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He was extravagantly dressed in a velvet doublet, parti-colored silk hose, and a short jacket with deep, satin-lined sleeves. He looked more comely than one of Raphael's archangels. ” Laura asked. “I've been following you. I was worried about you,” he added quickly. “Come on, let's get out of here. ” “But—” A stout matron plowed into Laura, and the surging crowd nearly engulfed her. Clinging to Marcantonio's hand, she followed his sinuous lead to the end of the bridge. The crowd thinned there, and she blew out a breath of relief.

The man took a step forward. His silence chilled her. “I have nothing you could possibly want,” she said, trying to think. Her free hand delved into the bag, and her fingers found the cork in the jar of turpentine. The bravo took a step forward. One hand reached for her; the other lifted the dagger. Laura stumbled back. She turned to run, but his hand streaked out and caught her arm. The stiletto descended toward her chest. Laura brought up her sketchbook like a shield. The glass weapon shattered against the hardwood surface.

Sandro could not bring himself to dignify the comment with a reply. First Pietro, now Titian delving into his feelings. Before long, half of Venice would know the trials of the Lord of the Night. ” The cloak dropped from Sandro's shoulders and pooled at his feet. A cold iron fist seized his heart and stopped his breath. ” Titian blinked. “I thought you knew. My God, it's impossible that you don't. ” Sandro demanded, clutching the front of Titian's batiste shirt. ” Titian drew back and shook his head in surprise at Sandro's hands.

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