no doubt hoped to sneak into the house while everyone was preoccupied. She stroked their silky heads, and they angled their faces against her hand, marking her with their ownership.
“Wait your turns, you two,” she scolded softly. “You’ll get leftovers as usual, after we’ve eaten.”
“Out!” Carlo commanded, pushing her aside with a brusque nudge and shooing the animals away with slaps upon their rumps. Liber, the larger of the two, snapped at him with his spiked pearly teeth. Carlo drew back a hand to strike him more fiercely.
Before Emma could raise her own objections, Lyon caught Carlo’s arm with stern fingers and glared at him. Like his pets, Lyon had never quite warmed to her husband.
Sensing imminent conflict, Juliette stepped between the two men and took Lyon’s arm, urging him toward the interior of the house.
Emma pasted on a smile. “Excellent suggestion, Juliette. Let us all adjourn to the sala da pranzo,” she told the group at large. “Dinner is prepared and waiting to be served.”
Turning, Emma went to the front door and gently coaxed the panthers outside. They went, grumbling in a way that struck her as similar to the behavior of the men she and Juliette had just ushered down the corridor. A small, genuine smile curved her lips at the comparison.
As she began to close the door behind the animals, a hand caught its edge. Dominic’s. His powerful warrior’s body leaned closer, and he braced his other hand on the doorjamb, caging her in the rectangular opening.
Disconcerted, she flattened a palm to his chest and then yanked it away when she realized what she’d done. “What are you—” she sputtered, recoiling from him and the frightening rush of attraction she’d felt.
His eyes caught hers briefly, and heat flared in them, stealing her breath. He loomed nearer until she felt surrounded by him. She garnered the distinct impression that he was contemplating drawing her with him outside into the shadows.
He reached out, and she parted her lips, intending to call for help. But his outstretched arm only moved beyond her to retrieve Carlo’s bag from where he’d left it on the porch.
“Mi scusi, signora,” he said, straightening as he hoisted it and dropped it just inside the hall.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you.” Feeling a bit ridiculous for her wild imaginings, Emma slipped under his arm and rejoined the rest of the family, hearing him shut the door behind her.
As she, Dominic, and Carlo trailed the others, her husband slung a proprietary arm around her in a rare display of possessiveness. He seemed to have picked up on his companion’s interest in her, and he didn’t like it.
Though curious at Carlo’s uncharacteristic desire to claim her, Emma allowed the embrace, glad Dominic bore witness to this reinforcement of the fact that she was linked to another. Held tight to Carlo’s side, she turned her face into his uniform jacket and away from the larger man.
Almost absently, he shrugged her away as he instructed a passing male servant to deliver the bag Dominic had left in the entry hall to his bedchamber.
His rejection went unremarked. But she felt Dominic’s sharp interest as he took in every nuance of their byplay. Impossible to know what conclusions he drew, for the easily interpreted emotions he’d displayed a moment ago in the doorway had now fled his expression.
“Dominic will be staying with us tonight,” Carlo informed her.
“Of course,” she replied, mentally sifting through the available quarters.
Though their renovated carriage house was not as luxurious as the castellos in which the others dwelled, she was thankful it was large enough to afford privacy. She’d make sure their visitor was stationed as far from their bedchambers as possible. There must be no chance of him overhearing any telltale sounds of concupiscence that might issue from their rooms during the night. Her cheeks pinkened at the thought.
“If you are sure I do not put anyone out,” Dominic murmured. She was surprised to note the barest trace of masculine humor in his voice, as if he’d read her mind and been amused by her modesty.
“Any acquaintance of my husband’s is most welcome,” she replied, relieved when they arrived at their destination at last.
“Grazie.” Those sinful lips of his curved upward, sending a fresh jolt of awareness through her.
What was wrong with her? she wondered as she instructed the servants to set an additional place and commence the serving of the meal.
Something about Carlo’s friend flustered her, but she shook off the feeling. It wasn’t him. It was his type. Charismatic men had always made her uneasy. He was too large. Too confident.
Nicholas, Raine, and Lyon were, as well, but they were an entirely different matter. She’d known them for fifteen years, ever since Jane had married Nicholas and brought her to live on the estate. They were comfortable and familiar, like brothers.
Perhaps her discomfort was simply due to the effects of impending motherhood, she decided as she sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband and his guest.
“Tell me, Dominic, why haven’t we encountered you previously?” Nicholas said once they were all seated, launching what she suspected would be a lengthy interrogation.
“Or even heard your name spoken?” added Lyon.
“I have no idea,” came the blithe reply. Dominic was toying with his food, and Emma suddenly wondered if it was unfamiliar to him. She motioned to the servants to offer him some of the other platters and dishes.
“You must understand that the nature of our work is sensitive and necessarily clandestine,” Carlo hastened to explain. “When the fighting today brought us close to the gate, we were temporarily severed from our regiment. As I’d already planned to come here to Emma, it seemed safest to simply bring Dom with me.”
“Only for the night,” Dominic remarked. “Tomorrow I go.”
“Will trouble follow on your heels?” asked Raine.
“I lagged behind in order to ensure we were not trailed,” Dominic assured him.
The soup tureen was offered to him, and he took its handles from the disconcerted servant and then stared at its contents, as though unsure what to do next.
“Cristoforo, do please ladle some soup for the signore,” Emma bid the servant, trying to smooth over her guest’s faux pas. Fortunately the serving boy was quick-witted. With a small, improvised bow of gratitude to Dominic for holding the tureen, he simply took the ladle from it and filled his bowl with soup before seizing the tureen and resuming his route around the table.
“Your scent,” noted Raine, who was gifted with the most acutely sensitive and capable olfactory abilities of the family. “It’s nonexistent.”
Dominic shrugged, unconcerned. “Excised at a young age in order that I might fulfill the secretive nature of my duties.”
“Which are?” Lyon enquired.
Dominic lifted a haughty brow. “Secret.”
Lyon leaned forward, scowling. “I ask not out of curiosity but because we have our own secrets and our families to protect here—”
“Cease!” said Carlo, throwing his hand up as if to slice the conversation and render it dead. “Suffice it to say that I’ve known Dominic for some time. He is what he says and no danger to us.”
Lifting his wine, Nicholas stepped in to defuse tempers. “Very well. Tell us, Carlo. What news is there of the war?”
“The peace talks have disbanded,” Carlo responded, eagerly latching on to the new topic. “Two of the attorneys involved on our side were severely maimed by our enemies, and the rest have fled the negotiations for fear of similar retaliation.”
“Is it known who was responsible?” Jordan asked.