Feehan, Christine - The Scarletti Curse (18 page)

Bernado was already aware of the gossip flying about the palazzo. The don
had chosen a bride from the neighboring
villaggio,
and he knew this
young woman guarded by his elite personal soldiers had to be the intended wife.
He bowed low and indicated a chair. "Always a pleasure to entertain such
beautiful women, signorinas."

Maria Pia beamed at him, grateful someone was being kind to her young
charge. Bernado and Celeste, his assistant, fixed enough food for the guards,
too, and the meal was quite good. Nicoletta complimented Bernado and with a few
smiles and jests soon had the small group grinning and laughing. Sophie sat
close, and after the meal Nicoletta leaned against the counter to talk with
Bernado, absently playing with the child's hair.

Don Scarletti heard the echo of laughter spilling through the cavernous
corridor as he made his way to his study. It stopped him in his tracks. He
could not remember the last time he had heard laughter in the palazzo. Real,
honest laughter, not the affected, silly nonsense Portia's daughter, Margerita,
used so coquettishly around every male
aristocratico
she came near. The
sound was like sunshine, dispelling the gloom of the halls, and he found
himself turning and following the melodious notes beckoning him.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, one hip leaning lazily against the wall as
he watched her. Nicoletta was dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, her hair on
top of her head in some intricate knot. A few tendrils had escaped, falling in
silky waves around her face. Her eyes were large and dark and filled with dancing
mischief as she teased the cook and one of the guards. Her small feet were
bare, and her mouth was lush and inviting.

The moment they saw him, a hush fell on the group, and Bernado turned
quickly back to his work. Sophie moved a little behind Nicoletta as if for
protection, and the two guards came to immediate attention. Nicoletta smiled at
the don with the innocence of a child. "You truly have a treasure here in
the kitchen," she greeted him happily.

"Yes, I do," Don Scarletti agreed enigmatically, his eyes on her
small, delicate face. Something in his voice and the intent way he watched her
made Nicoletta blush. His smile widened so that his strong white teeth were
very much in evidence. "I see you have forgotten your shoes again. I must
remember to put a pair in each room so that when you kick them off, it will be
of no consequence." His voice was low and gentle, a brush of velvet heat
over her skin.

"You seem to be very concerned with shoes," Nicoletta observed,
her dark eyes laughing openly at him.

He held out a hand to her. "Come walk with me,
piccola.
I am
sure Signorina Sigmora and the others will ensure I do not take a bite out of
you, although you look very inviting this morning."

Faint color crept up her neck under her sun-gilded skin. She stared at his
hand for a moment as if he might really be capable of biting her. Very slowly,
almost reluctantly, she extended her own. At once his fingers enveloped hers,
curling around them firmly. He drew her to his side so that she fit beneath his
broad shoulder. Behind them, Sophie giggled nervously. Giovanni didn't turn
around but rather walked Nicoletta toward the entrance to the courtyard.
"Did you sleep well?" His body brushed against her, hard and
muscular, very different from her own, making her all too aware of her own
soft, feminine contours.

"You mean after all the commotion?" Nicoletta glanced sideways at
him. He was tall and powerful, and every time she looked at him her heart
seemed to cease beating and then begin to pound. She couldn't look at him
without remembering her wicked, erotic dreams, still very vivid in her memory.
"Is it always like that around here at night?"

His thumb feathered along the inside of her wrist. Once. Twice. Her heart
did a funny little somersault. Color was creeping slowly under her skin again.
All at once the drafty hall wasn't nearly cool enough. The pad of his thumb
lingered over her frantically beating pulse. "I confess, you seem to cause
quite a stir," he answered, his mind clearly on other matters. His fingers
were moving over her skin as if of their own volition, stroking caresses along
her forearm, sending heat waves throughout her body.

Nicoletta knew she should pull away, but his touch was mesmerizing. He
dropped her hand, abruptly halting so that he trapped her close to the wall,
his large frame blocking her view of the courtyard. She felt the heat of his
body through the thin barrier of her clothes. His fingers curled around her
throat. His dark eyes stared down into hers. "When you laugh, you light up
the world. That is a very dangerous thing."

