The Wind Dancer (35 page)

"I belong to you." He said softly. "Say it."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"It's true, you know. I belong to you, just as you belong to me. Say it."

"You... belong to me."

"Forever."

Stunned, she gazed speechlessly at him.

He pressed her palm harder against his chest. The beating of his heart seemed in some
mysterious fashion to beat within her. "Forever, Sanchia."

"It cannot be."

"We will talk of it later." He slid her hand slowly down his body to clasp it around his
manhood. He held it there as a shudder racked through him. "Dear God, I can't wait any
longer. Will you take me into you?"

His face was drawn as if in pain, and she felt a sudden surge of tenderness that swept
away her last reservations. Why was she hesitating when she had known when she left
the hall she would not be able to stop herself from yielding? "I think I... must."

"Thank the saints." He took her hand from him and stepped forward, his hands on her
gown. He stopped. "Remove it quickly or I swear I'll have to push up your skirts and take
you as I did on that pile of hay in the barn. Cristo, what I'd give for a bed at this
moment."

There was no furniture at all in the chamber, she realized as she glanced around dazedly,
only a rug thrown down before the hearth.

"Hurry, I cannot wait long and my hands are shaking so that I can do nothing but
fumble."

Her hands were trembling, too, but she managed to strip off the gown and undershift. She
was reaching down to take off her slippers when she felt his hands on her waist lifting
her. "Clasp me," he muttered. "Your legs... "

Her limbs encircled his hips and he was pressing against her, into her, with frantic
urgency. He sank home.

Her neck arched back as she gave a low cry. Ridged fullness. Deep. So deep.

His palms cupped her buttocks and held her to him, forcing her to take all of him. She
heard him mutter something beneath his breath. A curse, a prayer... She could not tell
which it was.

"Hold on." His palms kneaded the rounded flesh of her buttocks as he stood still, his eyes
shut, his nostrils flaring with each breath. "Tighter."

"I cannot... " Still, she tried, and heard him groan deep in his throat as if he were in
agony.

Then he was sinking to his knees on the floor, lowering her so that her naked back rested
on the rug as he plunged in and out of her body in a rhythm both primitive and forceful.

Completion. Joining. Sanchia bit her lower lip to keep from screaming as jolt after jolt of
sensation rocked through her. His hands were petting her, his fingers pressing, rotating.
"Sanchia, it must... " His hips moved back and forth in a flurry of short, hard thrusts.
"May I give to you? Please let... "

He was entreating her. The knowledge filled her with wonder. He moved with raw, blind
sensuality, taking, giving and yet he was pleading with her for acceptance.

"Give... to me." Her words were little more than a whisper as her limbs tightened
strongly around his hips. "Give!" She arched up helplessly as the pleasure burst through
her, spasming, exploding.

He pulled her upright on him again, crushing her close as his own pleasure peaked and
then soared.

He rocked her back and forth, breathing low, whispering love words into her ear. His lips
moved yearningly across her cheek to the corner of her lips. "Sanchia, did I not tell you?
We must have this. How can we live without it?"

At the moment she didn't think she could live without it. She was part of him. He was
part of her. Pleasure... possession... passion... Nothing had ever seemed more natural than
having Lion within her, having his hands caressing her naked back, having his lips on her
lips.

He raised his head. "Thank you,
cara
." His voice was grave.

She buried her cheek on the soft wiry mat on his chest and his fingers reached up to
tangle in her hair. "Why do you not speak?"

"I don't know what to say. I'm too full--" She broke off as she felt the reverberation of
his laughter beneath her ear and she realized her unintentional play on words. "Well, that
too."

He flexed lazily within her. "If you think I'm going to leave you yet, you are very much
mistaken. I've waited too long to reach this haven to withdraw until I've sated both of us."
He pushed her away from him to smile down at her with surprising sweetness. "I think
you'll like this game far better than chess. Shall we move to another square? There are
many strategies left to test."

"Not yet. I'm not sure how I even came to this point."

