Lair of the Lion

bowed her head to keep him from reading her humiliating thoughts and with great dignity seated herself in the high-backed chair farthest from the fireplace. "Scusi, Signor DeMarco. Please give me news of mio fratello, as I'm quite anxious for his arrival."
    Isabella sounded so subdued, it nearly broke Nicolai's heart. She looked alone and vulnerable seated in his large chair. He desperately wanted to offer her comfort but didn't dare trust himself to get too close to her.
    "I'm afraid the news isn't good, cara mia. Lucca is quite ill, and they have been forced to stop in hopes of aiding him. The don's escort sent word promptly that they were allowing him to rest before continuing the journey."
    Isabella's dark eyes widened in shock, in fear. The compassion in Nicolai's voice was nearly her undoing. "The don's men escort him?"
    "Rivellio insisted. He wishes to aid me in any way possible," Nicolai said dryly. "I suspect he really wants a look at this valley in the hope of one day acquiring it through some treachery or battle."
    "It is likely they are killing Lucca. Don Rivellio detests mio fratello. He won't want him to live. I must go to him at once, Signor DeMarco. Please have my horse made available, and I'll pack a few things."
    Nicolai was already shaking his head. "You know that is not possible, Isabella I have sent out several of my most trusted men, and they will see to it that Lucca is well enough to travel and escort him to the castello as soon as his health permits. Rivellio's men wouldn't dare bring me a dead man."
    She jumped up from the chair and paced restlessly across the gleaming floor. The falcon flapped its wings in warning, but she sent it a single, ferocious glare, and the bird of prey settled down docilely.
    Nicolai watched her, admiring the passion in her—so much passion her shapely body could barely contain it. His own body hardened with the relentless ache of need. Of hunger.
    Possessing her might not be enough. Devouring her would not be enough. She was fire and courage, the epitome of the characteristics he wanted in himself. She was a living flame, and making love to her was an endless journey into erotic ecstasy. He wanted to yank her to him, to crush her mouth beneath his.
    She stopped directly in front of him, tilting her head back so she could look up at him.
    The action exposed the vulnerable line of her throat. Her large eyes blazed with temper, and her fingers curled into fists. "Perhaps you mistake me, signore. I did not ask for an escort. I am aware you have need of your people here. I am perfectly capable of finding my way to mio fratello." She was making every effort to speak politely, but her breath was coming fast, and even her sensual mouth gave evidence of her agitation. "I will not take a chance with Lucca's life. I prefer to make certain the don's men do not harm mio fratello in any way."
    She was so beautiful, Nicolai wanted to drag her to him, crush her perfect, trembling mouth beneath his. Crush her body beneath the weight of his and bury himself deep inside her, where there would be white-hot heat. She made him wild, something a DeMarco could ill afford. He could feel his primitive nature rising, calling to him, demanding he embrace it, demanding he take what was his and hold her against all enemies. As a precaution, he slipped farther into the shadows. Was he so much an animal that he couldn't control his passions when she was near? His body was painfully hard, his erection thick and heavy with need of her. Even now, when he was delivering news that upset her, he hungered for the lush pleasures of her body. It was a frightening thought that the beast was gaining control faster than he expected.
    "I did not misunderstand you, Isabella." His voice was gruff, a soft, warning growl escaping from deep within his throat. "I have many enemies who would love to get their hands on you, Rivellio being one of them. You are protected in this valley, and you will not leave."
    Her eyebrows shot up. "That is ludicrous! I am no longer your betrothed. You have only to announce it to the world, and the threat is gone. In any case, I'm evidently in more danger here than I would be anywhere else—you told me so yourself. Nicolai, I am not running away from you. I'll return immediately. You know I must go to Lucca."
    "And you know I cannot allow it." His voice was quiet, purring with menace.
    With anyone other than Isabella, that dangerous note in his voice would have been warning