You’re already having second thoughts, aren’t you? ”

The wood caught, flared, revealing the broad, strong planes of his cheekbones, the glittering darkness of his eyes as he turned to look at her. She drew a deep breath. “I don’t think I had a first thought. I wasn’t thinking at all.”

“That was my intention.” He stood up and came toward her. “And I shall endeavor to make sure you remain in that state.”

She took a hurried step back. “Lion, this is not—”

“It is.” His hands cupped her cheeks and he tilted her face up to look into her eyes. “Trust me, cara.”

She could see in his eyes twin flames reflected from the fire. She felt helpless in her fascination.

“Is it so difficult to trust me?”

“Yes. I…I think I’ve had too much wine.”

“You’re not drunk.” His lips feathered her temple. “In vino veritas.”

But was that the truth? There was only chaos in what she was feeling. She was hot, tingling, as dizzy as when she was dancing the moresca .

“I like your gown. I knew you’d look wonderful in that color.” He pushed her away from him and took a step back. “Jade queen, shall we start our play?”

“But you always win.”

“Not this time.” He took off his black velvet jerkin and threw it aside. “This time we both win. Do you remember when I had you undress for me in the barn?”

She felt a tightening in her chest. “Yes.”

“You were frightened.” He took off his fine white linen shirt and dropped it on top of the jerkin.

He stood before her in only steel gray hose and calf-length black boots whose soft leather molded his legs with the same delineation as the hose.

“I wanted you to be frightened. I wanted you to be so afraid that you’d never forget you belonged to me. ”

The dark hair thatching his chest looked soft and springy and she felt a tingling in her hands. She wanted to touch him, run her fingers through that curly mat, explore the powerful muscles cording his chest and shoulders.

He took off his boots and began to untie the points of his hose. “You don’t look frightened now.”

But she was frightened. More frightened than she had been in the barn when she had acted on his command. Because she suddenly knew he wouldn’t command her now. What she did would be by her own will.

The steel gray hose were gone now and he was naked. “Come to me, cara.”

She couldn’t move. Her gaze traveled down his chest to the tightness of his muscular belly. Then down…

“You can’t be shy.” Lion stood with his legs apart, blatantly aroused, the essence of bold masculinity. “Attack, Sanchia, I stand defenseless.”

“But not weaponless,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on him in total absorption.

“Then let me sheath my weapon.” His eyes were suddenly glinting with humor. “You have the means. Do I have to come to you?” He held out his hand. “Cara?”

She took one step forward, then another, and suddenly she was directly in front of him.

He took her right hand and raised it slowly to his lips. He kissed her palm lingeringly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Square one, jade queen. Not so hard, was it?” He moved her hand to his chest and she felt the pounding of his heart beneath her palm.

“I belong to you.” He said softly. “Say it.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“It’s true, you know. I belong to you, just as you belong to me. Say it.”

“You…belong to me.”

“Forever.”

Stunned, she gazed speechlessly at him.

He pressed her palm harder against his chest. The beating of his heart seemed in some mysterious fashion to beat within her. “Forever, Sanchia.”

“It cannot be.”

“We will talk of it later.” He slid her hand slowly down his body to clasp it around his manhood. He held it there as a shudder racked through him. “Dear God, I can’t wait any longer. Will you take me into you?”

His face was drawn as if in pain, and she felt a sudden surge of tenderness that swept away her last reservations. Why was she hesitating when she had known when she left the hall she would not be able to stop herself from yielding? “I think I…must.”

“Thank the saints.” He took her hand from him and stepped forward, his hands on her gown. He stopped. “Remove it quickly or I swear I’ll have to push up your skirts and take you as I did on that pile of hay in the barn. Cristo , what I’d give for a bed at this moment.”

There was no furniture at all in the chamber, she realized as she glanced around dazedly, only a rug thrown down before the hearth.

“Hurry, I cannot wait long and my hands are shaking so that I can do nothing but fumble.”

Her hands were trembling, too, but she managed to strip off the gown and undershift. She was reaching down to take off her slippers when she felt his hands on her waist lifting her. “Clasp me,” he muttered. “Your legs…”

Her limbs encircled his hips and he was pressing against her, into her, with frantic urgency. He sank home.

Her neck arched back as she gave a low cry. Ridged fullness. Deep. So deep.

His palms cupped her buttocks and held her to him, forcing her to take all of him. She heard him mutter something beneath his breath. A curse, a prayer…She could not tell which it was.

“Hold on.” His palms kneaded the rounded flesh of her buttocks as he stood still, his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring with each breath. “Tighter.”

“I cannot…” Still, she tried, and heard him groan deep in his throat as if he were in agony.

Then he was sinking to his knees on the floor, lowering her so that her naked back rested on the rug as he plunged in and out of her body in a rhythm both primitive and forceful.

Completion. Joining. Sanchia bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as jolt after jolt of sensation rocked through her.

His hands were petting her, his fingers pressing, rotating.

“Sanchia, it must…” His hips moved back and forth in a flurry of short, hard thrusts. “May I give to you? Please let…”

He was entreating her. The knowledge filled her with wonder. He moved with raw, blind sensuality, taking, giving and yet he was pleading with her for acceptance.

“Give…to me.” Her words were little more than a whisper as her limbs tightened strongly around his hips. “Give!” She arched up helplessly as the pleasure burst through her, spasming, exploding.

He pulled her upright on him again, crushing her close as his own pleasure peaked and then soared.

He rocked her back and forth, breathing low, whispering love words into her ear. His lips moved yearningly across her cheek to the corner of her lips. “Sanchia, did I not tell you? We must have this. How can we live without it?”

At the moment she didn’t think she could live without it. She was part of him. He was part of her. Pleasure…possession…passion…Nothing had ever seemed more natural than having Lion within her, having his hands caressing her naked back, having his lips on her lips.