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“Her papers and a bill of sale,” Lion said quickly. The terrified kitten had suddenly grown claws, he noticed with exasperation. In another minute she would have Ballano so enraged he would refuse to sell her just to have the pleasure of beating her senseless. “I have no more time.”

Giovanni cast a furious glance at Sanchia, then strode over to the scribe table and scrawled a few lines on the parchment lying on it. “There’s your bill of sale. She’s yours now.” He turned and strode to the door leading to his quarters. “I’ll get her papers from my chest.”

Elizabet was weeping softly, and Sanchia instinctively turned to comfort her. “It will be all right. I’ll find a way to take care of you.”

“But Sanchia, what can you do?”

Lion studied Sanchia. The fury illuminating Sanchia’s face was suddenly gone, and it gave him food for thought.

If he had allowed her defiance of Ballano to continue, the sale might well have fallen through.

Had the girl’s anger only been a pretense directed toward that aim?

“Yes, Sanchia, what can you do?” he ask silkily.

“I’m beginning to wonder who was the slave all these years you’ve been with Ballano. ”

She turned to look at him. “There was no question who was the slave,” she said bitterly.

“But you don’t deny you were pretending anger just now to get what you wanted.”

She shook her head. “No pretense. I was angry, but I wouldn’t have let it run free if I hadn’t thought it might keep Giovanni from selling me.”

“A dangerous device. He might have hurt you badly.”

“I would have healed. He wouldn’t have killed me while I still have value to him. He’s a fool, not a madman.”

“You appear to know him well. But you don’t know me at all. I’m not a fool, Sanchia.”

Sanchia shivered. “I did not think you a fool. I wouldn’t make that mistake.”

“Here it is.” Giovanni hurried toward them, a frayed leather folder in his hands. He handed the folder to Lion and received the purse of ducats in return. “I bought them both from a Spaniard who assured me they came of good strong stock. You’ve made a fine purchase.”

“An interesting one at any rate.” Lion was abruptly filled with disgust and an overwhelming urgency to be done with the man. “Go get your things, Sanchia. We’re leaving this place.”

Giovanni said quickly, “There’s nothing for her to get. Slaves don’t have possessions, my lord.”

Sanchia lifted shaking fingers to her throbbing temple, trying to think. “I can’t leave yet. There’s Elizabet.”

Giovanni’s gaze shifted to Elizabet. “Elizabet is no longer your concern. However, I may be able to use her. She keeps the shop clean and I’ll need someone to—”

“No,” Sanchia said flatly. “She isn’t going to stay here.”

“And where else would she go?” Giovanni asked. “I’ll give her a roof over her head and food for her belly. She can’t expect more. I may take Bartolomeo, too, but Piero will have to go. He’s too young to be of any help.”

“You’ll not keep any of them.” Sanchia turned to Elizabet. “Go find Bartolomeo and Piero and meet me in the piazza.”

Elizabet gazed at her in confusion.

“Hurry!” Sanchia gave her a little push. “All will be well.”

“Stay,” Giovanni ordered. “Obey me, Elizabet.”

Elizabet gave him a frightened glance and fled from the shop.

Giovanni began to curse vehemently and obscenely as he turned to Sanchia. “They’ll starve in the streets. You’ll see, you arrogant bitch.”

“No, they won’t. I’ll not let them starve.

” She gave him a level look over her shoulder as she moved toward the door.

“And I’ll not let them be used by you either.

I know what you’d do to them if I weren’t here.

Bartolomeo would soon be as much a slave to you as I was and Elizabet would become your whore.

I’ll see you burn in hell before I let that happen. ” She turned to Lion. “We can go now.”

“Thank you.” Heavy irony laced Lion’s tone. “May I remind you that it’s you who belongs to me and not I to you?” He followed her from the shop into the street.

“No reminder is necessary.” She drew her shawl closer to ward off the chill that came as much from the emotions storming through her as the coolness following the rain. She had to plan, she thought dully, but she was so exhausted and dazed it was difficult to think. “Why did you buy me?”

“Because it suited me, a whim perhaps.”

She shook her head. “You’re not an impulsive man. I don’t think you’d do anything without a reason.”

“You find me so easy to read?” Lion asked softly. “You’d be more clever to hide that ability.”

“I have to understand you.” She turned to look at him, desperation threading her voice.

“I have to try to see what you are and what you want so that I can give it to you. So that I can find a way…” She stopped and drew a shaky breath.

“Are you angry with me for stealing from you? Did you buy me so that you could torture me at your leisure?”

His lips tightened. “It doesn’t amuse me to torture children.”

“I’m not a child. I’ve reached my sixteenth year.”

A sudden glint of humor appeared in his eyes. “In that case, perhaps I’ll change my mind. I’ll have to see if I can’t rummage up a few instruments in the dungeon with which to torment you when we arrive at Mandara.”

“We’re leaving Florence?” She frowned. “That may present a problem.”

“My profound apologies. You must be sure to inform me if my plans further inconvenience you.” His sarcastic expression was quickly replaced by a grim look of warning. “We’re leaving Florence tomorrow, and I’d advise you not to defy me as you did your former master.”

“You’re not like Giovanni.” Her answer was as abstracted as her gaze. “But I have to know what you want from me.”

“It’s very simple. I want a slave who’ll obey my every demand without question. Why else would I have bought you?”

“I won’t kill for you.”

He lifted a brow. “If that’s your only reservation, I believe I can accept it.”

She braced herself and then said in a little rush, “I’ll make a bargain with you.”

