Fiorina broke into a huge smile, then turned to Tony.
He didn’t exactly smile, but his eyes softened again — as long as he looked at Fiorina. When he glanced at Cara, his eyes showed a hint of a warm glow.
“Of course,” he echoed in a deep, growly voice. “It would be my pleasure.”
Cara was sure he didn’t mean any innuendo, but hearing that deep, growly voice utter pleasure gave her lioness all kinds of bad ideas.
“Perfect!” Fiorina clapped in delight.
“Wonderful.” Amalia beamed.
Neither nor, Ercole’s sour look said, though he held his tongue.
Cara glanced at Tony and took a deep breath, wondering what she was getting into.
Chapter Eight
Tony yawned, stretched, and blinked in the morning light. Then he stretched again — a long, feline stretch with his rear up high, his paws far forward, and his back arched. He held it for a moment, then stuck out one hind leg after the other, working out the kinks. And, madonna — there were a hell of a lot of those. Shifters healed quickly, but ten years of military action had left him with reminders of how that time had been spent. All those injuries, all those nights out in the open…
The curtains of the open window wafted in a light breeze. Beyond them, sunlight glittered over the Grand Canal.
He inhaled deeply. God, it was good to be back in Venice.
And on a decent bed. He dug his lion claws into the blanket he’d curled up on for the night.
The blanket had been Fiorina’s idea. No matter that he’d insisted he could sleep comfortably on the floor in lion form, Fiorina wouldn’t hear of it.
You can’t sleep on the floor. You just can’t. She’d spent ten minutes fussing over blankets and pillows the previous evening.
He’d put up with that mainly because it gave Fiorina something to focus on other than her plight. But he had to admit to sleeping exceptionally well in spite of everything.
Because of everything, his lion corrected, peeking toward Cara, who lay sleeping on a couch.
He’d tried convincing himself his sense of warmth and contentment came from being back home. That was true, but every time he glanced over at Cara, the feeling intensified. Like she was home, and with her, his life would be complete.
Of course, he would feel even more complete if Cara had spent the night in his arms. But, hey. He would take what he could get.
And boy, had the last twenty-four hours delivered. Not only was he back in Venice, but all the accusations against him had been dropped. All that, and he’d met Cara, too.
His heart skipped a beat.
He’d even scored a job as Fiorina’s bodyguard. When she had first asked, instinct told him to run for the hills. But things had a way of looking brighter and sunnier in broad daylight. Shadows receded, taking intrigues and old grudges with them, at least for a while.
He opened his jaws wide and bared his teeth in a huge, lazy yawn. He would have loved to release a hearty morning roar, too, but that would wake the others. Instead, he started grooming himself like the self-respecting feline he was. First, with long, meticulous licks of his legs, then thoroughly scrubbing his muzzle with a paw.
The previous night’s meeting with the Guardians had dragged on until well past midnight. At Ercole’s insistence, Fiorina had spent the night in a closely guarded suite on the top level of the palace. And at her insistence, Tony and Cara had spent the night in the same penthouse — him in lion form by the windows and Cara curled up on a couch. A few steps away, Fiorina had all but disappeared into the fluffy blankets of a huge four-poster bed.
Tony and Cara had stuck to a three-hour watch schedule throughout the night. Given the late hour, they’d only stood one shift each, and he could use another few hours’ sleep. Still, it was remarkable how easily he and Cara had fallen into a routine — as if she’d been one of the comrades he’d been through so much with and not a complete stranger.
Not a stranger, his lion growled. Our mate.
He’d spent most of the night teasing Cara’s scent out from all the others in that huge room. An earthy, honest scent that made him wonder whether she spent her days tending herb gardens. But she’d mentioned something about lagoon restoration, right?
He moistened a paw, rubbed it over his whiskers, then cocked his ears at the sound of someone stirring downstairs. A fresh crew of guards was coming on duty from the sounds of it.
Tony padded quietly around the room, assuring himself Fiorina was safe. Then he stepped behind a silk screen set in a corner, shifted to human form, and pulled on his clothes. Afterward, he spiraled up a private staircase leading to the rooftop terrace, pushed back a thick steel bolt, and peered outside.
Finally, he stepped out, closed his eyes, and soaked in the warm sunlight.
So nice. So warm, his lion hummed. How did we ever survive a winter in Scotland?
On that thought, his eyes popped open. Scotland. His plan had been to return there after a quick in-and-out visit to Venice. But now…
He walked a slow lap of the rooftop terrace, wondering how he would ever drag himself away.
Then he rubbed his hands, refocusing. All that mattered now was — well, now. It was so good to be back. So good to be absolved of the crime he hadn’t committed.
So good to be close to Cara, his lion hummed.
For a time, he gazed out over the sea of tiled rooftops punctuated by cupolas and bell towers. Then something scuffed behind him, and he whirled.
“Just me,” Cara murmured from the top of the stairs.
His jaw fell slightly open, and he stood dumb struck. Just didn’t apply, not with the sun backlighting her figure in an angelic glow.
“Buongiorno,” he murmured, dipping his head.
Her smile came from the heart, making it feel like the sun was twice as bright, the air twice as warm. But when her lips quirked, he patted his pockets, suddenly worried he’d left his pants half zipped or worn his shirt inside-out. Cara’s eyes caught on his chest, and he turned pink. His shirt was on the right way, but he hadn’t gotten around to buttoning the front. He did so hastily while she studiously took in the view. Still, he caught her peeking a few times.
She likes what she sees, his lion hummed.
He sure hoped so, but that didn’t mean he was going to march around like some kind of underwear model. They had business to discuss after all.
He cleared his throat and stepped over to Cara. “How did you sleep?”
Her sigh said it all. “How about you?”
“Enough for now.” He turned, gazing over the city.
“So, where to start?” Cara posed the very question on his mind.
With you, his lion filled in.
He wanted to know everything about her — her favorite food. Favorite hobbies. How she spent her days…
What she dreams of at night, his lion threw in.
He forced himself to concentrate on the relevant parts. “You seem to know the Fellini family well.”
Her eyes warmed. “In some ways, yes. Eight years ago, I worked as their au pair.”
“Just an au pair?” He stuck up his hands, mimicking her martial arts pose of the previous evening.
Her eyes sparkled — those amazing, two-toned eyes. “An au pair with a broad range of skills. A friend of a friend of the family put us in touch. I was told not to ask too many questions, and I never wanted to. All I wanted was for them to be safe. To be happy.” Her expression grew fierce.