Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

mia," Giovanni said softly, and he lifted her right out of the chair to cradle her close to his body. She was beginning to feel as if she belonged there.
    Nicoletta slipped her arm around his neck and lay her head against his shoulder. "I am sorry I hit you earlier. It was horrible of me."
    He buried his face against her neck and inhaled her fragrance. "I do not recall such a breach of conduct.
    I was only grateful to be of service." He carried her to the bed, very gently placing her beneath the coverlet. "Sit up for a few more minutes, cara." His hands loosened the thick rope of hair knotted atop her head. He took the brush from the dresser and began tugging at the tangles.
    Nicoletta closed her eyes, so exhausted she was swaying with weariness. There had been so much blood. Lissandra's eyes had been open, staring desperately, pleadingly at her. Immediately the vision swam into her mind, and her stomach rolled. She shuddered.
    Giovanni leaned close to her, his hands caressing as he deftly plaited her hair into a long, thick braid. You will sleep, cara, with no nightmares. I insist on this, and you will learn, I always get my way.
    The words brushed intimately in her mind. Nicoletta could tell the connection between the don and her was growing stronger; his words were much clearer, and he used little effort now to reach her. She curled up beneath the coverlet, his voice a soft murmur, not aloud but rather in her mind, where no other could hear, no other could intrude. He talked to her softly, soothingly, weaving tales of adventure, of daring, of beautiful foreign lands, driving out the nightmare images. All the while he held her close to him, his hands moving in a caress over her silky hair. There was such gentleness in his hands, such tenderness in his voice, that Nicoletta relaxed and drifted into slumber.

Chapter Ten
    Light streamed through the thick stained glass, and colors danced on the mural. Reds and blues highlighted the strange carvings. Nicoletta awoke to a small body nestled beside hers. Cautiously she turned her head, eyelashes fluttering open. Sophie lay curled tightly against her, her dark hair spilling around her face. A melted candle lay on the floor beside the marble wall where the child had left it, a testimony to her courage in braving the dreaded fantasmi in her effort to get to Nicoletta. Her little hand clutched Nicoletta's thin white night shift.
    Nicoletta gently removed Sophie's grip on her shift and sat up. Maria Pia was no longer in the room, indicating it was probably fairly late. Nicoletta didn't often sleep past early dawn. There was a hushed silence in the palazzo. Nicoletta stretched lazily and padded across the chamber to perform her morning ablutions. Her hair was still damp when she loosened it from the thick braid the don had woven for her the night before.
    She closed her eyes against the memories crowding in: Lissandra's blood and her young, desperate face looking to her for a miracle Nicoletta couldn't provide. Then she glanced at the innocent child sleeping so peacefully in the large bed. This child she could and would help, she vowed.
    Nicoletta did not want to think too closely about her own behavior with the don last night. He had taken her blouse right off her, exposing her body to his burning gaze. At the time she had been in shock, but now her memory was vivid, far more vivid than she would have liked. The look in the don's eyes had Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    been intensely possessive. In her mind, she had felt his honest attempts to comfort her, but his gaze had held stark, raw desire. Her body grew hot and uncomfortable at the memory.
    She sighed and deliberately turned her attention back to the painted mural and the carvings in the marble wall. With the rays of the sun pouring through the stained glass, prisms of color bathed and illuminated the relief. Across the coverlet, red, green, yellow, and blue hues fashioned a beautiful rainbow. Nicoletta looked back at the panel of windows. It caught her interest, it was so unusual—very tall, with a virtual tapestry of pictures woven into its various circular panes. Scenes of the life of the aristocracia. Winged guardians watching over the famiglia aristocratico. Weaving among the panes were leaded vines drawing the scenes together. It was truly a work of art, and the metal filigree had a strange effect on the mural on the far wall. The serpent coils looked completely