Lair of the Lion

stretching her carefully. He pushed deep inside her, watching the shadows leave her eyes. Her body was slick and hot and soft, open to him. Her hips found the rhythm of his fingers, rising to meet him eagerly.
    Suddenly his head went up alertly, as if he had heard something she had not. He withdrew his fingers from her body and caught at the coverlet, rolling her into it. "You're about to have company, but we aren't through here, cara. Not by any means. You are to wed me soon, Isabella. I want you in my bed." He was fast doing up his breeches and straightening his clothes. "What are we to do with this gown?"
    He wasn't nearly as calm as he would have liked her to think. Isabella took great satisfaction in watching him struggle to breathe normally. A small, contented smile flitted across her face. "Perhaps we could say you were wounded and I sacrificed my beautiful gown to provide bandages." She found some solace in knowing that her body wasn't the only one throbbing and burning for release.
    He thrust the shredded dress into her wardrobe. The material was frothy, and he was forced to bunch it up. It spilled out several times before he was finally able to close the door to hide it. Isabella pulled the coverlet up to her mouth to muffle her laughter.
    "I am saving your reputation," he pointed out, trying not to laugh himself at the absurdity of fearing his housekeeper when he had faced a lion without flinching. "When I was a small boy, Sarina could lecture me as no other in the castello. Do not think because she has aged that she is any less fearsome. She has a cold eye and stern voice. You will not escape unscathed should she catch us."
    Isabella lifted an eyebrow, then assumed her most innocent and guileless expression—
    the one she had perfected as a young girl when her father took her to task. Observing her very believable expression, Nicolai groaned. "You wouldn't dare blame me."
    " I have no knowledge of such things." She even sounded innocent. "You are my betrothed and my don. I only do as you bid me." Curious, she looked at him. "How do you know it is Sarina coming?"
    He shrugged his powerful shoulders. "I have good hearing and an acute sense of smell."
    He bent to nibble her neck. "You smell so wonderful I could eat you."
    For a moment their eyes locked, and Isabella melted inside. There was a quick knock on the door, and Sarina entered carrying a tea tray. She gasped as she saw the don sitting on the edge of Isabella's bed. Hastily she averted her eyes from him, going very pale. "I'm sorry, I had no idea you were in here, Don DeMarco." Still she managed to sound disapproving. "I came to help Isabella prepare for bed. It is much too late for her to have visitors." She set the tray on the nightstand beside the bed and busied herself pouring tea, pursing her lips as she did so. "And male visitors shouldn't be in her bedchamber without my presence."
    "Male visitors shouldn't be in her bedchamber at all," Nicolai commented dryly.
    Isabella would have laughed at Sarina's scolding at any other time, but she couldn't abandon him, not when Sarina wouldn't even look at him. She reached for his hand and held it tightly. "I was nearly hysterical after the confrontation with the lion, Sarina. Nicolai was good enough to soothe me, as we knew you were busy with Betto. How is he?" Without thinking, she brought Nicolai's hand to her mouth, pressing her lips against his knuckles.
    Sarina watched her. Instead of evincing disapproval, her eyes widened in surprise, and pure joy spread across her face. She took a deep breath and looked directly at the don. At once her expression softened. "It is a wonderful and great gift to look upon you, Don DeMarco. I had given up hope."
    Nicolai touched his face, then reached out to touch Sarina's. She didn't flinch but beamed at him. "How is this possible?" he asked. His hand slipped from Isabella's as he reached to frame his housekeeper's face.
    Fear blossomed in the woman, and she stepped away from him. Immediately he dropped his hands to his sides, his handsome face hardening perceptibly.
    "Take her hand," Sarina instructed softly. "Don DeMarco, take Isabella's hand."
    He did so, and lions roared. The sound erupted throughout the castello, reverberating through every floor so that for a brief moment the walls of the palazzo shook. Sarina didn't even flinch as the sound died away, leaving a vacuum of silence.
    "It is Isabella," the housekeeper said. "It is Isabella."
    Isabella had no idea