Venice in the Moonlight (20 page)

“Probably. What else do I have to do?” His reply was full of self-pity, something he tried not to show in public, but right now, he didn’t care. Marietta was right. Something was going on but, as usual, he was in the dark.

The uncharacteristic remark left his friends speechless.

Nico frowned and then nodded. “Good day.”

After Nico and Raul walked away from the table, Raul asked, “Where would you like to go now?”

He lifted his face to the sky. The October weather was treating them well. He should stay outdoors today and enjoy it while it lasted. “I want to go back to my apartment.”

“Nico,” Raul said gently. “It isn’t good for you to mope.”

If he told the old man that he was Nico’s only true friend, maybe then he’d understand his foul mood. But then again, up to five minutes ago, he thought Casanova and the Consul were his friends. He didn’t know if Raul was loyal. He didn’t know who he could trust.

“My apartment. Now.” He continued on, not waiting for a reply.

hen Marietta arrived at Nico’s apartment, she found him in one of the wingback chairs with his head in his hands. Raul stood by, a rare look of distress on his face. The curtains had been ripped down from the bed and the French doors, a chair sat broken in the corner, and shattered wine glasses sprinkled the floor. The only things untouched were her easel and paints.

“What happened? Nico, are you all right?” She rushed to his side and pulled his hands from his face to search for injuries.

“Just a bit of a temper tantrum,” Raul said in a strained voice. “I think the worst is over now.”

Nico pulled away from her and moved to the open French doors that led to the balcony. “You can leave. Both of you.”

She glanced at Raul who shook his head imperceptibly. She nodded her agreement and then lifted her chin toward the apartment’s door.

“I will be in my room if you need me. It’s down the hall within shouting distance,” Raul said. The last part was for Marietta’s benefit.

Nico leaned against the balcony door with his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. He looked like a wounded animal. Whatever had happened since she left him a few hours ago must have been bad to make him lose control. Part of her feared his anger. She could never forget Dario’s rages, but the pain radiating from Nico gave her courage.

She took his face again and smoothed back his wild, black hair. He opened his eyes at her touch and blinked back tears. If he had been wearing his dark glasses, she would never have seen the depth of his anguish. “What happened to upset you so?”

“They lied. They were all I had and they lied.”

“Who?”

“My friends.” He spit the words out like they were poison. “You were right, Kitty. I don’t know if they are involved with your father’s death, but the Consul and Cas are definitely conspiring with my father.”

“You confronted them?”

“I asked a few pointed questions.” He shook his head, still in shock. “They lied to my face. After all the years of friendship, they go behind my back and with my father, of all people. I thought they respected me. They were the only ones besides my sister and Raul who treated me like a person.”

“Oh, Nico.” It was all she could think to say.

As a tear slid slowly down his cheek, she stood on her toes to kiss it away. She meant only to give him comfort, but when she felt his warm, sweet breath on her skin, she deliberately found his mouth with hers. She had stared at those lips for days, wondering how they would feel, and now she knew. They were perfect.

His body jerked backward and for a moment she felt the sting of rejection, but the movement was only due to his surprise. He recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around her. As flesh met flesh, the sparks of desire she kept stomping out ignited, and tingling warmth spread through her. With each chaste kiss to her lips, she felt his need for more and her body agreed. When at last he broke their embrace, her head spun as if from too much wine.

He reached for her again and cradled her face in his hands. His fingers tenderly traced the curves. “I curse God for my useless eyes. Never have I wanted to see someone so badly.”

She believed his tender words were for her alone. When he kissed her, the world disappeared. Nothing mattered but his touch, and she needed it as a drunkard needed his drink. Maybe it would be better if she left now before anything more happened, but for once, she felt something besides sadness and fear. Despite his past, she welcomed his passion if only to forget for a few moments all that had transpired in her twenty years. Maybe it was selfish, but she needed to linger in this moment, to feel alive and loved. Besides, denying her desire for him was exhausting.

He rested his forehead on hers and exhaled a long breath. Then he kissed her cheeks softly. “Marietta, is this real? I could not bear a deception from you too.”

She barely heard the question above the pounding of her heart. Without hesitation, she tasted his mouth again.

His hands moved along her gown to feel the cut and style of it. “French. I’m impressed.”

His skilled fingers made short work of the undressing, and soon she stood only in her shift. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. As he shrugged out of his clothes, she watched his naked body appear one impressive part at a time. Long-limbed and lean, he heated her blood like no man ever had.

