Lair of the Lion

could you not save your brother?" Isabella kissed the top of her head. "We'll straighten this out, piccola. No more tears now."
    Francesca flashed a wan grin. "I can't remember ever crying before."
    Isabella laughed softly. "You do things wholeheartedly," she observed. "This, by the way, is mio fratello, Lucca."
    Francesca gratefully turned her attention to the sleeping man. He looked young and vulnerable in sleep, the lines etched into his face visible but soft in repose. Without conscious thought she touched the gray streak in his dark hair. "He's suffered, hasn't he?
    That despicable Rivellio had him tortured."
    Isabella sucked in her breath. Of course Lucca had been tortured. Rivellio would never have passed up the opportunity to inflict as much pain as possible on a Vernaducci. She hadn't allowed herself to think too closely about the atrocities her brother would suffer at the hands of the don. She nodded, reaching to touch his arm, his face, just to reassure herself he was really there.
    "Will you still trust me to watch over him?" Francesca's fingertips caressed the ribbon of gray in his hair. "I swear to you, I'll look after him." She held herself very still, waiting anxiously for the reply.
    Isabella didn't make the mistake of hesitating. Every ounce of her was aware that Francesca was extremely fragile, and one wrong word would shatter her. "With all my heart, I'd be grateful to you if you would help me to bring his health back or make his last days more comfortable."

    The DeMarco mouth tightened stubbornly. "They won't be his last days," Francesca vowed. "I won't allow anything to happen to him."
    "It's in the hands of the Madonna," Isabella reminded herself and Francesca.
    Francesca hugged her again. "I have to go. I look awful, and I don't want tuo fratello's first glimpse of me to send him screaming from beneath the coverlet."
    "I doubt if that would happen— tu sei bella." Isabella leaned to kiss her cheek as she assured Francesca she was beautiful. "But I understand the need to look just right when meeting a handsome man for the first time." She touched her brother's arm because she couldn't stop reassuring herself he was with her.
    "He will live," Francesca promised. Jumping up, she retreated to the passageway, leaving silence behind.
    Soft laughter escaped from beneath the coverlet. "You are the same, little sister, your compassionate heart unmistakable." Lucca's voice was dreamy, far away, as if the herbs in the tea had set him drifting. "Her tears were genuine. They tore at me until I wanted to hold her close. Who is she?"
    "Francesca is Don DeMarco's younger sister. I thought you were asleep." Isabella tried to remember what had been said. She didn't want Lucca anxious over her relationship with Nicolai.
    "I was asleep, in and out, and most of what I heard made no sense to me. I think I mixed up my dreams with reality, but someone should watch over her. No woman should have such a sorrow to bear."
    "Sleep, mio fratello, you're safe here, and no one is happier than tua sorella." Isabella kissed his temple and stroked the hair from his face, grateful she could sit beside him and see for herself that he was alive. After a time, she laid her head down on the coverlet and, holding his hand, allowed herself to sleep.
    She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand clasped her shoulder. Nicolai. She knew his touch. His scent. The warmth of his body. He bent to kiss the top of her head in greeting. His hand stroked a caress over her hair. "The healer says Lucca will need much care. More than you can provide alone. Sarina will help, but you will need another to stay with him during the night." His voice evinced a quiet command. He pulled her to her feet and into the shelter of his tall, muscular body. "I know you would wish to stay by his side day and night to ensure his recovery, but you would make yourself ill, and your brother would not want that. You know I'm right, Isabella."
    Isabella was too grateful for her brother's life to be upset that Nicolai was dictating the terms of Lucca's care to her. "I have asked a friend for help. She will spend the nights watching over him for me." Isabella slipped her arms around Nicolai's waist. "Grazie, Nicolai. I don't know how to thank you properly for what you've done. I don't know how to repay you." She laid her head on his chest, her ear over the steady beat of his heart. Love rose up, overwhelming her so that she felt weak with it. She knew in that moment