“Yes, you have insulted me deeply,” she told him. “You have loved and lost. Or perhaps you did not love your wife. Perhaps she was just a possession to be displayed on appropriate occasions and bear your children.”
“Now you insult me,” he said. He was finding himself fascinated by this beautiful woman who spoke to him so frankly. Most women had hardly anything to say of interest, except, of course, the more educated of the courtesans who were expected to be interesting if they were to be successful at their trade. A man’s wife, or prospective wife, was supposed to be modest and retiring in everything except household matters and the raising of her children.
“Do I?” Bianca didn’t look in the least sorry. “I suspect if you wish to make a connection with the house of Venier, you would do better to wait a year. My younger sister, Francesca, will be ready for marriage then. Her beauty, according to my grandfather, is more to Venetian tastes than mine is. Francesca considers you the ideal man and she is certainly the ideal woman for a traditional gentleman like you,signore. I am not. Would not a woman like my younger sister suit you better,signore?”
“I do not wish to wait another year,” Enzo Ziani told Bianca as candidly as she had spoken to him. “My family is anxious for an heir, as I am the only son in our branch.”
“Ahhh, you wish for excellent breeding stock, then,” Bianca responded. “Best you wait for Francesca. We both come from the same mother and father, andmadreis a fine breeder of brats. All of our mother’s children have lived. Francesca is five years younger than I am, however. You will have more time to breed with her,signore, than with me.”
He burst out laughing. “You are deliberately attempting to provoke me,” he said.
“No, I am being honest with you,” she said. “I am flattered that sight unseen you would even consider a marriage with me. I know that your family is an old and honorable one, or my grandfather would not even have considered you. But I am in love with Amir ibn Jem, and I will not stop loving him. He has promised to come for me, and he will,signore. How embarrassing to have your betrothed wife stolen by the sultan’s grandson. There would be nothing you or Venice could do about it.”
“Venice is a great republic,” he countered.
“Yes, it is,” Bianca agreed, “but they are just as afraid of the Ottoman sultan as is the rest of the world. Venice will make only a token outcry over my going. The sultan is very fond of his grandsons.”
“If you believe your prince will come for you, then you are a fool. I do not believe you are a fool, Bianca. Your Ottoman prince has a harem full of beautiful women he has returned to, and in all likelihood has forgotten you already. You will come to realize that in time. I find you eminently suitable to be my wife, and I shall tell your grandfather so. We will celebrate our marriage in three months’ time, in September, at summer’s end.”
“TellNonnowhat you will,signore. I will not agree, and cannot be made to do so. I will stand before the priest and deny your suit. Consider the laughter of all of Venice when I do, and the embarrassment it will bring to both of our families.”
“You are a stubborn woman, Bianca,” he told her, “but I will win you over. Now, come and kiss me.”
“You have surely lost your mind to ask a woman who has so firmly rejected you to kiss you,” Bianca said, jumping up from her chair so quickly it fell over with a clatter.
His response was to reach out and yank her into his lap and catch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, which allowed him access to her lips. His mouth closed over hers, kissing her a slow, deep kiss.
Bianca struggled so hard against him that his chair came out from under him and they both ended up on the floor of the salon in a tangle of her skirts. She shrieked angrily to find him laughing atop her. “Get off me, you monster! You brute!” She beat at him furiously with her fists.
“Why? I rather like having you beneath me. Now I will be able to dream of what is to come between us.” He caught her hands and pinned her arms by her sides, his lips capturing hers again in a hot, passionate kiss. “San Marco!You are outrageously desirable!” he said upon finally releasing her.
Bianca didn’t like the fact that she found his kisses exciting. Were respectable women supposed to enjoy being kissed by strangers? And the fact was that Enzo Ziani was indeed a stranger. He was not Amir, and his kisses, while provoking and appealing, were not Amir’s. They did not leave her weak with a desperate longing. She yanked her head away, and gathering all of her strength pushed him off her so she might scramble to her feet. One of her silk slippers came off in the process, and he grabbed at her foot. She took great pleasure in kicking him away.
“You are a seducer of women,signore,” Bianca told him angrily. “My grandfather shall learn of this atrocious behavior you have exhibited with me!” Then she stormed from the little salon, clutching her slipper in her hand.
Behind her Enzo Ziani still sat upon the floor, laughing. What a woman! And she was going to be his wife! He didn’t give a damn about her Turk. He would make her forget all about that infidel prince when he made love to her. He jumped to his feet, smoothing out his fur-trimmed velvet robe. His cock was hard with the sudden need for her that had overcome him. Thank God his garment covered his lust.
Then suddenly the door to the salon opened, and Francesca came in. “Oh!” she said, feigning surprise. “I didn’t know anyone was here,signore. How nice to see you. Did you come to see me?” And she smiled at him coyly.
Damn!he thought. Well, best to discourage her now rather than have her mooning after him. “No,bambina,” he told her. “I came to see Bianca. Has your grandfather not told you yet? I plan to marry your sister.”
Francesca’s face was suddenly frighteningly pale. Her green eyes grew wide with shock. “MarryBianca? You are going to marry Bianca? She does not love you. She loves her infidel. Did mynonnotell you that? Or that he was her lover?”
“I know all of that. Bianca only thinks she loves this Turk, but she will come to love me, and even if she doesn’t, we are a most suitable match,” Enzo Ziani said to the beautiful young girl standing before him. “And your sister will do her duty by both of our families,bambina.”
“You would be content to marry a woman who will never love you when you could have a woman who does love you?” Francesca demanded of him furiously. “And do not call me a baby! I am not a baby! I am a woman,signore.” Then she flung herself at him, her arms going about his neck, her lips kissing him with a determined kiss. She released him as suddenly as she had entwined herself about him.
“Is that a baby’s kiss?” Francesca asked him. “Is it?”
Enzo Ziani was astounded. He had never imagined a girl that young could have such passion in her. “It was not a baby’s kiss, Francesca,” he told her, “but you must not kiss me again. You are too young to be my wife, and your sister is not. Eventually there will be a fine young man chosen as your husband. Be patient. Now, if you promise to behave yourself, I will not tell your grandfather of this incident.” He bowed to the young girl and quickly left the salon.
Francesca burst into tears. It wasn’t fair that Bianca be married to the man that she, Francesca, loved. She wouldn’t let it happen. It couldn’t happen! Then she remembered that weeping would spoil her complexion and redden her eyes. Francesca brought her upset to an end. Then she went to find her sister.
“You are not going to marry Enzo Ziani!” she said, finding Bianca seated outside in their grandfather’s small garden. “I forbid it! He is mine!”
“Who told you I would?” Bianca wanted to know.
“He did! You cannot have him, Bianca!” Francesca told her sister.