"I am sure." His hands cupped her breasts. "And it was not the vino. I seduced you. I
think I did it very well considering I've never attempted to lure a woman to my bed
before. My nature is usually too rough and blunt for seduction. I would never have
succeeded if you hadn't already wanted me as much as I wanted you." His hand moved
down and began to stroke her belly. "Do you believe it possible I've given you a child?"
He laughed softly. "Do you feel me stir? I grow ready just thinking about my child
moving in you and--" He broke off as he felt her stiffening against him. "Sanchia?"

"I didn't consider a child. I didn't... " Panic was rising within her. "How could I be so
stupid?" She began to struggle but he held her immovable against him. "Let me go,
Lion."

"No." His voice was fierce. "You want to be here." His hand lay heavy on her belly and
he began to rub slowly back and forth. "And you want my child in your womb. I used no
force. You took my seed willingly."

"The child would be a bastard and I a whore. I've lived only a shadow life since the
moment I was born, and now you want me to live in those shadows for the rest of my
life." Her hands pushed at his shoulders. "I should not have done this. I should not have
let you--"

"Do you think I would not give you marriage if I could?" His hands grasped her
shoulders with bruising force. "Do you want me to murder Bianca so that I can take you
as my wife?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "No, I didn't mean--" "I cannot undo my marriage. As God
is my witness, I wish I could." His eyes were fierce in his set face. "I cannot make you
my wife. I can only make you my love."

"Love?" she whispered.

"It must be love. I told you I had feeling for you. What else could it be?"

"You did not say you loved me."

"The word is hard for me." His hands opened and closed on her shoulders. "I've never
said it before." He burst out, "I've never felt it before. I can't say I like it. It twists my gut
and makes me want to smash something."

"It doesn't sound like love."

The fierceness faded from his expression as he looked down at her. "It also makes me
wish to... treasure you. To care for your needs and protect and defend you." He slowly
lifted her off him. "And to have you feel something besides lust for me. I know I can
rouse you to want to lie with me but--Why do you sit there and say nothing?"

"I'm confused. I never expected you to say these words."

"And I never expected to say them." He gazed at her directly. "You have no love for
me?"

"I don't know." She shivered. "
Dio
, I hope not."

A flicker of pain crossed his face. "You are honest, at least." He shrugged. "So I must
depend on lust to draw you to me. It was no more than I anticipated. Lust and perhaps my
child in your body." He turned toward the fire.

She began dressing quickly, in a fever to be gone.

He glanced over his shoulder. "You're in a great hurry. Do you think I mean to keep you
locked here in my tower room to use for my pleasure?"

"Of course not." Her trembling fingers made a futile attempt to tidy her hair. "I've already
been in one prison for your sake. You would not cast me into another." She moved
toward the door.

"Unless I cast myself into it with you."

She undid the bolt and threw open the door. "And you would not do such a foolish thing.
You love your freedom too much."

"Sanchia."

She stopped, not looking at him.

"Do you believe me when I say I love you?"

"I don't know." She turned to face him. "I have a question for you. Was it your intention
to lure me here only to get me with child?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you capable of it."

"You're quite right." His smile was bittersweet. "I'm capable of most acts of ruthlessness,
but I thought you knew I had no liking for deception."

She was again aware of pain beneath the toughness he wore like armor, and that
perception awoke an answering hurt within herself so sharp she instinctively took a half
step toward him. "I do know you're an honest man. I did not mean... " She shook her head
wearily. "I spoke without thinking. I didn't believe I would be so weak as to let you
couple with me again. It frightens me to realize I'm not as strong as I thought I was." She
straightened and gazed intently at him. "But it will not happen again. I am on guard
now."

"It will happen again," he said quietly. "And again and again. I'll waylay you in the
garden, I'll pull you into any vacant chamber that has a bed, a quilt, or a cushion on the
floor. It will keep on happening until you admit you want what we're doing more than
food or drink or sleep. Until you let me take you away from here to live with me."

