He grinned. Too bad Cara wasn’t the Fire Maiden. She would get things moving, and fast.
“Where would you start?”
She started ticking off her fingers as if she’d already thought it all through. “I would reroute cruise ships to a harbor outside the lagoon. Cap the number of visitors per day. Use EU money to shore up the foundations of the most endangered buildings.”
“That would be every second building in town.”
She made a face, ceding his point. “Yes, but it needs to be done. The sooner, the better. Most importantly, we need to stabilize the ecosystem of the lagoon.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me you think MOSE will actually work?”
MOSE was an acronym for an ambitious system of flood barriers initiated in the 1980s. The thing was, construction still wasn’t complete.
Cara shook her head. “That money — even a fraction of it — would go a lot further through smaller projects with higher success rates, like replanting the vegetation that stabilizes river sediments. But that will only work if we restore the natural course of the rivers that come down from the mountains. That would also revive the nesting grounds of migratory birds…”
She went on in that vein for a while, her cheeks flushing with energy and passion.
His inner beast growled, thinking about stirring another type of passion in her and watching all that energy channeled to a different purpose.
I can see it now, his lion hummed, conjuring up an image of himself and her intertwined on a big, creaky bed. Sweating. Panting. Moving in perfect harmony…
Tony cleared his throat and did his best to replace those steamy thoughts with other things. But sea grass, sediments, and migratory birds just couldn’t compete.
“We need to protect existing nesting grounds and restore those that have been compromised…” Cara went on.
Nesting grounds, his lion agreed. I like the sound of that.
Of course, the beast meant a whole different kind of nest — like a cozy home for him and his mate. They could make love whenever they pleased, watch sunrises and sunsets, and—
He threw the brakes on there and went back to Cara’s grand plans.
“All that will take a lifetime, you know.”
“It will take more than a lifetime,” she agreed. “But it’s like the cathedral builders of the Middle Ages. Every engineer, every stonemason, every carpenter — they all knew they would never see the project completed in their own lifetimes. But they had faith that it could be done, and they took pride in their part in it.” Then she sighed. “Unfortunately, most folks don’t think that way these days. You have to remember that each step might not be so significant, but when it all comes together…”
She trailed off, gazing over the lagoon, and Tony could sense her transforming the view. Instead of a lone gull, there would be dozens of shearwaters skimming over clear, clean water. The boats would be smaller and slower, and the throngs of tourists would be better controlled.
Cara’s chest rose and fell in a wistful sigh, and his did too. Was it all a fantasy? Maybe.
Still, a man could dream.
Which was exactly what he must have been doing when he caught Cara looking at him a minute later.
“What?” he asked.
“Just wondering.”
He tilted his head, waiting.
She chose her words carefully. “I helped Fiorina because I’m close to the family. You’re not, and yet you risked everything — twice — for her.”
He shrugged. “It’s what we do.”
“We, who?”
“The Guerrieri.”
Cara studied him. “I know guerrieri means warriors, but something tells me you’re saying Guerrieri with a capital G.”
“You can say that. It comes from way back in the Settecento — the eighteenth century.” He waved around, imagining the city in its heyday. “Lots of parties, lots of affairs… And lots of unwanted babies as a result. Most were abandoned at convents — some of which even had scaffetta for that purpose.”
“Scaffetta?”
He drew a circle with his hand. “A rotating drawer to place a baby in, so the mother could remain anonymous.”
Cara’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Not so noble of the nobility, eh?” He motioned downstairs. “Even high and mighty Guardians did this. But they recognized the danger in abandoning children with powerful shifter blood. Not that they cared about the children — only the problems they might create when they grew up. So, they made sure those children received special training. That’s how the Guerrieri started, centuries ago.”
“Warriors,” Cara whispered.
He nodded. “An elite class of warriors. The Guardians’ private army, you might say.” Then he made a face. “Theoretically, my ancestors and Ercole’s could have been half siblings. But they still stick up their noses at us.”
“So, why serve them?”
He shook his head. “We don’t serve them. We serve Venice. When those things overlap, the Guardians favor us as servants of their will. When they don’t, we’re treated as outcasts.”
Cara scowled. “Who you’re born to doesn’t matter. Only your actions prove who you really are.”
Tony warmed, because the fierce glow in her eyes said, Yours have certainly proven who you are.
Yours have too, he wanted to say.
But the longer they gazed into each other’s eyes, the more his body warmed, and the words faded away. Most of his surroundings did, too, until all he heard was his lion humming a low, yearning note.
She is my mate.
“Cara? Cara?” Fiorina called.
Tony blinked, and Cara did too.
“I’m coming,” she replied, leaving him with a last, longing look.
Tony stood there a full minute after Cara disappeared down the stairs, hoping she would come rushing back. To talk…to touch…or maybe even to kiss.
Kiss, his lion murmured dreamily.
But she didn’t, and the sounds of the waking city slowly registered in his mind. Delivery boats chugged up the canals. Street cleaners swished brooms over sidewalks. The last of the traditional fishermen headed to market with their smelly catch.
Rolling his shoulders a few times, he forced himself to focus. His primary mission was protecting Fiorina. Amore would have to come second, no matter how much it pained him to admit. But maybe there was a way to serve both purposes. After all, he and Cara would be working together.
Still, if danger struck again…
He pulled out his phone, composed his thoughts, then dialed.
“McKenney,” Lachlan, the Highland dragon, grumbled through the other end of the line. When Tony identified himself, Lachlan groaned. “Do you know what time it is?”
Oops. Tony had forgotten Scotland was an hour behind. His friend was probably still snoozing in bed after a night of making love to his mate.
His lion heaved a huge sigh. Amore.
But that only bolstered his resolve. If uptight, love is an illusion Lachlan could live the dream, so could he.
“Sadly, duty calls.” The moment Tony uttered the words, he questioned himself. He felt a sense of duty, but to whom? Certainly not the Guardians.
To Fiorina, his lion immediately replied. To Cara.