After he climbed in beside her, they lay in silence until she broke it. “Your eyes are so beautiful. Why does it bother you to show them?”

He ran a hand through his hair before he answered. “I’ve found people are more at ease if I have them covered.”

“That’s nonsense.”

He shrugged. “Not everyone is as accepting as you.”

She put a hand against his cheek and turned his head toward hers. “What is your world like?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “When I was younger, I used to pretend I was in heaven walking among the clouds. Later, I realized I was really in hell. I can’t read or see details like your face, but I could tell without touching you that you have a very pleasing body.”

He opened his eyes and gave her a smile that sent shivers of panic through her body.

“Maybe it is better you can’t see all of me. I’m quite plain.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been told otherwise, but it wouldn’t matter. I’m drawn to more than your physical beauty.”

At this, she had to laugh. “Signore, do you not know your reputation?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to meet others’ expectations than to live up to your own,” he replied in a quiet voice.

“I have very high expectations of you,” she said teasingly to break his suddenly somber mood.

He reached for her hand and kissed the tips of each of her fingers. “I will not fail you, my amore.”

He shifted to his side so that she snuggled in the crook of his arm. The few times she had imagined him making love to her, the scene was much different. She had pictured him ripping off her clothes and taking her in a heated frenzy, but now that the time had come, he seemed in no hurry as he pulled the ties on her shift.

“When we first met, I thought you shallow and selfish—like Dario—but you aren’t. I’m sorry I misjudged you.”

He kissed the indent at the base of her neck. His breath scorched her skin. She fought through the waves of longing to say one more thing. “Dario came to my bed often enough, but it was never pleasant. I fear I will disappoint you.”

He covered her mouth with his and deepened the kiss with his tongue. Then, he cupped the underside of her left breast. He brushed his lips over her nipple and kissed the thumping pulse in her chest.

“Just follow your heart.” He ran his tongue along the valley between her breasts.

Nico’s useless eyes didn’t slow him down. Any change in her body or sound she made was well tended. Before long, he knew what caresses made her ache for more. He didn’t let up until she clung to him and cried out in ecstasy.

Her body quivered and her breath came in short bursts, but he wasn’t done with her. His lips covered her with light kisses and he murmured sweet endearments. She grabbed a fistful of his curls on either side of his head to stop his endless assault. “Nico, I know what to do now.”

Marietta followed her heart, though other parts of her helped along the way. His body was hard and chiseled, unlike Dario’s soft, flabby one. Her hands moved over it. She felt every dip and curve and marveled at its perfection. If only she worked in stone instead of paint, for he was a sculptor’s dream. She kissed and tasted, and when he groaned with pleasure, she went back for more. She pushed him onto his back, straddled his slim hips, and watched his expression change as she guided him in.

“Oh, Kitty.”

The raw emotion in his voice stunned her, but she didn’t wait to hear more. She rocked her hips, alternating between urgent thrusts and slow glides, until she brought him to his peak. Spent, he pulled her to his chest and they lay with limbs entwined. Slowly, their heartbeats returned to a steady rhythm. She had worried about regrets, but all she felt was peace.

She must have dozed, for she awoke covered with a blanket and spooned in his arms. He smiled as she turned to face him. “Have I been sleeping long?”

He shook his head before he kissed her softly on the lips.

“Did you sleep?”

Again, he shook his head. “I wanted to savor every minute with you.”

“I’m sorry, now I feel bad.”

“Don’t worry, my amore, you needed to sleep to have the strength for what’s next.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.” He ducked his head under the blanket.

Marietta’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh, Nico.” It was the last intelligible thing she said.

he next afternoon, Marietta climbed the stairs to Nico’s apartment. She ran her tongue across her swollen lips. There were other places on her body affected by last night’s lovemaking, but for once, she didn’t mind the aftermath. Nico had been passionate yet tender—everything she dreamed of in a lover.

With mussed hair and a tired expression, Nico looked less than his usual impeccable self when he answered the door. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in her scent. He glanced over his shoulder before he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.

“I’m sorry, Kitty, I didn’t know it was so late.”

He pulled her into his arms, but he wasn’t the only one who had a keen nose. The smell of jasmine hung heavy on his clothes.

Her stomach fluttered a warning. “Are you alone?”

“Raul is out on an errand.”

Though he answered her question, the female voice from inside his apartment answered it better. “Nikki, come back here. I’m not done with you yet.”

