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How dare Amoro violate her father’s private bedchamber! Candlelight glittered and shed a gentle light. The aromatic scent of apple-wood burned in the hearth. Instead of the usual tranquility she experienced when in this room, Morena seethed with outrage.
A large platter of food sat upon a table set for two. The succulent aroma of roasted meat also wafted through the air. Morena’s stomach rumbled, which irritated her. No doubt, Amoro could hear it also.
Amoro led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. After he helped her sit, he crossed to the other side and settled into his own seat.
He reached for the small carafe of wine and filled her gem-encrusted goblet. He lifted his dish and held it out to her. With raised eyebrows, he waited for her to serve him.
Morena bit back a retort and took the dish. With a forced smile, she reached for the serving spoon. She dropped one roasted carrot and a sliver of meat the size of her smallest finger onto it. She passed it back to him, her meaning clear. You can starve for all I care. Her body grew taut as she awaited his reaction.
Amoro’s face darkened, but he said nothing.
She proceeded to pile food onto her own dish and didn’t wait for him to take the first taste in accordance with protocol. Ravenous, she began to eat.
Amoro seemed more interested in watching her than in the sparse servings she allotted him. She did her best to ignore the heat of his gaze and ate until she cleared her plate of every morsel.
Only when she reached for her goblet, did Amoro sever the silence between them. “By the speed with which you devoured your food, I trust you enjoyed your meal?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She had downed her food like a savage. It went against her noble upbringing, but these were extenuating circumstances. Still, she did not wish him to consider her an uncouth barbarian. “I was hungry.”
“There is plenty here. Would you like more?”
Her heart unhardened a little. “No, thank you. I’m sated.”
“Then I trust you won’t mind if I continue to eat. I found my first serving a little meagre.” An indolent smile that could melt snow crossed his rugged face. Morena’s heart beat a little faster.
She gestured to the platter. “Please, go ahead.”
Morena watched him heap much larger portions onto his dish. Well mannered, he chewed his food with his mouth closed. When he finished, he reached over and refilled his goblet. A gentle look glowed in his eyes and he raised it to her.
“Now that we have completed our meal, I want to speak about our future.” He sipped from his goblet, put it down, and looked her in the eyes. “Soon we leave for Genoa.”
“Genoa?” Morena’s throat dried. Her father never spoke a kind word about the problems with the Dragone family. How could she go to live with the enemy? Would they accept her into their midst?
Amoro expected too much of her. “No, I’ll not go.” He took a deep breath and looked at her with amused interest. “We will marry there.”
Amoro didn’t frighten her as much as he did at first. His vigorous interest in her and his resolute determination kept her feeling unsettled. The prospect of travel to that inhospitable city filled her with dread. She fought hard not to show it as she toyed with the stem of her goblet. “Our families have been enemies for years. The people of Genoa will never accept me. You must discover another way to bring peace between our families.”
“Don’t you see? We must marry because we are enemies.”
“I cannot marry a man who besieges my home, hangs a leash around my neck, and expects me to obey.”
“And I don’t relish the thought of wedding a woman who attacks her future husband in the dark and tries to pummel him into unconsciousness, unless, of course, I can tame her first.”
His words struck hard. If she expected him to think of her needs first, she must do the same. “You are not my future husband and you would have done no less were you in the same circumstances.”
“True.” Amoro stared at the burgundy liquid inside his goblet as he swirled it around. He took a long sip and replaced it on the table.
“It is proper to ask my father for my hand in marriage. Even if you do, I doubt you can convince him to break the betrothal contract with Boccanera. My father is a man who takes pride in keeping his word.”
“Either way, it is still in the best interests of both our families to marry. To reassure you, I give you my word that I will do all within my means to find your father, ensure his safe return, and acquire not only his consent, but also his blessing. I am a man of honour.”
Morena sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “And if he refuses?”
“He won’t.”
“You seem so certain.”
“We will marry, sooner or later, regardless of who or what stands in our way.”
Somehow, she believed him.
Amoro rose from his chair and came around the table. He took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.
His nearness rattled her. Her cheeks flared when she remembered how she weakened at his touch. In the presence of this man of contradictions, she never knew what to expect.
Fascination glinted in his eyes. He studied her with intensity. An arrogant smile crossed his lips and he pulled her close.
Beguiled, she remained passive and fixed her eyes upon his.
He ran his hands over her hair. “Your hair is beautiful, long and dark, the shade of a starling’s wing.” His gentle voice soothed. “Just the way I like it.”
