Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

sea.
    Giovanni raked a hand through his black hair, his gaze all at once wary. "Nonno became quite ill, a terrible fever. We did not expect him to recover. The mantle of leadership fell to mio padre. Even though Nonno was ill and near death, there were things he refused to tell mio padre about the running of our lands. I think he knew Padre was…" He searched for the right words. "Not up to the demands of such a position. Nonno had a difficult and long recovery, and he remained quite weak. But it soon became clear that my father could not continue leading our people. There were… incidents. He made enemies and neglected his duties in his constant pursuit of women. Our people and estates, the lands, were being ruined at a shameful rate. It could not continue. There was also talk that he was selling out our allies." He glanced down at his hands. "Mio padre was assassinated. I never found out who ordered it, though I tried. I know other dons were concerned that my father was aiding our enemies, and I know Nonno feared such a thing would happen. Mio padre was buried quietly, and as Nonno had never sufficiently recovered, I assumed leadership." He left it unspoken that most of their people believed his grandfather had murdered his own wife.
    Nicoletta found her blouse and held it to her for a moment, thankful she had grown up in the villaggio, free from so much deadly intrigue. "I am most happy that you chose me to be your bride, Giovanni. I hope I always take the shadows from your eyes."
    He went to her immediately, his arms dragging her close, his mouth finding hers. His hands moved over Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    her bare back, shaping her narrow ribcage, then gliding upward to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, already hard peaks in the cold night air. "I am most happy I looked upon you and recognized you immediately. You were meant for me. I knew you were. I feel it in my heart."
    Nicoletta nearly dropped her blouse, holding him to her, cradling his head to her, her fingers in his hair. "I feel it, too." She held him close, offering comfort until he reached to kiss her gently before reluctantly letting her go.
    She pulled her blouse over her head, sliding her arms into the sleeves, determined to bring a smile back to his face. "Look at how perfect it is out here, quiet, lots of space to run free." She stepped into her skirt, tilting her head back, looking like a wild siren. "I love it up here."
    Giovanni dressed slowly, watching her as she danced around the trees, her soft laughter a whisper of invitation.
    Nicoletta looked at him over her shoulder, provocative, sexy. She saw he was smiling. He looked younger, more carefree than she had ever seen him.
    "My barefoot wife," he said softly, and he went to his horse to pull a ground sheet from his pack. "If you want to spend a little more time alone here with me, who am I to say no to you? We can rest for a short time. We are not far from the palazzo."
    "Not here, Giovanni," Nicoletta said. "Up on the cliffs above the sea. It is so beautiful there at night. We can watch the waves and look for the sea lights that sometimes shine deep under the water. They look like silver nets below the surface. Have you ever seen them?"
    Don Scarletti nodded as he followed her up the narrow path toward the cliffs overlooking the sandy cove where his cousin and associate had attacked him. It had been a long while since he had shirked his duties and taken a few hours for himself. He had a new bride; it seemed little enough to ask to sit with her, just the two of them, watching the sea. He spread the cover on the ground and took her hand, helping her to settle. He sat close to her, pulling her into his arms.
    Nicoletta snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. She was drowsy, her body sated and deliciously sore. She curled her fingers in his. "I had a happy childhood, Giovanni. I lost mio padre before I knew him, so I was not sad. The time I had with mia madre was wonderful. She made life an adventure. She was always laughing and singing, and other children flocked to her. I was devastated when she and my zia, her sister, died, but Maria Pia was there, and she allowed me my freedom, and she loved me with all her heart. She never made me feel different. She made me feel special. She said I had gifts from God."
    His hand found her hair and tangled there. "Now you make young Sophie and Ketsia feel special, as you