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Authors: Iris Johansen
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he muttered as he turned away. "And then
bring her to my chamber."
Lorenzo followed Lion from Giulia's room, down the hall, and into Lion's chamber. He
strolled to the table across the room and poured a stream of red wine from a silver pitcher
into two goblets. "Have a little wine." He turned to hand one of the goblets to Lion, his
gaze flicking mockingly to Lion's lower body. "I think you need cooling."
"Is that why you took me to 'intercede'?" Lion sat down in the large chair by the window.
"What game are you playing at now, Lorenzo?"
"I don't know what you mean." Lorenzo gazed at him with limpid innocence. "Your little
street urchin seemed very concerned about learning what and who you are, and I thought
it would be a kindness to throw you both into a situation where revelations would
naturally occur." He smiled. "Which they did. I had no idea Sanchia would be so alluring.
She has truly exquisite breasts."
"Yes." Lion's hand tightened on the stem of his goblet as the memory of Sanchia clad
only in wisps of steam and cloudy water returned to him. "But I didn't buy her to occupy
my bed."
"I know. Which makes the possibilities all the more intriguing." Lorenzo dropped onto
the embroidered cushions of the chair by the table and raised his goblet to his lips. "I look
forward with great anticipation to watching developments between the two of you."
"You mean you look forward to watching us writhe on the stake you're trying to skewer
us with," Lion said dryly. "I doubt if we'll furnish you with as much pleasure as you
hope. I don't know why you foresee my bedding Sanchia to be in any way unusual when
I've had more women than I can count in these last years."
"Ah, but there's one difference. You own Sanchia. She belongs to you." Lorenzo's gaze
narrowed with satisfaction on Lion's face. "And no one in this world is more possessive
than you, Lion. You can't bear to let anything you own be taken away from you. Look
how you're moving heaven and earth to get the Wind Dancer back, and it's only a statue."
Lion's fingers tightened on the stem of the goblet. "It's more than a statue."
"To your family perhaps." Lorenzo shrugged. "To you it's some kind of holy relic you
guard and protect. To me it seems more like a beautiful siren luring men to destruction."
"Sanchia isn't the Wind Dancer."
"No, but as your property she's bound to arouse the same instincts." Lorenzo sipped his
wine, smiling at Lion over the rim of the goblet. "What do you think will happen when
you take her to Mandara?"
"I'm not taking her to Mandara."
Lorenzo lifted a brow. "She said you told her you were taking her there."
"That was before I... " Lion trailed off, his dark brows knotting in a fierce frown as he
took a long swallow of wine.
"Before you decided to take her to your bed?"
Lion met his gaze. "Yes." The intention that had been forming since the moment he had
seen Sanchia in the hip bath was suddenly made. "Why not? As you say, she belongs to
me."
"There's no reason at all why you shouldn't take her." Lorenzo looked down into the ruby
depths of his wine. "I thoroughly approve."
"Which should immediately make me wary. Why do you want Sanchia to become my
mistress?"
"I admire her."
Lion gazed at him in astonishment. He couldn't remember the last time Lorenzo had
indicated he felt anything positive for a stranger. True, admiration wasn't liking, but the
confession was still out of the ordinary.
Lorenzo noticed his surprise. "No, it's true. She reminds me of myself when I was
growing up in the streets of Naples. She fights with every weapon she has to survive and
invents new ones when the old ones don't win the day." He shrugged. "It's a pity she has
such a soft heart. It's a weakness that will probably destroy her."
"And because you admire her, you want to put her in my bed."
"It will give her a weapon. She has none against you now. The child has the ridiculous
belief that promises must be kept. You'd think she would have learned better
bring her to my chamber."
Lorenzo followed Lion from Giulia's room, down the hall, and into Lion's chamber. He
strolled to the table across the room and poured a stream of red wine from a silver pitcher
into two goblets. "Have a little wine." He turned to hand one of the goblets to Lion, his
gaze flicking mockingly to Lion's lower body. "I think you need cooling."
"Is that why you took me to 'intercede'?" Lion sat down in the large chair by the window.
"What game are you playing at now, Lorenzo?"
"I don't know what you mean." Lorenzo gazed at him with limpid innocence. "Your little
street urchin seemed very concerned about learning what and who you are, and I thought
it would be a kindness to throw you both into a situation where revelations would
naturally occur." He smiled. "Which they did. I had no idea Sanchia would be so alluring.
She has truly exquisite breasts."
"Yes." Lion's hand tightened on the stem of his goblet as the memory of Sanchia clad
only in wisps of steam and cloudy water returned to him. "But I didn't buy her to occupy
my bed."
"I know. Which makes the possibilities all the more intriguing." Lorenzo dropped onto
the embroidered cushions of the chair by the table and raised his goblet to his lips. "I look
forward with great anticipation to watching developments between the two of you."
"You mean you look forward to watching us writhe on the stake you're trying to skewer
us with," Lion said dryly. "I doubt if we'll furnish you with as much pleasure as you
hope. I don't know why you foresee my bedding Sanchia to be in any way unusual when
I've had more women than I can count in these last years."
"Ah, but there's one difference. You own Sanchia. She belongs to you." Lorenzo's gaze
narrowed with satisfaction on Lion's face. "And no one in this world is more possessive
than you, Lion. You can't bear to let anything you own be taken away from you. Look
how you're moving heaven and earth to get the Wind Dancer back, and it's only a statue."
Lion's fingers tightened on the stem of the goblet. "It's more than a statue."
"To your family perhaps." Lorenzo shrugged. "To you it's some kind of holy relic you
guard and protect. To me it seems more like a beautiful siren luring men to destruction."
"Sanchia isn't the Wind Dancer."
"No, but as your property she's bound to arouse the same instincts." Lorenzo sipped his
wine, smiling at Lion over the rim of the goblet. "What do you think will happen when
you take her to Mandara?"
"I'm not taking her to Mandara."
Lorenzo lifted a brow. "She said you told her you were taking her there."
"That was before I... " Lion trailed off, his dark brows knotting in a fierce frown as he
took a long swallow of wine.
"Before you decided to take her to your bed?"
Lion met his gaze. "Yes." The intention that had been forming since the moment he had
seen Sanchia in the hip bath was suddenly made. "Why not? As you say, she belongs to
me."
"There's no reason at all why you shouldn't take her." Lorenzo looked down into the ruby
depths of his wine. "I thoroughly approve."
"Which should immediately make me wary. Why do you want Sanchia to become my
mistress?"
"I admire her."
Lion gazed at him in astonishment. He couldn't remember the last time Lorenzo had
indicated he felt anything positive for a stranger. True, admiration wasn't liking, but the
confession was still out of the ordinary.
Lorenzo noticed his surprise. "No, it's true. She reminds me of myself when I was
growing up in the streets of Naples. She fights with every weapon she has to survive and
invents new ones when the old ones don't win the day." He shrugged. "It's a pity she has
such a soft heart. It's a weakness that will probably destroy her."
"And because you admire her, you want to put her in my bed."
"It will give her a weapon. She has none against you now. The child has the ridiculous
belief that promises must be kept. You'd think she would have learned better
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