She relaxed in the power of his embrace.
With his fingers, he combed her tresses. He adjusted the loose waves that tumbled past her buttocks and brushed a few stray strands back over her shoulder.
Morena held her breath. His emerald eyes sparkled with heated determination. Rugged features and ebony hair gave him the air of a rogue. His studious look meandered down her face and neck to settle on her breasts then back to her eyes.
“Morena,” Amoro’s breath tickled her cheek. “I want to be your husband. Fight not our destiny.”
“There is no destiny for us.” Morena’s doubts spilled forth. “You don’t even know me. I might be a leper, a shrew, a liar, or a thief. What you speak of is the desire of a stubborn man used to attaining his wishes regardless of anyone else.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.” He kissed her hand and looked at her with hope. “At least give us the chance to become acquainted.”
The warmth of his lips inflamed her body. It breached some of her obstinate resolve. She could pull away from him. If she wrested her hand away, it would be over, but he infiltrated her senses. His strength and mystery constrained her. She tingled with anxiety and wondered what came next.
Amoro rose to his feet. “Do not resist. I don’t wish to look over my shoulder to await the dagger you intend to slide into my back. I cannot abide such mistrust and I’ll never tolerate betrayal.”
Morena remained silent.
His expression softened. “I know these circumstances are difficult, but I swear, if we marry, you will not regret it.” He pulled her hard to his chest. “Blood of my sword! You are beautiful.”
The solidity of his thick muscular body and his taut manhood pressed against the soft pout of her belly. She experienced a strange confusion, a befuddled insurgence of upset with herself and with him.
Amoro caressed her face. He ran his hands down her neck to her shoulders. “I want you. Say you will marry me.”
Morena whispered, “No. You will not force me into marriage. Leave my castle on the morrow lest I never forgive what you have done.”
“A fear-provoking outcome, but something I’ll chance,” he murmured.
“Being alone like this compromises me. My reputation will suffer.”
She should hate him for holding her captive, yet he evoked a powerful passion within her. She must regain her will and not succumb to his charm.
“It matters not. You will become my wife.”
Time passed in hushed stillness, their heads close, their eyes locked.
Long after her breath caught and her bewildered spirit accepted the inevitable, he lingered. She did not stop him when he lowered his mouth and pressed it upon hers.
The contact sent a rush of blood to course through her veins. He smoothed his hands down her back and moulded her against the hard length of his body. He kissed her insistently, endlessly. The caress of his hands, the feel of his mouth, the hard strength of his legs pressed against hers, were more than pleasant. It weakened her resistance. Undiscovered desires stirred to life.
Her traitorous body surrendered to the fire of his hands and mouth.
Doubt and alarm paralysed her mind. Uneasiness darted through her, pleasant and rousing. Her senses alert. Her reactions could bring trouble and shame, her conscience warned.
“Don’t fight me, piccola.”
“Stop.” Her voice quavered.
He stood for a moment and studied her with a befuddled gaze.
“I’m a maid.” Her cheeks burned. Embarrassment overcame the passion in her body.
Silence pursued and then he broke out in a chuckle. “A kiss does not always lead to bedding. I don’t doubt your word about your maidenhood. It encourages me more. The future duchess of Genoa should go to her wedding bed in an innocent state. Even if you were not a maid, I would still wed you.” He ran his fingers down her cheek.
She pulled away from him. “I’m the Contessa of Portovenere. Did you expect anything less?”
Amoro grinned at her spirited response.
“You surpass all my expectations and I’m sure, my father’s.”
“What does your father have to do with this?”
By the glow of the candles, his hard, sculpted features appeared vulnerable and his voice softened to a whisper. “The night before he died, my father made it known he wanted me to marry you. I swore on his grave to honour his wish.”
She looked at him with sympathy. “I’m sorry. I forgot,” she said.
His expression gentled.
She too would stop at nothing to honour a father’s wish. It demonstrated his honour.
“Like you, my father too, made a promise he must honour. He betrothed me to Ernesto Boccanera of Savona and I must honour the agreement.”
His gaze narrowed. “And if it could be broken?”
“You must receive my father’s permission, but I doubt he will give it.”
“Then we are at an impasse.” He made a move closer, but Morena laid her hand on his sleeve. He looked down at her fingers then into her eyes.
“Duke Amoro,” she began in an effort to sustain the truce and strengthen it if possible. “We both face a difficult situation, but I’m sure it can be resolved. I would like it very much if we could be on, well, friendlier terms,” she said with a shrug.
