Letitia comes with the
wine."
"I don't have to lie down. I'm not ill."
He picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed. "And you're not going to
be ill. I have no time to be your nursemaid."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she thought of Lionello Andreas in a sickroom. He
was so big, his energy and vitality so great, she couldn't associate him with illness. "I'll
endeavor to ward off all maladies so as not to inconvenience you."
"Are you laughing at me?"
Her lashes fell to veil the glint of mischief in her eyes. "I would not dare, my lord."
"You'd dare." He stood looking down at her for an instant before turning on his heel.
"Rest. I'll go next door and let Lorenzo laugh at me awhile. I'm more accustomed to his
barbs than yours."
Sanchia raised herself on one elbow. "Barbs, my lord? I merely jested a bit. If you'd
rather I wouldn't laugh, you must tell me and I'll--"
He held his hand up. "Must you be so obliging? I'm not so puffed up that I can't laugh at
myself." Suddenly a smile lit his harsh features with rare warmth. "And I always get my
own back eventually."
The door shut behind him before she could answer.
She gazed at the door for a long time before she settled her cheek on the pillow and
closed her eyes. He was difficult to understand, she thought wearily. So many hard, sharp
edges and so much brutal driving force and yet his hands had held nothing but rough
kindness when they touched her just now.
And his smile had been beautiful...
Chapter Five.
Well, if I must face the horrors of mounting that repulsive monster at dawn, I suppose I
must bid you good night." Lorenzo pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. A faintly
mocking smile was on his lips as his gaze rested on Sanchia sitting on a stool by the
hearth. "A
very
good night. Shall I tell Letitia to take away the remains of this sumptuous
repast so as not to disturb you... later?"
"I'll clear it away." Sanchia jumped to her feet, eager to have something to do to relieve
the tension that had been building steadily within her during the meal. "There's no use
your troubling yourself, Messer Lorenzo. I'll be glad to--"
"Sit down, Sanchia." Lion's voice was as lazy as the position of his big body sprawled in
the chair opposite Lorenzo. "Tell Letitia to come and take care of it, Lorenzo."
"But I can... " Sanchia trailed off as she met Lion's gaze. The room was suddenly close,
airless. She quickly sat back down on the stool and looked at the reflection of the firelight
in the ruby red wine in her wooden goblet.
Lorenzo nodded as he moved toward the door. "I'll see you at dawn."
The silence in the room after the door closed behind him was broken only by the hiss and
crackle of the olive logs burning in the fireplace. Sanchia could feel Lion's gaze on her
face but avoided looking up to meet his eyes.
The tension was growing, the tightness in her chest robbing her of breath. Why didn't he
speak? Then when he let the silence drag on she realized she must be the one to break it.
"You should let me serve you. It is my place."
"I didn't buy you to serve me at the table. Your time will come."
Involuntarily her glance flew to the bed across the room.
He chuckled. "I didn't buy you for that either. It will only be an extra delight for us both."
"Not for--" She broke off. It would be foolish to anger him when he seemed to be more
mellow than she had ever seen him. There were answers she must have if she was to
understand him. "What lies behind the door, my lord? The one that I'm to steal the key to
unlock?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
"It's important for me to try to know about things that have an effect on my life. You're a
very rich man. Why should you steal more?"
Lion smiled cynically. "My dear Sanchia, haven't you found there's never enough wealth
for some men?"
"Yes." A frown furrowed her brow. "I do not know you very well, but I don't think you're
one of those men."
"No, but Francisco Damari is." The wooden chair creaked
wine."
"I don't have to lie down. I'm not ill."
He picked her up and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed. "And you're not going to
be ill. I have no time to be your nursemaid."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she thought of Lionello Andreas in a sickroom. He
was so big, his energy and vitality so great, she couldn't associate him with illness. "I'll
endeavor to ward off all maladies so as not to inconvenience you."
"Are you laughing at me?"
Her lashes fell to veil the glint of mischief in her eyes. "I would not dare, my lord."
"You'd dare." He stood looking down at her for an instant before turning on his heel.
"Rest. I'll go next door and let Lorenzo laugh at me awhile. I'm more accustomed to his
barbs than yours."
Sanchia raised herself on one elbow. "Barbs, my lord? I merely jested a bit. If you'd
rather I wouldn't laugh, you must tell me and I'll--"
He held his hand up. "Must you be so obliging? I'm not so puffed up that I can't laugh at
myself." Suddenly a smile lit his harsh features with rare warmth. "And I always get my
own back eventually."
The door shut behind him before she could answer.
She gazed at the door for a long time before she settled her cheek on the pillow and
closed her eyes. He was difficult to understand, she thought wearily. So many hard, sharp
edges and so much brutal driving force and yet his hands had held nothing but rough
kindness when they touched her just now.
And his smile had been beautiful...
Chapter Five.
Well, if I must face the horrors of mounting that repulsive monster at dawn, I suppose I
must bid you good night." Lorenzo pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. A faintly
mocking smile was on his lips as his gaze rested on Sanchia sitting on a stool by the
hearth. "A
very
good night. Shall I tell Letitia to take away the remains of this sumptuous
repast so as not to disturb you... later?"
"I'll clear it away." Sanchia jumped to her feet, eager to have something to do to relieve
the tension that had been building steadily within her during the meal. "There's no use
your troubling yourself, Messer Lorenzo. I'll be glad to--"
"Sit down, Sanchia." Lion's voice was as lazy as the position of his big body sprawled in
the chair opposite Lorenzo. "Tell Letitia to come and take care of it, Lorenzo."
"But I can... " Sanchia trailed off as she met Lion's gaze. The room was suddenly close,
airless. She quickly sat back down on the stool and looked at the reflection of the firelight
in the ruby red wine in her wooden goblet.
Lorenzo nodded as he moved toward the door. "I'll see you at dawn."
The silence in the room after the door closed behind him was broken only by the hiss and
crackle of the olive logs burning in the fireplace. Sanchia could feel Lion's gaze on her
face but avoided looking up to meet his eyes.
The tension was growing, the tightness in her chest robbing her of breath. Why didn't he
speak? Then when he let the silence drag on she realized she must be the one to break it.
"You should let me serve you. It is my place."
"I didn't buy you to serve me at the table. Your time will come."
Involuntarily her glance flew to the bed across the room.
He chuckled. "I didn't buy you for that either. It will only be an extra delight for us both."
"Not for--" She broke off. It would be foolish to anger him when he seemed to be more
mellow than she had ever seen him. There were answers she must have if she was to
understand him. "What lies behind the door, my lord? The one that I'm to steal the key to
unlock?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
"It's important for me to try to know about things that have an effect on my life. You're a
very rich man. Why should you steal more?"
Lion smiled cynically. "My dear Sanchia, haven't you found there's never enough wealth
for some men?"
"Yes." A frown furrowed her brow. "I do not know you very well, but I don't think you're
one of those men."
"No, but Francisco Damari is." The wooden chair creaked
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