Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

to move on the slippery ledge with her legs shaking so badly. "Go away," she whispered to him. "Go away!"
    He was stalking her, very close, a silent predator hunting beneath the cover of darkness, as lethal as any wolf. Nicoletta felt along the cliff edge for a firm hold. Without warning, strong fingers circled her slender wrist like a shackle. Don Giovanni Scarletti simply pulled her straight up, so that for one terrifying moment her legs dangled over the cliff, her entire weight supported by his one hand. She cried out, clutched at his arm, her feet digging for solid purchase of any kind.
    He set her on the ground beside him. Nicoletta lashed out blindly, furious at him for frightening her.
    Furious at him for catching up with her. Furious at him for choosing her. He caught her fist in midair and simply stood there looking down at her. They stared at one another, his black eyes unblinking, like those of a large mountain lion.
    He had every right to throw her off the cliff if he so desired. No one would question the don. Nicoletta couldn't believe this was happening. She flung up her head in challenge. "Why are you insisting on a bride? And why me?" With the sudden insight that often flooded her in moments of high emotion, she added, "You did not even want a wife." She studied his face. "You never intended on taking a bride, not even to provide you with an heir."
    He slipped his arms out of his coat. "You are shivering again, piccola. Is it from your fear of me, or is it from the cold?"
    He enfolded her small frame in the large coat, pulling the edges together so that she felt as if she were in the warmth of his arms, surrounded by the heat of his body. She looked around them. "Where are the others? Your soldiers?"
    He raised one elegant eyebrow. "Warming their hands by their camp fires, no doubt. I did not want them to realize that my bride feared me so much, she ran away in the night at the first opportunity." He sounded more sardonic than perturbed. He shrugged his wide shoulders casually. "Better to collect you myself. It would not do for my men to know that my bride preferred the company of wolves to mine."
    His hand brushed a stray strand of inky black hair from her face, his touch lingering on her skin. "I should not have left temptation open to you. I knew what was in your mind."

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    "Reading my mind?" She dared him to admit it and condemn himself as a servant of the devil.
    "Your face is transparent, piccola. I do not find you in the least difficult to read. You did slip past me," he conceded, bowing slightly in salute. "But I think our adventures are over for this night."
    Nicoletta reluctantly walked beside him. "Why would you suddenly want a bride?"
    Giovanni was silent so long, she was certain he would not answer her. "I have recently discovered my great need of a… mate." His voice was a deliberate seduction, suggestive and so intimate that she blushed wildly.
    Nicoletta found she was shivering again despite the warmth of his coat. "I just want to go home." In spite of her every resolve, she sounded like a forlorn child.
    "That is where I am taking you—and where we will be wed immediately. It may be diverting to some men to chase young women around in the hills at night, but it is, after all, a rather chilly business."
    "Don Scarletti, there are so many women who would be honored to be your bride. Any one of them would make you a wonderful wife, much more fitting to your station than I." Nicoletta attempted to make him see reason.
    "But then, I am not looking for a wife who is 'fitting to my station.' The needs I have only you can meet."
    He reached out absently and pushed back another stray tendril of hair curling on her forehead. His fingertips lingered, as if he couldn't help himself, as if he couldn't stop touching the softness of her skin. It was almost a caress, sending a shiver of awareness rushing through her with the heat of a flame. She saw the gleam of the heavy ring bearing his family crest.
    "You chose me because of what I saw on the cliff," she accused, frightened by her own body's reaction to him. "I did not tell anyone. I knew you killed only in self-defense."
    "Do not speak of it again." His voice was a whip of command.
    She walked for a distance in silence, turning over his words in her mind, not understanding him at all.
    Afraid to understand him. "We are going the wrong way," she suddenly noticed. "We