Marietta’s heart broke in two. The pain flooded her chest. She gasped for air, but her lungs failed her also.

Nico’s head spun toward the door and then back to Marietta. “Kitty, no, it’s not what you think.”

If he said anything else, she didn’t hear it for her ears filled with the buzzing of bees. She snapped out of her shock and slapped him across the face. Then she did it again to ensure he got her message. Hot tears blurred her vision. She turned on her heel and sprinted toward the stairs. On the second to the last step, her slipper caught the hem of her gown. She pitched forward onto the cold stone tile. She lay there until another voice sent a chill down her spine.

“Signora Gatti?”

She knew that voice. It was the voice of a murderer.

Nico pounded down the steps behind her. “Are you hurt?”

He bent to help her to her feet, but she scuttled away.

“I’m fine,” she said, though it was obviously a lie.

She stood and wiped at the tears on her face and then brushed at her clothes. She didn’t need to tell him that his father was in the room. From the scowl on his face, he already knew and was as unhappy about it as she was.

Nico took a combative step toward his father. “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

Marietta knew. There was only one explanation. “He followed me.”

“I found Signora Gatti’s pin.” Savio opened his fist. He gave her a smile that barely reached the corners of his mouth.

Nico held out his hand. “Where did you find it?”

“Consul Smith’s house.” Savio dropped the pin into his son’s palm but kept his eyes locked on Marietta.

Nico’s thumb traced the outline of the pin before he gave it to Marietta. “Is it yours?”

“Yes.” It had been on her father’s cloak that she left behind in the gondola during her escape. She gauged the distance to the front door with a sideways glance. She’d never make it to the street.

“I need a word in private with your friend. Leave us, Nico.”

Nico raised an eyebrow at his father’s tone. He shifted his body so that he stood in front of her. “What could you possibly have to say to Marietta?”

She moved out of Nico’s shadow. “Maybe he wants to apologize for killing my father.”

Savio’s face turned an ash gray color. “You’re as crazy as he was.”

She took a step closer. “Tell your son the truth. Tell him how my father saw you worshiping the devil. Tell him how you killed his friend and threw him in the canal. Tell him how you need to kill me so that no one else finds out.”

“You are insane!” Color flooded Savio’s face until his skin turned an unhealthy mottled red. “I did none of those things. Do you know whom you are accusing? I can have you thrown in The Leads.”

Anger overtook her fear. “Your kind never gets their hands dirty, but you gave the orders. You are as much to blame, and I have the proof.”

“You mean your father’s journal?” Savio let out a harsh laugh. “As I told Signor Grimani after you left his office, no one will believe the ravings of a drunkard.”

“They will when I find the book you used in the ceremonies.”

“A book?” Nico’s voice held a slight tremor.

“At the ceremony I saw at the Consul’s house, Casanova read from a large book. I’m sure the priests would be interested in seeing it.”

“You have a large book locked in your desk,” Nico said slowly. His expression changed to revulsion.

“Nico, surely you don’t believe this nonsense?” Savio took out a handkerchief and dried the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I am a God-fearing man from one of the most prominent ruling families in Venice. I find these accusations insulting.”

“Nevertheless, they are true.” Marietta pressed the pin to her heart. “I swear on my father’s grave.”

Savio’s eyes took on the unnatural gleam of a mad man. A long, silver dagger appeared from under his coat. He waved it in the air and said in a high-pitched voice, “Venice must live!”

Marietta grabbed Nico’s arm. “He has a knife!”

Nico lunged at his father and knocked him down. The men rolled on top of each other, neither able to gain the advantage. Marietta frantically looked around the bare foyer for something to use as a weapon. Then she stuck her hands in her pockets and found the broken letter opener from Savio’s study.

Nico had his father pinned to the floor, but the dagger was still in Savio’s hand. With a burst of strength, Savio raked the blade across Nico’s cheek. More surprised than hurt, Nico fell backward and gave Savio the opening to escape his grasp.

Their faces bloodied, both men jumped to their feet. Nico stood coiled and ready to defend. With his ear tilted toward his father, he waited to hear the slightest movement.

Savio sucked in several raspy breathes. Sweat ran down his face and mixed with the blood from a cut lip. He wiped his mouth with his free hand and waved the dagger again. “You don’t understand. We must keep it a secret. If we don’t, everything I’ve sacrificed will be for nothing.”

With Savio’s back to her, Marietta saw the opportunity she needed. She grasped the broken blade of the letter opener and pressed the tip into Savio’s neck. “Drop the knife.”