“Everyone in Florence appears to want to bargain with me,” he said dryly. “I can see why it’s known as a city of merchants. But I feel bound to draw attention to the fact that I’ve no need to bargain with you. I’ve just paid fifty ducats for the doubtful privilege of owning you.”

“And you wouldn’t want to lose your money, would you?” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “If you’ll let me have seventy-five ducats, I’ll promise I won’t run away from you and I’ll serve you in any way you choose with complete loyalty. No matter what you ask of me.”

Lion went still. “A threat? Do you know the punishment for a runaway slave?”

“Yes.” Her voice was uneven. “But I’d still have to do it. I couldn’t leave Elizabet and the others here unprotected. They belong to me.”

He gazed at her a long moment and she could feel the perspiration bead on the back of her neck. Dio , she was taking a chance. She had known from the moment she had seen him in the piazza he was a dangerous man.

“What do you want to do with the money?” he asked.

“Ten ducats for Bartolomeo so he can apprentice for Messer Arcolo in his print shop. Arcolo is fair, and he has no sons to carry on the business. He’ll give Bartolomeo a chance to be more than an apprentice once he realizes what a hard worker he is.

Fifty ducats for Elizabet. Alessandro Benedetto, the baker’s son, would take her to wife, but his father won’t permit it unless she has at least a token dowry. ”

“She has a fondness for the boy?”

Sanchia shrugged. “Elizabet has a very gentle nature. She likes Alessandro well enough and would grow to love him in time. At least, she’d be safe from Giovanni and Caprino.”

Lion’s gaze became intent. “Caprino?”

“Caprino wants to use her in one of his brothels. I won’t let that happen, but Caprino will have her if I’m not here to prevent it.”

“I see.” Lion’s lips tightened. “A very cunning man, Caprino.”

“You know him?”

“I’m beginning to know him better as time goes on.”

“He mustn’t get Elizabet. She wouldn’t live more than a year in a brothel. She’s too—” She stopped and then went on. “Fifteen ducats for Piero. Elizabet would take care of him, but I couldn’t expect Alessandro’s family to accept him without compensation.”

“A dowry for Piero, too?” Lion murmured. “I’m beginning to feel like a matchmaker.”

“It is not much money for a rich man,” she said urgently. “And it would mean they’d all be safe and cared for.”

“And give you no reason to run back here.”

She nodded earnestly. “I told you I keep my promises. I’ll be whatever you want me to be, if you’ll only help them.”

His gaze searched her face. “Complete obedience without question?”

She nodded.

“Absolute loyalty to me for as long as I own you?”

“Yes.”

A crooked smile touched his lips. “Seventy-five ducats. So that’s the price for the purchase of a soul these days.”

She was bewildered. “What?”

“Never mind.” He shifted his gaze from her face to the piazza a short distance away. “You shall have your seventy-five ducats.”

Sanchia felt dizzy with relief. “Now?”

“Why not?” He nodded at a slim, elegant man seated at table beneath the arcade. “I’m sure my friend Lorenzo will be overjoyed to go with you to settle your flock in their new havens. He has such a sweet nature.”

Sanchia’s eyes widened. “You’re jesting.

” She was sure there was nothing sweet about the man sitting at the table gazing down at the open book on the table in front of him.

Neither a sweet temperament nor good looks, she thought as she stared at him.

His dark brown hair was frosted with silver at the temples, his nose was too long and his complexion swarthy.

The hollowed planes of his face and his deepset eyes reminded her vaguely of Fra Savonarola, who had been burned in the Piazza della Signoria when she was a child.

Then he suddenly glanced up and Sanchia tensed.

The man’s gray eyes did not burn with a fanatical fervor as had the monk’s but were as remote from human emotion as the stars on a winter night.

He closed the book and, as they approached, his gaze ran over Sanchia in cool appraisal. “She’s younger than I thought. Will she be adequate?”

“She’d better be.” Lion grimaced. “She’s becoming a very expensive acquisition. If we don’t get out of Florence soon, I may have to sell Mandara to pay for her.”

Lorenzo stood up and bowed mockingly. “Lorenzo Vasaro, at your service, Madonna Sanchia.”

A hint of mischief crossed Lion’s face. “As a matter of fact, there is a service you can do her. How kind of you to offer.”

“There they are.” Sanchia had spied Elizabet, Bartolomeo, and Piero across the piazza. “I’ll go get them and explain…” Her words trailed away as she started off at a run toward the children.

Lorenzo’s gaze followed Sanchia across the wide piazza. She reached the children and began speaking quickly and with great urgency. “You haven’t, by any chance, bought those other waifs, too?”

“Not exactly. But it appears our Sanchia has a very motherly nature and wishes to get her brood settled before she leaves the city. Go with her and spend what you need to make sure the children are safe.” He frowned. “And get her something to eat. She looks half starved.”

“Our Sanchia?”

Lion shrugged. “My Sanchia, then. It seems reasonable to set her mind at rest before taking her to Solinari.”

“Very reasonable,” Lorenzo said solemnly. “I can see that you’d never want your slave to suffer the distresses of worry.”

“You find it amusing?” Lion asked. “Gold doesn’t always buy what we want, and I need her loyalty.”

“And you think settling these three children will purchase what you want from her?”

Lion’s gaze flew to Sanchia. She was kneeling on the flagstones beside the smallest child, speaking persuasively, her features illuminated with such a loving radiance that Lion found himself unable to look away from her. “Yes,” he said slowly. “This will buy me what I want.”