“What sort of ‘friendlier terms’ did you have in mind, my lady?” Like a roguish scoundrel, he raised his eyebrows.
Morena caught the sarcasm in his voice and ignored the smirk. She continued to press her advantage. “Perhaps you could behave like a companion or a loyal guardsman who offers me protection?”
A flash of amusement shone in his eyes. “I could agree to such a pact.”
Relief swept through her. She recaptured some control. Her reactions to his touch and the sensations he evoked within her tormented her. When he neared, why did she explode in a thousand different emotions? She should despise him.
Amoro placed his hand on his heart, ready to swear his oath.
The image of him so humbled pleased her. Thoughts of all the secret pleasures and frustrations of a future joined to this man raced through her mind.
“I swear to protect you with my very life, Contessa.” Amoro took her hand and kissed it. He rose to his feet, and before she could say anything more, he caressed her waist and back, his tender touch warm. Her body relaxed of its own accord. It moulded to his power, invited his touch.
Although her body responded, she steeled herself to disguise any response.
“Friend?” he asked.
She watched as he took hold of her hands and kissed them.
“Friend.” She nodded and smiled. “Perhaps it is time to end the evening.”
“Is it not customary for friends to kiss when they bid each other a good night?” He took her hand in both of his. His grin dripped with mischief.
“Well, yes, I suppose it is.” Morena scrutinized him.
“Then permit me to do so.” Amoro leaned forward and grazed her lips.
The chaste kiss lasted a moment, but Morena kept her eyes closed to savour the luscious sensations in her body. She surrendered to the mystery of his enchantment. To hide the extent of her vulnerability, she turned away.
He seized her chin in his fingers and turned her back to face him.
“You felt the heat of the kiss, didn’t you? You cannot deny it was pleasant.”
She gritted her teeth and fixed her gaze on him. Her cheeks burned.
“We may be friends, Morena, but the matter of our marriage remains.
I’ll have you as my wife. One day, you will accept.”
His arrogance ignited her fury. “Stop presuming. You besieged my father’s castle and keep me hostage. Do you think he will give his permission after that?”
“He will.” Amoro pulled her to him.
“Never.” With both hands on his chest, she pushed away, but he tightened his hold.
“I didn’t hear you.” He kissed her cheek.
“Stop insisting we wed,” she demanded.
He ignored her and continued on his path to behind her ears.
She weakened at the waves of pleasure that vibrated her body. Warm breath caressed her neck. Pure bliss brought her to heel. She refused to blame herself for the way her body felt. Rather, she blamed him.
Amoro continued to kiss her neck, aggravating her sweet agony. “I’ll heat you like this every night of your life.”
“No, that will never happen,” she exclaimed in a last attempt to gain control. The rampage of emotions unsettled her.
“You deceive yourself.” He drew back. Morena let her forehead fall against his chest. She flattened her hands against his tunic and pushed away again.
He let her pull away. “Shall I implore your forgiveness, carissima?” he teased as he tipped her chin up. “Or should I wait?”
Morena lifted her eyes to his.
“I think I must wait.” He emitted a rueful chuckle. He pressed a brief kiss on her forehead then enfolded her in his muscled arms and drew her against his chest.
Morena could not drag a sound through her constricted throat. She became a mass of boneless bewilderment.
“Surely I cannot have rendered you speechless,” he whispered. His breath touched her hair.
She spoke, but her voice came out as a strangled whisper. “Let me go.”
He complied and took her by the hand. She tried to yank it away, but he held it in his powerful grasp as he escorted her to her bedchamber.
“Tomorrow we must clarify things between us.”
“Tomorrow,” Morena said without tone as she turned away and closed the door behind her. Breathless, she leaned against it and listened. At first, she heard nothing. She heard the rustle of his mantle and the click of his heels as he walked away.
Sleep refused to come to Morena. She tossed about in bed until dawn, desperate to comprehend the tumultuous passions Amoro evoked in her.
How he swept her into his arms. How he befuddled her sense of decency. How he made her burn with both hate and desire.
She plumped her pillow. She must avoid being alone with him. It weakened her ability to resist him. What arrogance, she reflected as she turned onto her side and stared at the window across the room. He stood out amongst other men like a large salmon in a pond of newts.
That conceited scoundrel could seduce an angel of heaven. The more she resisted him, the more determined he became. She existed as his quarry. He intended to make her his wife and Morena feared nothing could deter him from that path. The realization that she wanted him as badly scared her most of all.