The Wind Dancer Read Free Page B

his breath. "Lorenzo, someday I'll--"
    "My lord, the hour grows late." Giulia Marzo was standing in the doorway smiling at
them. "If you please, I'll show Messer Vasaro to his chamber. Does he wish a
companion? I have a sweet little Sicilian girl who could show him much pleasure."
    "Lorenzo?" Lion glanced at Vasaro.
    Lorenzo shook his head. "Not tonight."
    "Nor any night of late." Lion gazed at him speculatively. "I fear you're beginning to have
the tastes of a monk. It was not always so."
    "I'm an old man of forty-four. Perhaps I've lost my virility," Lorenzo said lightly as he
turned and moved toward the door. "I find my books more stimulating than these fair
flowers at present. But pray don't let me stop you from frolicking in Venus's garden."
    "I won't." Lion's lingering gaze ran over Giulia's bare shoulders and then down to the
fullness of her breasts. "I promise you."
    When Giulia returned minutes later, Lion was still sitting in the same position, his feet
propped on the table, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on his wine goblet.
    "Vasaro is a strange man." Giulia closed the door and leaned back against it. "Are you
not afraid to call him your friend? Caprino says Vasaro is--"
    "No worse than any of us," Lion interrupted. "We live in violent times, and a man must
be violent to survive and hold what is his."
    "Or take what is another's?" Giulia asked, amused. "Is that why you need a thief?"
    His gaze narrowed on her face. "I have no liking for questions, Giulia." He smiled. "In
fact, I consider the forming of words a sinful waste from lips that are so accomplished at
other occupations. Take off your clothes, cara."
    Giulia felt the muscles of her stomach clench as she looked at him. She was breathless
and trembling--but not surprised for it had been this way with Lion, since his first visit
over two years before. Caprino was right in judging Lion as not handsome. Some might
even call him ugly as Caprino had done. His features looked as though they'd been carved
from stone by the bold stroke of an ax instead of the delicate chisel of an artist. His
cheekbones were too broad, his black brows straight slashes over eyes that were night
dark and seldom held any emotion save wariness and cynicism. His lips were well shaped
but they, too, held a hint of both sensuality and cruelty. His dark hair was still as closely
barbered as the days when he had worn a soldier's helmet, and his body, though lithe,
held none of the slim grace of the courtier. Even as he reclined in an indolent position
now, his loose white shirt gave hint of the power of his massive shoulders, and the gray
hose revealed the might of trunklike thighs and muscular calves.
    Power, Giulia realized with a start of surprise. Not only did Lion Andreas possess
physical strength and power, but also an inner strength and power far beyond those of
other men... certainly beyond those of any man she had ever met. His curiosity about life,
about what was going on around him was more intense, his potential for good or evil
more extreme, his appetites stronger, than in anyone of her experience.
    "I'm growing impatient, cara. Must I beg?"
    "You never beg." She started across the room toward him, unfastening the rope of pearls
binding her fair hair. "You take." She dropped the pearls onto a table beside him. "And
take." Her palm caressed his thigh and she felt the muscles harden beneath her touch.
"Until I cannot even lift one little finger."
    "How cruel." He lifted her hand from his thigh and pressed the palm to his lips. "I
wonder that you still receive me when I so misuse you." His tongue stroked the sensitive
flesh of her palm. "You always smell of roses. When I'm away from you I always
remember the scent... "
    "When you're between the thighs of one of your other whores? You come to Florence
only two or three times a year. Who pleasures you when you leave me?"
    He glanced up, his dark eyes twinkling. "Perhaps, like Lorenzo, I find solace in Plutarch
and Aristotle."
    She smiled