Bella Donna

by Margrett Dawson

  “I can promise you plenty of action, Catherine,” he said and kissed her, his tongue probing to enter her mouth.

  She had to find another reason to speak, to pull away from his voracity. “Where will this ambush happen?” she whispered

  “Do you remember the wide track halfway down the mountain towards the shore?”

  “Yes.”

  “The same track curves around to the other side of the mountain. In fact, it is close to us, just over the ridge and down a short way.”

  She thought furiously. “Will you take me with you? I should like to see Marco get his reward.”

  “Perhaps. If you are good.”

  “Maybe I should consider a change of situation,” she murmured. “If an employer proves unkind, we ladies’ maids have no compunction in finding a new position.”

  “I knew you were a sensible girl.”

  His hand fell on her shoulder, drawing her closer, then his mouth pressed hard on hers. She made herself relax, giving a tiny moan as his fingers moved to trace the curve of her breast. He was kneeling now, leaning over her, both arms securely around her. His jacket chafed her naked breasts.

  She opened her mouth to his insistent tongue and felt his weight shift even more. She snaked her arms around his neck and stroked the hair on his nape. Compared with Marco’s lithe body, he felt heavy and clumsy in her arms. She forced herself not to think of what she was doing. It had nothing to do with Marco’s deception, and everything to do with her own survival and that of all the people in the cave.

  Giovanni cupped her breast and squeezed the nipple hard between his fingers, making her yelp at the sudden pain. She felt his lips curve against hers in a smile. “I know you are a noisy lover,” he said against her mouth.

  He had watched or listened to her making love with Marco. Anger rose inside her, forcing her to make her move with no more delay. She tugged him down farther toward her, sending him off balance, headfirst into the pool. As he fell, she stood, the water splashing up into her face as he hit the surface. Moving on instinct she seized a large stone and brought it crashing down on the back of his head. He lay still, almost submerged. She was sure she hadn’t hit him hard enough to kill him, but he would die if his face remained under water. Rotten as he was, she wanted no man’s life on her conscience. Mercifully, he had landed with his head only inches from the edge. Even so, it took a huge effort to lift his shoulders just enough to prop his head on a protruding ledge so he could breathe.

  Panting from the exertion, she paused to look around. The water swirled around her waist, reminding her of her need for clothes.

  Giovanni’s rifle lay a few feet away. She stepped out of the pool and picked it up, glancing back at the unconscious man. She checked the bolt. Let him try seducing the ladies’ maid now!

  Water streamed from her breasts and thighs, cooling her skin. She shivered. Surely Teresa and Irena hadn’t taken all the clean clothing with them?

  To her relief she caught sight of a pile of clothes on a large rock. Everything was there, including her own dirty garments. She put the rifle down within easy reach. With trembling fingers she rapidly dried herself as best she could on the sheet Teresa had held as a screen. Forcing down the wave of revulsion that rose in her throat at the thought of Giovanni’s hands on her she scrubbed at her breasts and her lips as if she could remove all trace of his caresses.

  Then her eyes still on him, praying he wouldn’t move, she shook out a clean skirt and tunic and fumbled her way into them, all the time half expecting to see an enraged Giovanni emerge from the water. Feeling warmer, she picked up the rifle.

  Giovanni hadn’t moved.

  She’d done some hunting in Scotland and knew better than to take anything for granted, so she held her breath, remaining motionless to encourage him to stir if he thought she had gone. This time he would be seeking revenge for her playacting, and she was ready to shoot if he came after her.

  A bird flew overhead with a mocking cackle.

  She thought of the way he’d boasted about his police connections.

  Marco’s enemies.

  She judged she had waited about five minutes, thinking hard. Giovanni still lay motionless. It wasn’t really long enough to be sure, but she had little choice. She had the rifle. She was no more than twenty minutes away from the caves. If she could get back there quickly she could warn Marco there was a traitor in his midst. She paused. Why should she do that after what he had done to her? Because he had said his people were in danger. She might not care if he rescued his title deeds and the money, but she did care about him finishing up in a filthy prison somewhere. And his followers deserved a chance to get away. Despite their hostility toward her, she would never forgive herself if those women and children died, or were carried away to rot in jail.

  Enough hesitation. It was as if the events of the past two days had piled up until they’d eaten away her capacity to make decisions. Her mind made up, she tucked the stock of the gun under one arm, took a last look around and moved toward the path that would lead her back to Marco.

  Chapter Seven

  Giovanni lay prone in the warm water, his eyes closed, barely breathing, cursing the woman for a lying, cock-teasing whore. The rock was hard under his cheek, and a dull ache throbbed from the spot on the back of his head where she’d hit him. She had led him on, humiliated him, and now she had the rifle. His rifle.

  His straining ears caught the faint sounds of her movements as she dried herself and dressed. The temptation was great, but he daren’t look at her. He imagined her smooth legs as she stepped into the skirt, hiding her cunt, the cheeks of her perfect ass. When she raised her arms to put on the tunic, her breasts would lift and tremble. He stifled a groan as his cock hardened and swelled.

