Lair of the Lion

his plans."
    "I'll be careful," she promised him solemnly, finding it difficult to catch her breath when he seemed to have robbed her of the very air around her.
    He bent to take one last, lingering kiss before he turned and strode away. Isabella watched him go, thinking him a man born to rule, born to battle. Power and responsibility sat well on his broad shoulders. The moment she heard Don Rivellio's name, a shiver of apprehension had gone down her spine, but Nicolai inspired confidence. He looked utterly, almost arrogantly, sure of himself, and she found herself smiling again, able to feel the joy of her impending reunion with her brother.
    Isabella rushed up to the battlements, vaguely aware of the two men shadowing her. She paced back and forth, impatiently waiting. Sometimes she would stop long enough to stare down the valley, praying to the good Madonna for a glimpse of the riders. Other times she couldn't stand still.
    A single rider came into view in the distance, nearly stilling her heart. She strained to identify him as he came nearer. He was riding fast, his horse covering the ground in long strides, the rider low over its neck. Her breath caught in her throat in anticipation. This was the forward runner, coming to alert them. He swept through the open archway of the outer wall, calling out to the guards and people waiting. At once commotion reigned, everyone scurrying to finish preparations for the visitors.
    Isabella hurried down the steps and through the palazzo, uncaring of propriety, her heart singing at the thought of seeing her brother once again. She could barely contain her excitement, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. She made her way into the courtyard, remaining within the walls, conscious of her promise to Nicolai. She saw them then: a long row of soldiers, a travois and a guard of four men on either side of it.
    She jammed a fist to her lips and locked her muscles to keep from running forward.
    Sarina slipped up beside her to give her comfort.
    The last few yards before the men entered the outer walls seemed a lifetime to Isabella, but she held her ground, having seen Rivellio's soldiers straining to catch glimpses inside the DeMarco holding. They were being led away from the massive structure to the barracks, used for visiting soldiers.
    As the party made it through the archway, Isabella rushed to her brother's side, nearly knocking over his guards. Lucca attempted to rise from the travois to reach her, and then she had him in her arms, hugging him close, appalled at how thin he was. His dark hair, was streaked with gray, his face lined and pale, sweat dampening his skin, although he was shaking with fever chills.
    "Ti amo, Lucca. Ti amo. I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered against his ear, tears clogging her throat.
    His body was thin and trembling, but his arms held her tightly, and he buried his face in her hair. "Isabella," he said. Only that. But she heard his choking sob, the love in his voice, and it was enough—worth every peril she had faced.
    As a cough wracked his body, she pulled back to look at him. She saw the tears swimming in his eyes and hugged him close again before gently helping him to lie back on the stretcher. "Please be careful with him," she instructed the guards. Then she turned toward the housekeeper. "I want him put in a room near mine, Sarina." Isabella clutched her brother's hand, and he gripped hers just as tightly.
    "Don DeMarco has said he is to have the room right next to yours," Sarina agreed, patting Isabella gently. "It is already prepared for him."
    Tears in her eyes, Isabella walked beside the stretcher, her fingers entwined with Lucca's.

    The room they carried him to was more masculine than hers. A fire crackled on the hearth, and soothing, aromatic candles also lit the chambers.
    Two of the men carefully helped Lucca onto the bed. At the movement, he began coughing and held his chest as if he were in great pain. Isabella glanced anxiously up at Sarina, terrified that she might lose her brother when he had finally come back to her.
    It had been nearly two years since she had last seen Lucca. Two years since he had helped her onto the back of her horse and sent her fleeing with their mother's jewels and what treasures they could gather quickly. He had been warned Rivellio's men were coming for him, that the powerful don meant to steal their lands and have Lucca assassinated or arrested and Isabella brought to him. Lucca had sent