The Prince (The Florentine 0.5)(14)

Her body was still responsive, but he took extra care arousing and opening her.

She placed her arms around him and pulled him atop her.

When she urged him forward once again he eased inside her, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.

“Better?” he whispered.

“A little.”

“I don’t understand.” He placed his hand on her hip, his eyes burning into hers.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she smiled and the smile was genuine.

“It’s gone. I’m fine.”

His expression darkened. “Something is wrong.”

“It was just the angle. It feels good now.”

To prove her point, she flexed her interior muscles, tightening around him.

A groan escaped his lips.

“You’ve never had pain during sex.” He placed his hand on the pillow beside her head and lowered his forehead to touch hers. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m fine.” Her brown eyes flashed.

She pressed on his shoulders until their bodies were flush. She lifted her hips, provoking him.

Gabriel began to move, his focus and attention solely on pleasing her.

They loved at a gentle pace until their desire for one another grew desperate.

Gabriel thrust inside her more deeply and Julia encouraged him, gripping his backside and whispering in his ear.

Suddenly, she was fluttering around him and gasping in the candlelit darkness. A few more movements and he too was overcome.

She welcomed his weight on top of her body, sighing into the hollow of his throat.

“Nothing feels as good as this.” She kissed his neck. “This is my glimpse of transcendence.”

Gabriel embraced her tightly, unable to find the words to respond.

Later, while she slept on his chest, he whispered a prayer in the darkness, asking God to protect his precious Beatrice and keep her healthy and safe from harm.

Chapter 9

“I have news, my lord.” Niccolò entered the Prince’s private quarters in the Palazzo Riccardi a week after the assassination attempt.

Unlike his villa, the Palazzo was located a short walk from the Duomo in central Florence and was not warded¸ which meant that others of his kind could enter the building. He’d chosen to stay here rather than at the villa, so he could meet with Consilium members personally and monitor the war movement.

The Prince sat at his desk, reading. He gestured for his head of intelligence to be seated.

“Proceed.”

“We’ve just received an urgent message from our agents in Venice. Our spy was able to secure an audience with Prince Marcus and deliver the message and the sword, as you instructed. Marcus immediately informed his inner circle you were dead.”

“So it was Venice.”

“Yes, my lord. It seems Marcus was behind the assassination attempt personally.”

The Prince’s gray eyes glinted. “And?”

“One of Marcus’s advisors questioned our agent, wondering why Vincenzo hadn’t delivered the message in person. The spy answered as you’d instructed and Marcus was satisfied. It would seem the Prince of Venice is hasty in accepting news that is pleasing to his ears.”

“So it would seem.” The Prince stroked his chin thoughtfully. “How much time do we have before they attack?”

“It’s unclear. Our agents report that Marcus is keeping the news of your death quiet. He doesn’t want to compete with other principalities for your territory.”

“A wise move. Did our agents in Venice provide any information about possible spies here in Florence?”

“According to our agents, Venice has been unable to plant spies in our principality.”

“They don’t need to. One of our own sold the schematics of our security system to Marcus. I want the traitor found, Niccolò.” The Prince’s tone was threatening.

“Of course, my prince. Ibarra narrowed the list of suspects to Christopher and a few of his top people. No one else had access to the schematics.”

“I believe he mentioned that in his report. But I want you to perform your own investigation. Keep it secret from everyone, except me.”

Niccolò bobbed his head. “I should mention it was confirmed that Marcus sent twenty men to assassinate you. Which means there is one invader unaccounted for, as Christopher said.”

The Prince gazed at his head of intelligence with a harsh expression.

“I want him found. Immediately.”

“Yes, my lord. Although it’s not my place to say, I believe Ibarra has located the invader and will present you with him shortly.”

“For Ibarra’s sake, I hope that’s true. What news have we from Rome?”

“None as yet. Lorenzo took a courier with him, but neither have returned.”

The Prince tapped his fingers on his desk.

“I’m hesitant to do anything further without the Roman’s knowledge.”

“We could empower our spies to deal with Prince Marcus directly. His successor would likely be wiser than he and know better than to wage war against us. We could exact tribute from him.”

The Prince considered this possibility, albeit briefly.

“An assassination is too good for Marcus. I want to stand in that palace of his with my boot on his neck and force him to surrender.”