Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

the soup before speaking. "What, exactly, did Mirella say to him?"
    "She told him you were magical. She actually used the word magical. I interrupted and tried to say she meant you were so filled with joy and laughter and could light up a room, but Mirella just stared at him completely spellbound and went on as giddily as a girl."
    "The don had to leave to meet someone—I heard him tell his manservant, Gostanz, that he had a very important meeting and would return late. I hurried Mirella out of there, I can tell you that, and scolded her all the way home. She was very contrite, as she should have been, but I fear that will not save you.
    Though it breaks my heart, we must send you away, far away, where you will be beyond the don's reach."
    Nicoletta continued to eat calmly, her mind racing. Now she didn't dare tell Maria Pia what she had seen from the cliff. She would be sent away for certain. The don had obviously gone to meet someone of importance at the cove, but it had been an ambush, ending in two killings at his hands. If he knew she had witnessed the event, he might well wish to dispose of her by naming her a witch. Don Giovanni Scarletti might live in a pagan household, but he had close ties to the Church. He had close ties to everyone in power.
    "I will stay here, Maria Pia. I do not intend to hide from him. Besides, no one hides successfully from the don. You have said so yourself on many occasions. No one has yet come to haul me away. After supper I will go to Donna Mirella and comfort her. I do not want her to worry that she has placed me in a terrible position."
    "But likely she has, Nicoletta. You are not taking this matter as seriously as you should."
    "I am taking it very seriously," she said softly, "more seriously than you can know, but I do not think it fair for Mirella to blame herself when I believe the don is able to… to influence people in some way. You said yourself he influenced you. You said he is rumored to read minds as well. It is not Mirella's fault."
    Maria Pia looked at her a long time and then smiled slowly. "I did a good thing when I took you in, bambina. You are right, of course. We cannot allow the old fool to be ashamed and mourn. She is dimwitted—that is her excuse. I, however, have none. If the don should threaten you, I will travel far from here with you."
    Nicoletta smiled sweetly. "You will remain here where I know you are safe, and you will trust me to hide out until the don loses interest."
    "You said he would lose interest immediately, and he did not. You also just agreed that no one could hide forever from the don." The sparkle was beginning to return to the older woman's eyes, however, with Nicoletta's reassurances.
    "I thought you told me you were forgetful," Nicoletta teased her back, pleased that Maria Pia was no longer so fretful.

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Chapter Four
    Nicoletta lay beneath her coverlet, unable to sleep, tossing and turning this way and that. Outside, the wind rushed at the thin walls of the hut as if storming a fortress. It brought his voice with it. The don's voice. She could hear the low voice murmuring to her continually, mercilessly, a relentless assault she feared would never end. Soft. Compelling. Needing. Commanding. It went on and on, the sound brushing at the inside of her mind and making her body burn in an unfamiliar way. There was something darkly sensual in that voice, a whisper of sin, erotic and seductive, that left her wanting and needing and burning in her bed. Nicoletta squirmed and put her hands over her ears to try to drown out the sound. It only increased in volume. Her skin felt damp and sensitive, her breasts aching with need. Furious, she sat up, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Impatiently she braided it quickly, padding on bare feet to the window to stare out into the darkness.
    She desperately wanted to leave the hut right then in the middle of the night and inspect the cove. What had happened to Don Scarletti? Was he safe? Was she merely dreaming he was calling to her? Had there been others lying in wait to ambush him? Could he be out there, injured and in need of aid? But the voice sounded smooth and haunting, not weak and injured. The voice sounded seductive, like a sorcerer's weapon that seeped its way through flesh and bone and under skin to smolder with wicked heat in her breasts, her belly, between her legs. Color swept up her neck; her entire