It should have been a compliment, but he said it in a brooding, almost
disapproving voice. There was no laughter in him, no hint of gentleness. His
black gaze was intense as it roamed over her face. His fingers tightened on
hers, making her gasp.

Her lips parted, a tempting invitation. With what sounded like an oath, he
lowered his head and fastened his mouth to hers. At once Nicoletta's world
changed. The ground shifted, a subtle, rippling movement beneath her feet, making
it seem natural to take shelter next to his heart. He was enormously strong,
his arms sweeping her soft body against his hard, muscular one as his mouth
took possession of hers. He was fiercely hungry, a dark, dangerous need he
didn't bother to hide. She melted, her body becoming boneless, pliant, flames
dancing along her skin with a need she couldn't define. A wildness began to
rise from somewhere deep inside her, needing, demanding.

"Don Scarletti! Nicoletta!" Maria Pia's horrified voice lashed at
them both. "This is scandalous behavior!"

The don took his time, his mouth moving gently over Nicoletta's. Where
before there was fiery hunger, he was now gentle, lingering for a moment,
kissing her thoroughly until her legs threatened to give way and she was
clinging to him. Only then did he slowly lift his head, his black gaze
hypnotic, making her stare up at him helplessly, caught in his dark sorcerer's
spell. His fingertips traced the delicate curves of her face as if committing
them to memory for all time.

"Don Scarletti, I must protest this behavior!" Maria Pia was
insistent, tugging at Nicoletta's arm to free her from between the don's hard
body and the palazzo wall.

Giovanni didn't relinquish possession immediately, but continued to stare
intently into Nicoletta's upturned face as if he were the one under a spell of
enchantment, totally bemused by her. "Then it is good that we marry
immediately," he said, completely unrepentant, his voice as steady and
soft as ever. He was speaking to Maria Pia, but his mouth was close to
Nicoletta's ear, his warm breath stirring the tendrils of hair there and
pouring heat into her bloodstream. He bent his head still lower, so that his
lips moved against her ear. "I cannot wait." He whispered the words
against her bare skin, and she felt them all the way down to her toes.

Maria Pia let out an outraged squawk. The don straightened slowly, bowed
slightly to the women, and sauntered back into the palazzo. Nicoletta stared
after him, unable to move, unable to think, one hand pressed to her mouth in
shock. He looked so calm and unruffled, his body moving with the same casual
ripple of power, while Nicoletta wanted to slide down the wall into a little
heap.

Sophie broke the spell, wrapping her arms around Nicoletta's legs and hugging
her tightly. "Is Zio Gino really going to marry you?"

Nicoletta glanced at the two guards, who were doing their best to hide their
smiles. Color flooded her face, and she hastily walked past them into the huge
courtyard. It was a riot of color, the plants well tended by several
groundsmen. A huge fountain dominated the area, a marble structure nearly a
story high. A chariot with six racing horses sending up sprays of white-foamed
water from their flying hooves loomed in its center. It was enormous, an
ornate, incredibly beautiful sculpture.

"Nicoletta." Sophie tugged at her skirt. "Are you really
going to marry
Zio
Gino?" Her young voice was insistent, containing
none of the hesitation she frequently seemed to exhibit.

Nicoletta took her hand. "Well, your
Zio
Gino has said I will,
so I suppose I must. What do you think?"

Sophie immediately looked impressed at being asked her opinion. "I
think if
Zio
Gino marries you, then you can stay here always." She
smiled up at Nicoletta.

Nicoletta picked up the child and swung her in a circle until the little
girl squealed with delight. They raced across the courtyard together, their
laughter floating back to bring smiles to the faces of the guards and even
Maria Pia.

Nicoletta stopped on the far side of the courtyard, kneeling to examine a
rare flower that opened only in the early hours of morning. The petals were
covered in dew, and she exclaimed over it, beckoning to Sophie. In truth, she
was trembling inside, shocked at the wild, wanton side of her nature she hadn't
known existed. She couldn't deny to herself that she was just as much to blame
for that scandalous kiss as was Don Giovanni Scarletti. He could have seduced
her right there and then, and she would have let him, so mesmerized by him was
she that she couldn't see straight.