  He tensed all his muscles to refrain from leaping up, bending her over one of the rocks, and thrusting inside her. Time yet to make her scream for mercy. All that talk of going with him had been a sham. Diablo! Marco had enjoyed her and he meant to have her too, if he had to beat her black and blue.

  The sounds had stopped. Had she finished dressing, waiting for him to move, the rifle pointed at him? He could wait.

  He had to hand it to her. She was hard to intimidate, and it looked as if she knew how to handle a gun. He damned his own carelessness for leaving the weapon on the ground, blinded by her wiles. The gun in her hands was the only thing stopping him from jumping on her now. He had to find a way to get it away from her, so he could make her his prisoner again. Tie her up, keep her somewhere she couldn’t escape until she understood there was no alternative but to stay with him. He licked his lips in anticipation.

  He would have liked to see Marco beat her with the cane in front of all the people. Of course the capo had hesitated, as usual, until it was too late. Marco had agreed reluctantly to only two beatings since they’d been in the caves. One was a woman. She was too friendly with a man in one of the police patrols and although she protested her innocence, she received ten lashes on her bare back. She screamed and wept and begged them to stop. Giovanni felt the blood surge in his groin at the memory.

  If he could be sure of one thing, it was that the Englishwoman’s pride wouldn’t let her go back to the cave. He’d told his story well and she’d believed it all. She wouldn’t go near Marco again and she would be easy to follow.

  He thought of all the tracks that were visible from this vantage point, radiating out in different directions, all made by people over the decades. Some of the distances were great, but she would set off and eventually reach one of the villages. He knew the area well, and there were plenty of places where he could get ahead of her and lie in wait.

  After a long silence he heard the sound of a rock bouncing down the slope on the other side of the pool and a muffled exclamation. Gravel crunched. She was on the move!

  He hauled himself from the water in a swift movement and took cover behind a rock.

  No sign of her.

  His clothing dripped around him and be
gan quickly to cool. Dio! Add that discomfort to the list of things for which he would make her pay.

  He heard another cascade of stones from the path leading back to the caves. To make sure, he scrambled to the highest point above the pool and scanned the other trails. They were empty.

  Inferno! She was on her way back to Marco! Once again she’d tricked him and caught him unawares. He had to stop her.

  Even though his sodden clothes clung to him uncomfortably, he padded after her and soon had her in sight. She walked quickly, although limping slightly. She held the gun at the ready and she was nervous, darting glances around her, stopping once to look back. Of course she saw nothing except the empty track. It wasn’t hard to creep closer over the rocks as she picked her way down. He’d lived all his life amongst these mountains and could leap along the trails like a mountain goat.

  Then she came to a more difficult section and had to keep her eyes on the ground. The right hand side of the track dropped off into a steep ravine, thick with bushes and underbrush. He narrowed the gap between them.

  She stumbled on a loose rock, and the barrel of the gun dipped downward. He seized his chance, covering the space between them in two strides, clasping her in a bear hug from behind and clamping one hand over her mouth.

  She fought and struggled like a mad thing, kicking and swearing. He lifted her off her feet, ready to throw her to the ground, but she managed to twist her head and sink her teeth into his ear. A red cloud of anger and pain misted his eyes and brain. He yelled in fury and, in instinctive reaction, hurled her away from him, over the edge of the cliff.

  One hand over his torn ear, he watched her roll over into the gully, her arms flailing as she let go of the rifle and tried to clutch at bushes to slow her descent. Her body bounced against an outcrop of rock and he heard her cry out. Small stones slithered and clattered after her until she lay face down, almost at the bottom. He stood panting on the rim, flexing his shoulder muscles, letting the rage subside. It hadn’t been part of his plan to dispose of her so soon and he considered the wisdom of going down to finish her off, but knew he would waste precious time clambering back up the steep sides. Above the thick bushes they were covered with loose shale that slid underfoot at every step. The rifle had tumbled lower and was completely buried in the undergrowth. He knew this terrain. It would require a long and difficult search to locate the weapon, if it could be found. He had to take the risk that the woman was too badly hurt to make a search, even if she could get back on her feet.

  Her coarse clothing in browns and grays camouflaged her from any casual glance. An overhanging bush screened her head from view. No one would find her until it was too late. In an agony of indecision, he waited, weighing the danger of her coming after him against the need to get to Marco and to be present at the ambush.

  He waited a full minute and, when she didn’t stir, he brushed his hair back with both hands, straightened his shirt and set off to make his report to Marco and help him prepare to intercept the convoy.

  He was wet and his clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Something else for which he would pay her back as he bounded down the slope despite the pain of his ear, the throb in his head and the slowly subsiding ache in his groin.

  * * * * *

  “So, dottore, the woman’s punishment will be discussed again after the ambush tonight,” the man said to the group around Marco. The speaker was the leader of an important group of the men, 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.