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frightened rabbit, she dared not move or speak. In any case, she knew
with certainty that struggling wouldn't do her any good. Don Scarletti was a
man who got his way.
    The manservant who had shown them in arrived a little out of breath. His clothes
were a trifle disheveled, as if he had dressed on the run. His eyes widened at
the sight of Nicoletta and Sophie in his master's arms, but he was discreet
enough not to comment.
    "See to the debris, Gostanz," Don Scarletti ordered, moving past
the man without so much as looking at him.
    Nicoletta held her breath, still not daring to move or speak. The don's body
was hard and hot and unspeakably male. As he carried her and Sophie through the
massive halls, she noted ribbed archways and domes, automatically attempting to
remember the way, but he was moving very quickly. Maria Pia was nearly running
to keep up. The spiral staircase they ascended was wide and ornate, the
banister shaped like a golden snake curled around a long, twisting, golden
branch. Maria Pia was afraid to touch it, muttering a multitude of prayers as
she climbed. Ordinarily Nicoletta would have found Maria Pia's superstitions
amusing, but being in the don's arms, tight against his chest, unnerved her.
    The nursery was along another long, vaulted hallway, but the room had a
smaller, less intricate interior. No sculptures of mythical creatures, no
sinister gargoyles preparing to do battle threatened here. However, dark, heavy
tapestries covered the wall from ceiling to floor behind the bedstead, and the
room was cold, with no logs on the hearth. The don placed Nicoletta and her
tiny charge carefully on the bed. He patted Sophie's head rather absently, his
attention still centered on Nicoletta.
    "Look at me." He said the words very softly. His voice was a
weapon, seductive, tempting, an invitation to something beyond her
comprehension.
    She was uncomfortably aware of her own body, how soft and curved it had felt
against the hard strength of his. And then there was that strange current that
ran between them, arcing and crackling with a life she didn't understand. She
only knew that his voice was soft and could move over her skin like the touch
of his fingers, and that if she dared look into his eyes, she might be trapped
there for all time.
    Nicoletta stubbornly shook her head, her eyes averted, looking resolutely
down. The don, clearly exasperated with her defiance, caught her chin in firm
fingers and forced her head up so that her dark eyes met his gaze. For a moment
they stared at one another. His eyes were beautiful, black as obsidian,
glittering like gems. Hypnotic. Fathomless. She felt a curious sensation, as if
she might be falling. The feeling was so real, her fingers curled around the
coverlet to anchor her to safety.
    She felt a stirring in her mind, a warmth. She was losing her resistance,
helplessly drowning in the seduction of his eyes. In her lap, Sophie squirmed,
already worn out by the brief activity. From somewhere down the hall, Nicoletta
heard a door close with a soft thud. For some reason the sound seemed sinister
in the gloom of the nursery. It was enough to break the spell. With a supreme
effort she pulled her gaze away from his and looked around the chamber,
blinking rapidly to bring the room into focus. It felt as if she were waking
from a dream. The flame from one small candle gave off so little light, every
corner seemed filled with shadows.
    Nicoletta sighed softly. As high as the ceilings were, as large and spacious
as the palazzo was, as ornate and luxurious, she preferred the outdoors, the
sea and the mountains, the small huts. There was something very wrong in this
house; she could feel it. And the don was much more dangerous than anyone had
thought. She turned her attention to the child, slipping her into the bed
beside her, fussing as she tucked the coverlet around her. She was aware of Don
Scarletti towering over her in frustration, but she steadfastly refused to look
up again. She