She didn't want to think about being alone with him in the bedchamber. He
was a dark sorcerer weaving a black-magic spell, and Nicoletta was flitting
closer and closer to disaster, drawn inexorably toward his hot flame. She
couldn't seem to resist him, the intensity in his black gaze, a dark hunger she
couldn't ignore. Nicoletta pushed at her hair with a trembling hand, grateful
Maria Pia was across the courtyard and not lecturing her on being a
"good" girl.

"So, you are the chosen bride." Vincente appeared out of the maze
of hedges, his tall, handsome frame immaculate in his fashionable attire. His
dark eyes were laughing as they took in Nicoletta's peasant skirt and blouse
and her small, bare feet.

Nicoletta scrambled to stand. Sophie stared up at her father in a kind of
painful, hopeful silence, her hand catching at Nicoletta's skirt for support.
Nicoletta reached down and stroked the child's hair in comfort. "Good morn
to you, sir," she said brightly. "Sophie has been wonderful, showing
me around the grounds. I do not know what I would do without her."

Vincente raised a skeptical eyebrow. "She is not pestering you?"

Nicoletta's fingers slipped down the little girl's arm to take her hand.
"Not at all. I am asking her so many questions, she probably wishes
herself away from me."

Sophie laughed nervously. "She is fun, Papa."

"Fun, eh? I can believe that." The man reached down and ruffled
his daughter's hair. "I must apologize for cousin Portia's behavior last
night. I hope you were not thinking I agreed with her demands. She is rather
spoiled and used to getting her way. The thought of a new mistress here is
frightening to her. In truth, no one thought Giovanni would take a bride. My
brother, Antonello, and I thought it our duty to provide heirs as Giovanni had
declared no interest in the subject. Antonello has not yet wed, and my being
widowed," he said sadly, "left Portia the woman of the house. But now
Giovanni has chosen… you." There was a faint questioning note in
Vincente's voice, as if he half expected Nicoletta to admit she had cast a
spell over his eldest brother.

"And choose he did. I had not thought to take a husband,"
Nicoletta responded.

Vincente threw back his head and laughed aloud. "Good answer. I am
Vincente Scarletti. We have met, of course, on more than one occasion, but not
yet formally." He reached for her fingertips and drew them to his mouth
for a kiss while his dark eyes flirted outrageously with her. He bowed low.
"Even had we not met before, you look very familiar to me. Perhaps I know
your
famiglia?"

"Perhaps," Nicoletta answered vaguely. She was having a difficult
time thinking clearly. There was a curious sensation in her head, a dark,
oppressive feeling she had never experienced before. A heavy dread seemed to be
spreading in the pit of her stomach. She felt the need to step away from
Vincente, from his good looks and charm. The need to pull her hand from his was
so sharp and strong, she actually did so.

It was then that she glanced toward the wide windows of the palazzo. From
the long balcony atop colossal columns surrounding the structure, Giovanni was
watching them. He was as still as the mountains around them, as if he were
carved from marble himself. A powerful, intimidating figure. At once she
realized he was in her head, a dark fury driving him hard. She could feel waves
of warning beating at her mind. He was
demanding
that she move away from
his flirtatious brother. This was no soft whisper but a dark flow of anger, of
black jealousy.

Her chin rose a fraction in challenge as she stared back at him. Across the
wide expanse of the
palazzo
their eyes locked in weird combat, her will
against his. Slowly the malevolence faded, replaced by faintly mocking
amusement.
You cannot hope to win a battle with me,
cara.
You are far
too young and innocent.

The words were clear this time, not merely an impression but there in her
ears, as if he had spoken aloud! Shocked at his power—the evidence of a true
sorcerer, perhaps the devil himself—Nicoletta took a step backward.

I prefer your dreams to your fears,
piccola. He whispered it to her
wickedly, reminding her vividly of the erotic dreams that had danced in her
head the night before. He stood for a moment longer on the marble balcony,
looking so much the
aristocratico,
a man so accustomed to commanding
others that authority was stamped into his hard features. Giovanni Scarletti's
white teeth flashed briefly before he turned and went back into his study. She
could see his tall, muscular frame through the window as he gestured to someone
she couldn't see clearly to enter the room.