Lair of the Lion

quickly in the mountains. Return home soon."
    A bit bemused, Isabella nodded, touching her mouth, where she could still feel him, still taste him.
    Nicolai clapped his hands, and the children scattered in alarm as he waved them off.
    Sergio and Rolando followed him as he strode away from the city and toward the dense forest. Isabella stood staring after the three men.
    Violante and Theresa were grinning at her. Isabella's body was aching with need, with a hunger that was fast becoming familiar to her. Finally she blinked at the two women, as if she were astonished to see them standing there. "What?" she asked. But she knew what.
    Nicolai had rocked the world for her, set it on fire, and she would never feel the same, never be the same again.
    "How is it I could see him?" Theresa asked, wonder in her voice.
    Isabella pressed a hand to her stomach. "He's a man, Theresa. Why wouldn't you see him?" She felt strange, shaky. The feeling crept over her, and she shivered, drawing her cloak closer around her. "You should always see him as a man."
    "I didn't mean to offend you," Theresa said stiffly. "I was amazed, that's all. He rarely makes appearances."
    "I'm hoping to change that," Isabella answered with a small smile, trying to recapture the camaraderie of their game. She knew she had snapped at Theresa, knew the people in the holding rarely looked at Nicolai, afraid they would see the illusion of the lion. Isabella hadn't meant to snap, but she felt unsettled. It bothered her that no one seemed to consider the loneliness of Nicolai's existence, and that the way they all treated him might contribute to the illusion itself.
    "The game was fun," Violante said, "but cold." She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm herself. "I couldn't believe it when Sergio began to throw snow at us." She attempted to pat her hair back into place, aware of her disheveled appearance. "I don't suppose I look very beautiful all mussed." Her gaze moved over Isabella and Theresa critically, enviously, the laughter fading from her eyes. "Theresa, your hair has fallen on one side, and your face is red. I guess it's impossible for us to look as good as Isabella does."
    "But I'm a mess," Isabella said, surveying her wet cloak and gown. Her stomach was knotting, and she clenched her teeth.
    "I noticed Rolando enjoyed the game while he was playing with you, Isabella," Violante chattered on. "If you hadn't thrown snow at him, he might have given poor Theresa another one of his lessons on how to behave."
    "Well, there's no doubt Theresa's the best at our little war." Isabella beamed determinedly at her. "You hit your target every time."
    "I have two younger brothers," Theresa admitted. "I've had lots of practice. I must go. I was visiting a friend but must get back." She lifted a hand and moved off, following the pathway that led to the rows of buildings.
    Isabella watched her until she was out of sight. "I didn't know she had two brothers. She didn't mention them before."
    "They're under Rolando's command," Violante said. "Theresa is lucky that her famiglia is so close. I would have thought being raised on a farm would keep one from being able to fit in at court, but her famiglia does it easily."
    Violante's voice was so wistful, Isabella wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her gently as they began walking. "I don't think any of us have your grace and presence, Violante, I grew up running mia famiglia's palazzo, and I still can't manage to look as confident and fashionable as you. I'm always saying and doing the wrong thing."
    Violante looked down at her wet gloves. "I saw the way Don DeMarco held you and kissed you. I saw the love on his face. You have something I'll never have."
    Isabella stopped walking to face the other woman. "I've seen your husband when he looks at you," she said softly. "You have no reason to fear he cares for any woman other than you."
    Violante pressed a trembling hand to her lips, blinking rapidly to prevent tears from spilling over. "Grazie, Isabella. You are a true friend to say such a thing."
    "I only tell you what I see."
    "I just want you to be prepared, Isabella. Nicolai is a powerful man, a man other women will want. Once they see him, they will gaze upon him with lustful, greedy eyes. You will be unable to know what woman is friend or foe. A man can be weak when females throw themselves at him."
    "Has this happened to you?" Isabella could not reconcile the man who had played with such glee in the snow