chamber and then stopped short. "My God, what's happened here?"
Clothing was tossed all over the chamber as if blown by a gale wind, Giulia Marzo's
golden hair was hanging loose about her shoulders, the rope of pearls usually binding it
had broken and pearls were scattered over the floor. The bodice of her sea blue gown
bore a three-cornered rip and torrents of water were splashed on the floor, on Giulia, and
on the two servants holding the struggling Sanchia in the hip bath while Giulia attempted
to scrub her.
Sanchia's gaze flew to Lion and she suddenly stopped fighting. "They wouldn't listen to
me. I tried to tell them that it wouldn't do any good."
"She stinks," Giulia said between her teeth. "Lorenzo tells me this she-devil belongs to
you, but I won't have her in my house until I've purged her of this vile odor." Giulia
dipped a cloth into the water and then scrubbed vigorously at Sanchia's neck.
"You're hurting me." Sanchia's amber eyes blazed up at Giulia. "And it will do no good.
I'm clean!"
She certainly appeared clean, Lion noticed bemusedly. The golden skin on Sanchia's
shoulders gleamed above the cloudy water, and she wasn't nearly as thin as he had
believed when she had worn that loose gown.
"Tell her to listen to--" Sanchia broke off as she met Lion's gaze. Her eyes widened, and
she stared at him as if mesmerized while a delicate pink tinted the gold of her cheeks.
Then she swallowed and drew a shaky breath. "Please, my lord, tell her to stop."
Lion gazed at her without speaking.
"Please, my lord." Sanchia's amber eyes were enormous in her triangular face.
"I do like a woman who says please."
There was an intensity in his soft voice that caused Giulia to look at him sharply over her
shoulder. "Lion, don't interfere. This is necessary."
"Her body looks clean enough to me." He dropped down on the cushioned chair a few
yards away from the tub and stretched his legs out before him. His intent gaze returned to
Sanchia's pink-tipped breasts which could be glimpsed just below the surface of the
water. The god Eros couldn't have created nipples more arousingly pointed and
amazingly sensual. "There's no use scraping and reddening that exquisite skin if there's
no need, Giulia."
"But the stench is--"
"It's my
hair
," Sanchia broke in with exasperation. "If you'd listened to me, I would have
told you. Every morning after my bath I rub a mixture into it. It's my hair that stinks and
needs cleansing."
Giulia sat back on her heels and gazed blankly at Sanchia. "You rub something this foul-smelling into your hair?"
Sanchia nodded. "Since I was twelve. Garlic, fish oil, and--"
Giulia quickly held up her hand. "Don't go on. I don't want to know."
"I do," Lorenzo said from the doorway. "Fascinating."
Lion's gaze narrowed on her face. "I'm not as interested in the mixture itself as in her
reason for concocting it."
"Giovanni has a very keen sense of smell," Sanchia said simply. "When my mother was
alive, every morning he would make her bathe and perfume herself. Then he'd have her
kneel naked on the floor of the shop and take her as a dog takes a bitch in the street. After
my mother died I knew that soon I'd be old enough for Giovanni to try to use me in the
same way."
Lorenzo chuckled. "You chose an exceptionally powerful deterrent."
Lion didn't feel the same amusement. He found he was experiencing a multitude of wild
emotions that took him completely off guard. Anger and pity battled with an odd sense of
guilt at the mental image that persisted in coming before his eyes. The image of Sanchia
kneeling naked on the floor, looking back over her shoulder with those huge amber eyes,
her pink tongue moistening her lips with nervousness.
Lust seared him, twisting through his groin in a scalding tide as he realized that the man
in his imagination, the man at whom she was gazing, the man she was ready to receive
into her body, was not Giovanni Ballano.
It was himself.
He abruptly rose to his feet. "Wash her hair,"
Clothing was tossed all over the chamber as if blown by a gale wind, Giulia Marzo's
golden hair was hanging loose about her shoulders, the rope of pearls usually binding it
had broken and pearls were scattered over the floor. The bodice of her sea blue gown
bore a three-cornered rip and torrents of water were splashed on the floor, on Giulia, and
on the two servants holding the struggling Sanchia in the hip bath while Giulia attempted
to scrub her.
Sanchia's gaze flew to Lion and she suddenly stopped fighting. "They wouldn't listen to
me. I tried to tell them that it wouldn't do any good."
"She stinks," Giulia said between her teeth. "Lorenzo tells me this she-devil belongs to
you, but I won't have her in my house until I've purged her of this vile odor." Giulia
dipped a cloth into the water and then scrubbed vigorously at Sanchia's neck.
"You're hurting me." Sanchia's amber eyes blazed up at Giulia. "And it will do no good.
I'm clean!"
She certainly appeared clean, Lion noticed bemusedly. The golden skin on Sanchia's
shoulders gleamed above the cloudy water, and she wasn't nearly as thin as he had
believed when she had worn that loose gown.
"Tell her to listen to--" Sanchia broke off as she met Lion's gaze. Her eyes widened, and
she stared at him as if mesmerized while a delicate pink tinted the gold of her cheeks.
Then she swallowed and drew a shaky breath. "Please, my lord, tell her to stop."
Lion gazed at her without speaking.
"Please, my lord." Sanchia's amber eyes were enormous in her triangular face.
"I do like a woman who says please."
There was an intensity in his soft voice that caused Giulia to look at him sharply over her
shoulder. "Lion, don't interfere. This is necessary."
"Her body looks clean enough to me." He dropped down on the cushioned chair a few
yards away from the tub and stretched his legs out before him. His intent gaze returned to
Sanchia's pink-tipped breasts which could be glimpsed just below the surface of the
water. The god Eros couldn't have created nipples more arousingly pointed and
amazingly sensual. "There's no use scraping and reddening that exquisite skin if there's
no need, Giulia."
"But the stench is--"
"It's my
hair
," Sanchia broke in with exasperation. "If you'd listened to me, I would have
told you. Every morning after my bath I rub a mixture into it. It's my hair that stinks and
needs cleansing."
Giulia sat back on her heels and gazed blankly at Sanchia. "You rub something this foul-smelling into your hair?"
Sanchia nodded. "Since I was twelve. Garlic, fish oil, and--"
Giulia quickly held up her hand. "Don't go on. I don't want to know."
"I do," Lorenzo said from the doorway. "Fascinating."
Lion's gaze narrowed on her face. "I'm not as interested in the mixture itself as in her
reason for concocting it."
"Giovanni has a very keen sense of smell," Sanchia said simply. "When my mother was
alive, every morning he would make her bathe and perfume herself. Then he'd have her
kneel naked on the floor of the shop and take her as a dog takes a bitch in the street. After
my mother died I knew that soon I'd be old enough for Giovanni to try to use me in the
same way."
Lorenzo chuckled. "You chose an exceptionally powerful deterrent."
Lion didn't feel the same amusement. He found he was experiencing a multitude of wild
emotions that took him completely off guard. Anger and pity battled with an odd sense of
guilt at the mental image that persisted in coming before his eyes. The image of Sanchia
kneeling naked on the floor, looking back over her shoulder with those huge amber eyes,
her pink tongue moistening her lips with nervousness.
Lust seared him, twisting through his groin in a scalding tide as he realized that the man
in his imagination, the man at whom she was gazing, the man she was ready to receive
into her body, was not Giovanni Ballano.
It was himself.
He abruptly rose to his feet. "Wash her hair,"
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