Lair of the Lion

seduction before we are wed." She was excited at the prospect of going with him and hastily pulled on her shoes. "Should I put on a gown?"

    His amber gaze gleamed at her, moved over her body, left her weak. "No, I like knowing you're wearing nothing beneath the robe. No one will see us." He took her hand. "You'll be safe with me." He carried her fingertips to his lips, his breath warm on her skin. "I don't know how safe I'll be with you."
    Her heart was pounding loudly, but she went without hesitation. "I'll look after you, Signor DeMarco, have no fear."
    "I had good and noble intentions," he told her as they moved into the narrow hidden corridor. "It isn't my fault that I found you without attire." His white teeth flashed at her, that boyish smile that stole her heart. "I thought that only happened in my dreams."
    "Do you often dream of women without clothes?" There was the smallest bite to her voice, despite her obvious amusement.
    Nicolai glanced down at her, his grin widening. "Only since I've met you. Hold tightly to my hand—otherwise, I won't be responsible for any exploring it might do."
    Isabella laughed, and the light, carefree sound traveled through the maze of hidden corridors, awakening things better left alone. "Your hand has no direction unless you give it leave," she pointed out.
    He wiggled his fingers so that they brushed enticingly against her hip. "No, they are entirely on their own in this matter. I plead innocence." He brought her hand to the warmth of his lips. "I love your skin." His teeth nibbled gently at her knuckles, his tongue swirling a caress over the pulse in her wrist.
    Her eyes were wide and dark as she looked at him, half in love, half afraid.
    Don DeMarco smiled at her. "You'll love this, Isabella."
    She blinked up at him, shocked at the way her body seemed to belong to him. His every gesture, every movement, tempted and seduced her. "I'm certain I will."
    She followed him through the long tunnels of stairs and passageways, her hand tightly in his. She was acutely aware of the power he exuded, the supreme confidence, the width of his shoulders and the strength of his body. She was aware he made no sound when he walked. None. She heard only the soft padding of her own shoes on the floor.
    Nicolai pushed at a section of the wall, and it slowly swung outward. He stepped back so Isabella could see. The cold hit her first, an icy blast that pierced her robe and went straight to her skin, but then she was staring in awe at the countryside. It was a pristine, glistening white. Snow hung in the trees and covered the slopes. Icicles spiraled from the eaves of the palazzo. The full moon reflected off the snow, turning night into day. The mountains sparkled like jewels, a breathtaking scene she would never forget.
    "You're shivering," he said softly. "Let's get you under the furs." He scooped her up close so that his body heat could seep into her.
    Isabella relaxed in his arms as if she belonged there. He carried her to where two horses were waiting, harnessed to what looked like a carriage on runners. He placed Isabella on the padded seat, settled next to her, and tucked thick furs around her. "What is this?" She had never seen such a thing before.
    "Betto made me one when I was very small. He carved the wooden runners and secured them to an old conveyance my parents didn't use anymore. It was smaller than this one, but it went over the snow fast. I had this one made recently and thought we should try it out."
    Isabella snuggled deeper beneath the furs, curling her fingers together in an effort to stay warm. Nicolai tugged a pair of fur gloves from the pocket of his jacket and put them on her hands. They were far too large but very warm, and the simple, thoughtful gesture sent butterfly wings fluttering in her stomach.
    "Are you warm enough?" he asked. "I can get another fur if we need it."
    Isabella shook her head. "I'm very warm, grazie. What exactly are we doing?"
    "It feels like flying might feel." He shook the reins, and the horses began a slow walk, dragging the carriage behind them.
    As the animals picked up speed, the conveyance began to skim over the snow, gliding smoothly through the white crystals. Isabella clutched at Nicolai's arm and lifted her face to the wind. It was beautiful. Perfect. The two of them were locked in a world of white, skimming over the snow fast enough to make her heart soar.
    The countryside was beautiful, the air crisp and fresh. Isabella found herself