Rhiannon's Pride (Panthera, Book Two)

An Excerpt From: RHIANNON´S PRIDE

Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

As Dante progressed toward the Palazzo Vecchio, his keen eyes raked the crowd, alighting upon the back of an Englishwoman. Her scent became stronger, drawing him to a sudden halt. Si, she was the one he´d been looking for.

Unlike Florentine women and servants who wore fabrics that conveyed their household´s status and wealth, this woman wore a faded brown dress with a linen apron. Her pale blonde hair was confined in a severe knot at the nape. She was at least a head and shoulders taller than most women in the piazza, including the older maid hovering nearby. The woman´s thinness bothered him, as it hinted she may have recovered from a recent illness or gone hungry too long.

Frowning, Dante moved close enough to pounce should she attempt to run and far enough away to observe her without detection. Her cassia scent tugged at his conscience, warning there was something about her he might miss if he did not take the time to study her.

As he watched he realized why her scent reached him over and above the other women. Cassia shared origins with cinnamon, two spices often used in Abcynian sustenance for flavor. The Englishwoman´s fragrance was inherent, not the result of perfume. She moved slowly, with both grace and purpose. He guessed she would be strong, that her movements were made to avoid hurting herself or someone else.

Instinct told him she was only part panthera Abcynian. Had she been fully his kind, he´d have sensed her the moment she stepped into the piazza. He assumed that she had either been converted or she was the child of a converted pair.

Drawing in her spicy fragrance, Dante found himself hesitating. This Englishwoman could well be his mate. If he spoke to her and she acknowledged him, he would claim her as his mate by right of Abcynian law. He didn´t know if he was ready to be mated, regardless of being an Elder.

Being mated meant sacrifice. Mated meant he could no longer take another lover. Dio knew he loved women, too many to count if he were honest. Whether they were young or older, heavy or slight, tall or short, their uniqueness touched his soul and made him long to become as masterful in bed as he was with a paintbrush and chisel. He´d lived two hundred and forty-two years, forty-two of them as an Elder. Was it right to claim one woman and ignore the rest?

With a start, his concerns became inconsequential when she turned. Lifting her chin, she revealed her face, reminding Dante of the first time he´d seen a naked woman. He´d been unable to move then, unable to find his voice or do anything other than stare.

This woman was neither naked nor pleasantly attired. But she was beautiful with her honey colored skin and pale blonde hair. Her face was blessed with the high cheekbones and elegant, straight nose of a female panthera leo, a firm though feminine chin and a lush mouth that made him groan. Her lips were as ripe and plump as berries, begging for a man´s kiss. Yet it was her eyes that caught his heart. They were pure, haunting amber, hinting of a woman´s vulnerability and a lioness´ curiosity.

Unwilling to delay further, Dante spoke to her with his mind. Bella, per favore viene.

Waiting in silence, he watched her look over at the older servant. "Mary, I think someone spoke to me," she said. Her voice was huskier than he´d imagined in a woman so beautiful. In an instant he was intrigued and aroused by it.

Smiling when she´d acknowledged hearing his voice within her mind, Dante stalked toward her.

Testing her, he continued to speak in the way of Abcynian mates. Come si chiama, bella?

Her pretty scowl sent need pooling low and deep in his groin. Already, he wanted to take her home and consummate their pairing. Surprised at how quickly he responded to her, he recalled Lucien Hunter´s advice before he´d come to Florence. "Always remember, my son, it will take a moment for your panthera half to recognize your mate. But it will take a lifetime to love her as she deserves." With his guardian´s words echoing in his mind, Dante ignored his aching groin.

Again his mate spoke to the older woman at her side. "Mary, I´m worried. Do you see anyone looking at me?"

Dio! Dante grimaced, looking about. His mate possessed the inherent grace of all Abcynian women, drawing favor from the men and envious glares from the wealthiest women. She seemed not to notice the curious stares.

Dante´s instinct to claim her warred with his humanity for dominance, forcing him to swallow hard to keep from roaring. It would not do for him to challenge every man that dared to look upon his mate.

I see I shall have to speak English to gain your attention, cara. In the way of our kind, tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.

"Rhiannon, are you feeling well?" The older maid revealed his mate´s name before Rhiannon could answer.

"I´m fine, Mary. I thought I heard a man whisper to me."

Do not ignore me, Rhiannon. This is not a whisper. Your maid should not have been the one to answer your mate.

"Your mate!"