Bella Donna

and his words carried weight.

Marco shook each of their hands in turn. “Thank you, my friends.”

It had taken all his skills to persuade them not to impose the beating, arguing with a tightness in his gut at the thought of bringing the lash down on her skin. They had not agreed to cancel it completely, but this was a victory of sorts. He could have sent her away, could have hidden her, but then he would have lost the trust and respect of his men. And he needed them to follow him tonight.

They had listened to him, reluctantly at first, then admitting he was right in insisting that they should not be distracted before such an important mission.

He tried to concentrate on the rest of the discussion about tactics for tonight, but his eyes and ears were alert for Emma returning from her bath. Granting her access to the water and clean clothes had been the only thing he could do for her. God knew he’d caused her enough discomfort. Now he would have the pleasure of telling her of the reprieve. He wanted her warm and pliant in his arms, grateful, passionate, giving-

He shifted impatiently on his stool. Surely Emma had been away longer than necessary? Ever since he’d first laid eyes on her he never wanted to let her out of his sight, wanted her within touching distance. When this was all over, he would take her to his estate and treat her like a queen. She would have a soft bed, fragrant linen, succulent fruits and wine. He would tend her, answer her every whim. His balls tightened at the thought of her silken limbs, of her warm, moist cunt, ready for him. And he would be in her bed, pleasuring her, loving her.

He caught himself. Loving her? Was that what this was, when you ached with longing every moment you were apart? When you prized her safety above all else?

A sudden noise at the opening to the cave startled him, pulling him from his reverie, and he looked up as someone burst into the cave at a full run. He sprang to his feet, a sudden premonition of disaster seizing his mind.

Giovanni pushed past the women at the entrance and came to a halt in front of Marco.

“Scusi, dottore,” he gasped. “Forgive me, forgive me.”

“What is it, man?” Marco snapped. “Are we under attack? Where is the Englishwoman?” A sick fear gripped him in his gut. “What has happened to her?”

Giovanni pushed back his hair, still trying to control his breathing. “If we hurry we may catch her. It was my fault.”

“Que dice? What are you talking about? Where is she?” For the first time he noticed Giovanni’s wet clothes and the torn ear. “Tell me what happened.”

Giovanni swallowed hard and looked Marco in the eye. “I will not lie to you, my friend. She tricked me. Just as she tricked you.”

Marco glanced around at the circle of listeners that had drifted close. He took his cousin’s arm in a tight grip and drew him to one side.

“What? For God’s sake, get it out.”

“She seemed to mean what she said. I couldn’t know-”

Marco shook his arm roughly. “Enough. Tell me.”

“Yes, dottore. I’m sorry.” Giovanni appeared to pull himself together with a visible effort. “I went to the pool to check everything was secure. After all, she did run once before. She was in the water and I had my gun. I thought the girls would be more use here, so I sent them back.”

Damn, he hadn’t seen them. Here was Giovanni taking matters into his own hands again, countermanding his orders. He controlled his anger. “And the guard?”

“I thought it best to send him with them. For protection.”

Idioto. “Go on.”

“She seduced me, dottore. I knew she was a loose woman because she let you-”

Marco clenched his jaw and resisted the temptation to bring his fist up under his cousin’s chin. Giovanni saw the tension in his face and hurried on. “-when she offered herself to me, I didn’t refuse as I should have done… Forgive me-”

Marco cut in. “So where is she? Did you take her?” A large, cold stone had settled on his heart, making it difficult to draw breath, squeezing his chest.

Giovanni nodded, his eyes downcast. “I knew she meant nothing to you, that you had just used her. So when she came out of the water and pressed herself on me… I… She was naked. Warm and wet…”

In pain, Marco closed his eyes for a moment, and his grip tightened even more on the other man’s arm. “Then what?”

“She made me think she wanted me, she lay down on her back and she let me inside her. When I leaned over her to suck her breast-” he paused and gave an eloquent shrug.

“Finish it, man.”

“She hit me on the head with a rock and pushed me in the pool. I could have drowned.” Giovanni fingered the cut on his head.

Marco chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out at this idiot. “You didn’t drown.”

“No, no. Thanks be to God.”

“Where is your weapon?”

“She has it. Dottore, I wanted to get it back…”

“She fought you. Resisted you.” Marco gestured towards the blood seeping from his earlobe.

“No, dottore. She was willing.” Giovanni gave a smirk. “She can be wild, as you know-”

“So where is she?”

“I climbed an outcrop and caught a glimpse of her making towards the village of San Sebastian. Where the police unit is. I know she will betray us. I came back here to warn you.”

Giovanni glanced up as if expecting praise. Marco released his arm in an angry gesture and felt the rage boil up. He’d trusted her and this was how she repaid him.

“I’ll take the punishment,” she’d said. “I’ll help you maintain the respect of your people.” He clenched his fists to keep them from beating the messenger.

Giovanni was a young man with a young man’s blood. How could he blame his cousin for being taken in if Emma had truly wanted to seduce him? He had been just as much a fool faced with those eyes and that body. And he was older and more experienced.

“She let me inside her.”

Giovanni’s words echoed in his head, making him want to howl aloud at the searing pain that went through him.

When he’d first called her Bella Donna she’d looked at him and repeated the words in her English voice. “In my country,” she’d said, “it’s the name of a poisonous plant.”

Poisonous indeed. Deadly.

Should he believe Giovanni? They were close as brothers and he would have no reason to lie. If in truth she was going to San Sebastian, or any other village, they had to assume she’d bring the authorities down on them. They had maybe two hours before the local police got in touch with the security detachment that would be more than interested in knowing where Marco Antonioni was.

There was work to do, work that would dull the pain. He barked out orders to the men waiting behind him.

“Capo,” Giovanni protested when he heard what Marco wanted. “We can catch her. There is no need to move all the people. Let them stay where they have food and shelter.”

“My young friend,” Marco said curtly. “If we leave we may avoid a greater disaster. I need my lieutenants with me tonight. Then we will regroup back in our own homes in the village. There we can celebrate our victory.” He slapped Giovanni on the shoulder. “Come, boy, all is not lost. We’ll take the shipment tonight and even if the Blackshirts arrive here, they will find nothing. Nothing at all.”

After the men dispersed to follow his orders, he remained tense and immobile. He let out his breath with a conscious effort, trying to relax his shoulders and unclench his fists, but his muscles tightened anew as he recalled Giovanni’s story. And imagined the details he hadn’t mentioned.

She’d been wet. As she had been in Enrico’s house. With water droplets beading her arms. Her breasts heavy