The Wind Dancer by Iris Johansen Page A

bruise where Giovanni had struck her. He
remembered Sanchia's head snapping back with the force of the blow and the fierceness
of the anger that had torn through him. He had wanted to kill the whoreson. How dare
that bastard touch his property? Couldn't he see how tiny and helpless Sanchia was, how
easily she could be bruised and hurt? If that blow had been a little harder, it could have
killed her or at least--
    No, by God, he wouldn't think how vulnerable she was, but only how much he desired
her. He deliberately summoned the image and feelings that had assaulted him when he'd
first drawn down the coverlet to reveal her naked body.
    A brilliant butterfly. All color and soft velvety textures.
    But butterflies were the most fragile of creatures.
    Butterflies could be broken and destroyed with only the careless brush of a man's hand.
    And he was not Giovanni.
    He could wait until she recovered from this exhaustion and felt more secure under his
rule.
    After all, the woman was vital to him as a thief. She would bring him what he needed and
any additional pleasure he took in her would be only secondary.
    He straightened and then reluctantly drew the coverlet up to Sanchia's chin. Yes, he could
wait.
    Perhaps.
    He turned away and blew out the flame of the candle.
    But he could not stay away from her if he remained in this bed... or even in this room. He
moved silently toward the door while considering his options. He couldn't return to
Giulia's chamber. She had been most irate when he had left her. Only one solution
occurred to him given the lateness of the hour.
    He grimaced as he realized he would have to go to Lorenzo's chamber and face his raised
brows and faintly malicious amusement.
    Oh yes, Lorenzo would take an unholy joy in Lion's predicament.
    "Wake up." Giulia's hand on Sanchia's shoulders was less than gentle as she shook her.
"Get up. They're waiting for you downstairs."
    Sanchia opened drowsy eyes to see Giulia Marzo's flushed face above her. Giulia was
angry again, she realized hazily, almost as angry as she had been last night when she had
left Sanchia with Lion. "I'm awake." She sat up in bed, and blinked as the early morning
sunlight streaming through the window assaulted her with its brilliance. "What time is
it?"
    "Nearly eight o'clock."
    Eight o'clock! Sanchia couldn't remember when she had slept past dawn. She scrambled
out of bed, reaching frantically for the clothes she'd laid on the chair the night before. "I
didn't mean to sleep this late. Is Lord Andreas displeased with me?"
    "You'll have to ask him." Giulia moved toward the door. "He's not a man who likes to be
kept waiting." She glanced back over her shoulder as she opened the door. "There's wine
and fruit on the table. Eat quickly and join Lord Andreas downstairs in ten minutes."
    "Five." Sanchia was dressing hurriedly. "I don't need to eat. Messer Lorenzo bought me
bread and fruit yesterday at the baker's. I can--"
    "Eat." Giulia's beautiful features were set with a less than attractive hardness. "Lion told
me to make sure you broke your fast before you started the journey. He won't be any
more displeased with you now than he will be five minutes from now." Giulia smiled
with a hint of malice. "Or perhaps you feel you need to curry favor after last night? I told
Lion he'd find no pleasure with you."
    Sanchia stared at Giulia in bewilderment. The woman was a wasp trying to sting her with
hurtful words, but how could they wound when they made no sense? After all, Lion had
spent the night in Giulia's bed. "That's what I told him too. He didn't appear to believe
me."
    Giulia's hand tightened on the knob of the door. "Insolence."
    "No, I didn't mean--"
    "You may please him for a few weeks, but he'll grow tired of bedding a child with no
more meat on her bones than a scrawny foul." Giulia's blue eyes blazed. "And then he'll
come back to Florence and to me. You'll never be able to hold him."
    "The question will never arise," Sanchia said quietly. "You