He meant it. Once again Sanchia felt panic rising within her. She muttered an
exclamation that was half despair, half protest, turned and fled from the chamber and
down the spiral steps.

She stopped at the bottom of the first flight of stairs and leaned her cheek against the cold
stone of the wall. She could not go back to the hall and face Caterina and Bianca. She had
betrayed both of them. She had betrayed herself. She could feel the tears sting her eyes as
she ran down two more flights of stairs and along the corridor toward Bianca's chamber.
She would go to bed. She would go to sleep and not think of Lion or the way his face had
looked when he had said he loved her or her own agonizing response to his words. It
couldn't be love between them. Wouldn't love bring joy? Marco and Bianca loved each
other and the joy shone from their faces. Surely if she loved Lion, it would be the same?

The tears were running down Sanchia's cheeks as she paused outside Bianca's chamber.
She had forgotten Bianca's maid, Anna, would be waiting up for her mistress. Sanchia
could not arouse Anna's curiosity with these stupid tears or she would doubtless mention
it to Bianca.

She turned and ran down the hall to the chamber which Piero occupied next door, quietly
opened the door, and slipped into the room. The fire in the fireplace had burned low and
only the orange-red embers sparked up the chimney. The faint glow revealed Piero's fair
hair gleaming on the pillow on the big bed across the room, and Sanchia immediately felt
as if a cool, soothing hand had been laid upon her heart. Here was a love with no pain, a
love that would leave her with honor
and
independence. Whole. She moved closer to the
bed and looked down at Piero. His long lashes curved on his round cheek, and he
appeared even younger than his six years now that she could no longer see the wariness
in those bright blue eyes.

Even as the thought occurred to her, his eyes opened to gaze up at her. He was instantly
awake. "Sanchia."

"Shh, all is well. I wanted to make sure you were sleeping." She tucked the coverlet more
closely around him. "It was a fine, splendid party. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

He raised himself on one elbow. "Why are you crying?"

She wiped her eyes swiftly with the back of her hand. "No reason. I'm merely tired."

"You don't cry when you're tired. Is your hand hurting?"

"No, next week I'll take off the splints and it will be quite well." She reached out and
smoothed his hair. "Go back to sleep. I'll sit here awhile."

His gaze searched her face and then he shook his head. "Lie down. I want you to hold me
until I go to sleep. Will you do that, Sanchia?"

She hesitated and then lay down on the bed beside him. "Why do you want me to hold
you? Are you afraid of the dark?"

"Of course not. I'm not afraid of anything." The denial came fiercely. "I just thought it
would be... nice." His arms came around her and he held her tightly. "Good night,
Sanchia."

"Good night, Piero," she whispered. Her throat was so tight she could scarcely speak. She
was obviously not lying here to comfort, but to be comforted. Piero, with that instinctive
wisdom he had learned so young, had comprehended her pain and bewilderment and was
trying to soothe it in the only way he knew how. Her heart swelled with poignant
tenderness as she nestled closer to the warmth of Piero's small body.

Yes, this was the only love she wanted in her life. This was the best kind of love.

"You've made this garden into an Elysian field." Lorenzo's gaze ran admiringly over the
rows and rows of brilliant blooms as they walked slowly toward the arbor. "I've always
liked to stroll among your roses."

"You've phrased it well. For over thirty years I've wrested peace and forgetfulness from
this earth." Caterina's proud gaze followed Lorenzo's. "The castle grounds were
overgrown, a tangle of thorn bushes when I came here as a bride." She paused to touch
the petals of one full-blown damask rose before strolling on. "And the castle was in little
better condition than the grounds. Carlo's father had been without a wife for over ten
years and the servants had grown lazy without a mistress. It was foul as a pigsty. But I set
to work and soon had it in order."

"I'm sure you did." Lorenzo smiled at her. "I can see you tearing through the castle with a
broom in one hand and a whip in the other."

She shook her head. "I was not then as I am now. I had just reached my thirteenth year
when I was given to Carlo in marriage and my home was very different from Mandara."