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Lair of the Lion

Lair of the Lion

Titel: Lair of the Lion Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
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history, won't acknowledge the old ones, because you want to think you control everything here in the valley, but you and I both know it isn't so."
    "I scented our blood in the city, Francesca."
    Isabella found Nicolai's softly spoken accusation, the coldness of his tone, far more intimidating than his hot temper.
    "You can become the beast, Francesca?" Isabella was struggling to take it in, also remembering the feminine voice leading her up the palazzo stairs to the balcony, remembering she had nearly died.
    "Of course. I'm a DeMarco. Why shouldn't I be able to become the lion? It is my birthright as well as my curse. Don't let him fool you, Isabella. He embraces his legacy just as I have. What do you think keeps our valley and our people safe from outsiders?" She tipped her head to one side and leveled a cool gaze on Isabella's pale face. "Tell me, what is one life, the life of a woman, an outsider, in comparison to ruling all of this?" She swept her arms wide to encompass the entire valley.
    "That's enough, Francesca. Leave us now. I will expect to see you this afternoon in my rooms." Nicolai's voice was a whip of command.
    "What?" Defiant to the last, Francesca lifted an eyebrow. "No tower for your mad sister, Nicolai? How very kind of you." She glanced back at Isabella. "Know your enemies, Isabella. That's my advice to you. You're surrounded by them." Francesca spun around and was gone, using the passageway to make her escape.
    Isabella moaned softly and covered her face with her hands. "Go, Nicolai. You go, too. I don't want to see you either."
    "Not this time, cara mia," he said tenderly. "You're not sending me away." He pulled her resisting body into his arms and held her close, stroking her hair, pressing her face into his chest as she wept.
    She didn't even know why she was weeping or for whom. She simply wept. How could she find solace in Nicolai's arms when he was the biggest threat of all to her? Francesca had hit home with her poisoned arrow. What is one life, the life of a woman, an outsider, in comparison to ruling all of this? The words echoed over and over in her mind. Isabella had offered her life in exchange for her brother's life… and Nicolai needed an heir.
    Nicolai lifted Isabella into his arms and cradled her against his chest. His ridiculous plan of keeping her out of harm's way by making her his mistress was flawed. The lions knew she was his true bride. He knew she was his true bride. The curse was already at work. The entity had awoken at her arrival, just as it had upon his mother's arrival.
    He sighed softly, sat in a chair, and rubbed his blue-shadowed chin over the top of her head. "It isn't true, you know. What Francesca said to you. I didn't make a bargain with you expecting to trade your life for Lucca's. I tried to keep you out of the valley. I'd heard of you many times, of your courage and your passion for life. I knew what you would be." His fingers stroked her skin, traced her mouth. "Francesca is not quite sane, Isabella. She runs wild, has always done so, and none of us have had the heart to force her to heel."
    "Why didn't you tell me about Francesca?" She sounded forlorn, vulnerable. She buried her face against his neck, her tears dampening his skin, tugging at his heartstrings.
    "Francesca is different. No one speaks of her. They don't talk of their don and the way he is seen as a lion any more than we speak of my sister and her strange behavior. I should have told you, though it's ingrained in me not to. In all honesty, I felt you had enough to contend with when your betrothed was a beast a great deal of the time. You didn't need to worry about my half-mad sister."
    She lifted her face to examine his golden eyes, her long lashes spiky from her tears.
    "You, signore," she said haughtily, "are no longer my betrothed. And I've spoken with Francesca nearly every night since my arrival, yet I saw no signs of madness. She's different, young, and obviously in need of guidance, but what makes you believe she is mad? Her ability to speak with the 'others'? Because, frankly, Nicolai, I don't think that's any more difficult to believe than your appearing as a beast."
    The shift of her hips in his lap caused a pulsing ache, his body hardening despite his every resolve. "Stop moving, bellezza. You're not entirely safe from me with nothing between us but that gown."
    She felt his body's reaction, the way he grew thick and hard, pressing tightly against her buttocks. Her heart jumped,

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