After a long moment of hesitation, the clatter of metal on stone echoed in the foyer. Believing it was over, Marietta let out a breath of relief.

The front door to the building opened and Casanova strolled in, followed by Raul.

“Well, here I am. What is so urgent that you had to send for me?” Casanova stopped short and took in the group before him. “This doesn’t bode well.”

Savio pointed at Casanova. “Don’t say a word, you idiot!”

“Nikki? What is going on down there?” the female voice said from the top of the stairs.

“Bella’s here?” Casanova brushed past the group and started toward the steps.

“You leave my daughter alone!” Savio jumped on Casanova’s back like a tiger bringing down his prey.

Casanova struggled to pull the older man’s hands from his neck. His mouth gulped desperately for air before Raul and Nico could haul Savio off him.

Savio wrenched his arms from their grasp. “You . . . will not . . . touch . . . Bella.”

Nico nodded. “Though it pains me to say it, for once I agree with my father. Bella told me you are courting her. I was going to try to talk some sense into you, but it would be a waste of words. You need to leave.”

A younger version of Nico’s mother now stood at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide with confusion as she took in the bruises, blood, and angry faces.

Casanova held out his hands in a pleading gesture. “Let me explain, my friend.”

“There is nothing you could say that would justify this madness.” Nico’s voice trembled from the rage he fought to contain. “Go.”

“You are all weak.” Savio spit in disgust. “You only care about your wine and women. But you can’t make the hard choices. I did, and I don’t regret them for a moment.”

The old man bent over and pulled at the neckline of his shirt. Then he suddenly stood rigid, grabbed his left arm, and collapsed onto the floor. He convulsed twice before his body stilled. Bubbles of spit slid down his chin and onto his neck.

Shocked, no one moved until Bella’s scream sent them into action. Casanova hurried to her side, while Raul placed a cheek by Savio’s mouth.

“Is he breathing?” Nico asked. Marietta couldn’t tell what answer would please him more.

“Barely. Signora Gatti, you will find the landlord’s apartment down the hall, last door on the left. Have him send his fastest servants for a doctor and Signora Foscari.”

Nico slipped his arms under his father’s shoulders. “Let’s move him to my apartment.”

orgive me . . . forgive me.” Savio mouthed the words repeatedly.

Since depositing his father on the bed, Nico hadn’t gone near him. He paced the length of the room, while Bella sat by the bedside and clutched her father’s hand. Despite her fury at being banished to the nunnery, she was still his little girl. Nico wondered what she would think when he told her everything their father had done.

“Nikki, do something,” Bella pleaded.

Disgust curled his upper lip. “Let him call on his devil for help.”

“No, no devil, only God.” The old man coughed until phlegm dribbled down his chin. “We meant no disrespect, but the Church failed us. You must believe me.”

He stopped at the foot of the bed, grateful for once that he couldn’t see the man his father had become. “And why would I do that?”

Casanova laid a hand on his shoulder. “Because it’s the truth.”

He pushed away his friend’s hand. “What do you know about the truth?”

“I’ve been a student of Kabbalah for some time now. It teaches you a different way to reach the divine,” Casanova said. “Your father and his friends found out about my studies and enlisted my help. All they wanted was to save their families’ fortunes, to bring Venice back to the world power she once was.”

Nico moved to where Marietta sat by the fire. He took her hand and squeezed it to reassure himself more than her. His father could have accosted her anywhere in Venice. If Nico hadn’t been there to intervene . . . the thought of losing her filled him with rage. “Our family name has always made my father arrogant. He never had a problem bending the law, but I didn’t think he’d break it. What about Marietta’s father and his friend? Does your Kabbalah god approve of murder?”

Casanova lowered his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. “No, of course not, but I didn’t know Savio was involved. If I had, I would have cut all ties with him.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you now?” His voice was heavy with disdain. “You’ve lied before to me.”

“I had no choice. Your father and his friends were paying me well for my silence.”

“So everything comes down to money.”

“Says the man who doesn’t have to work for his.” Casanova’s tone turned bitter. “You’re of noble birth and have no idea what regular people must do to survive. I can’t even promise marriage to the woman of my dreams because I’m deemed not good enough.”

Across the room, Bella let out a barely audible gasp.

Nico gripped the back of the chair to keep from striking his friend. “My family does not approve of your choice. I think we have made that clear.”

“Nico, please, I love your sister.”