LITMIR.BIZ

      Kathryn wept until there were no more tears left in her. She felt drained, exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep. When she woke again it was night. A fire had been lit in her chamber and someone had placed a coverlet over her, but the bed was empty beside her.

      Suddenly, she wanted Lorenzo here with her. She had needed to be alone to let go of her grief, but now she longed for the comfort of his strong arms about her. He had not come to her, but she would go to him.

      Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed. She went across to the fire to light a taper and touched it to a candle in her chamber-stick. She was approaching the door when it opened and Lorenzo entered. He stared at her in silence for a moment.

      ‘I thought you were sleeping.’

      ‘I was.’ She drew a deep breath, then continued, ‘But when I woke I wanted you. Will you not lie beside me, Lorenzo? It is a long time since we were together as man and wife.’

      ‘I was not sure you wanted that.’

      ‘How could you doubt it? Have I not always welcomed you to my bed?’

      ‘I would not blame you if you hated me,’ he said, his deep blue eyes intent on her face, his expression grave but questioning. ‘It was because of me that you were kidnapped. I was unkind to you in Rome when I feared to let myself love you and then I was the cause of an estrangement with your father…’

      ‘Hush, my love.’ Kathryn moved towards him, her perfume seeming to surround him, capturing his senses. She put her fingers to his lips, smiling up at him so tenderly that he caught his breath. ‘I have sometimes been angry with you, and sometimes I have broken my heart for the loss of you, but from the moment I first looked into your eyes in Venice I have loved you. My heart knew you as Dickon then, though my mind would not have it so. But Lorenzo Santorini or Richard Mountfitchet, I shall love you all my life.’

      ‘Kathryn…’ His eyes gleamed as he moved to take her in his arms, holding her pressed against him. ‘I do not deserve such love from you. I am not worthy of you.’

      ‘Perhaps not,’ she teased, a wicked expression on her lovely face. ‘But you may strive to be so for the rest of our lives.’

      ‘The rest of our lives?’ There was laughter in his face as he gazed down at her, his hold tightening, hot eyes devouring her with a passion that made her breathless. ‘For this life and the next,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I love you, Kathryn. I love everything that is you—your smile, your laughter, and your scent…your lips that haunt me when I sleep.’

      ‘You are no longer afraid that loving me will make you weak?’ she asked anxiously. ‘You said that it was the reason you withdrew from me in Rome and I have wondered—’

      ‘That was a fool’s notion,’ he replied hushing her with the softest of kisses. ‘Your love made me stronger, Kathryn. I was determined to live for you. Besides, it was because of that love that I am here with you now.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, feeling puzzled.

      ‘The man I was before I loved you would not have spared Rachid’s son. It was Hassan who spared my life after his father’s death. He is a Corsair and I think there is something of his father in him, but when we talked I discovered that he is a very different man. We have made a truce. Neither of us will attack the other’s ships. It means that I may carry on my trade without the need for so many war galleys.’

      ‘Do you trust him? Will he keep his word?’

      ‘I believe so. For years Venice had a similar treaty with the Turks. Before I left Rome I heard rumours that the Doge may make some sort of pact again. A tribute of gold so that we may trade in peace. Some would think it a betrayal of the League and all that it stood for, but Venice grew strong on trade and without it we would be nothing.’

      ‘And shall we live in Venice?’

      ‘You were happy in Rome,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Venice is the base of my wealth, Kathryn, and I must continue to trade from there. Yet I do not see why we should not have a home in Rome. My father will live in Rome for he likes it there, and I shall spend much of my time there.’

      ‘And when you go to Venice I shall go with you,’ Kathryn said, ‘for I would not be parted from you again.’

      ‘Nor I from you,’ he said and drew her closer. ‘I do not think life would hold me if I lost you, my love.’

      She looked up at him then, a naughty sparkle in her eyes. ‘Then lie with me, Lorenzo. I want to feel you close to me, holding me, loving me.’

      ‘You are sure?’ The heat was in his eyes, testament to his burning desire, but still he hesitated. ‘You wanted to be alone…’

      ‘Only for a little,’ she said. ‘I have wept for my father, but I shall put my grief aside now. There have been too many tears. I want to be with you, Lorenzo, to be happy and loved.’

      ‘You are loved, my dearest one, and I shall do all I can to make you happy.’

      ‘If I have your love, I shall be happy.’ She smiled and took him by the hand, leading him to the bed.

      Their loving was sweet and tender, a sealing of the promises they had made each other. Later, they made love again, a hot, hungry coupling that made her cry his name over and over as he thrust himself deeper into the warm moistness of her welcoming femininity. And when it was over at last, there were tears on her cheeks.

      Lorenzo wiped them away with his fingertips. ‘Did I hurt you, my precious? I wanted you so much…’

      ‘Never,’ she said, kissing away his doubts. ‘You have never hurt me when you love me. My tears were because you gave me so much pleasure.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Perhaps we have made our son this night, Lorenzo.’

      ‘When children come they will be welcome,’ he murmured against the silky perfume of her hair. ‘But it is you I adore, my Kathryn.’

      She sighed with content as his lips nuzzled against her throat. She was safe and happy in his arms, and something told her that a child would be born of such sweet loving.

      Chapter Thirteen

      ‘I think you are bigger than I was with my son,’ Elizabeta said, laughing as Kathryn pouted and placed a hand to the small of her back. ‘Poor you. These last few weeks seem for ever, do they not?’

      ‘Not

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