He heard her say, “My poor babies.”He was in their tent with a shielded lantern providing light. She had stripped off his flak vest, combat jacket, and tee shirt and had him resting on his right side.“Here we go again,” he said softly. “Dr. Jackson is preparing to operate, I can tell. Where’s the release you want me to sign?” He grinned at her. His arm and shoulder hurt like hell.He winced as she glared at him. “What did I do?” he asked, “And what’s this ‘poor babies’ stuff. I thought it was ‘poor baby’, but with you glaring at me like that, I guess it wasn’t.”Her expression changed to her normal loving one and she ran her cool hand over his forehead. “Darling, I was feeling sorry for our babies. With a father who walks into every stray piece of flying metal and a mother who’s going to be a 30-year-old high-school dropout, what chance do they have?”She glared at him, but it scarcely concealed a smile. “Michael Callahan, if you don’t take the cake. Do you know what happened? Because I. She sat down on the cool stone bench and mused. Why did her Master keep her in so strictly? Why was she not allowed to leave the palazzo grounds any more, like before, and why did he regard such silence over it? She should be granted far greater freedom in her position. After the death of her Master’s wife long ago, she was practically the lady of the house and could command the slaves while the Master was away. Not that she remembered this or any other wife of his, nor did her Master talk about the olden days. No?She didn’t even know how old he really was, she thought absent-mindedly. Lorenzo da Roccia is fifty, people always said.She must have dozed off, for when she heard the treads approaching softly but steadily on the marble floor, she couldn’t remember how much time had passed. She slowly opened her drowsy eyes and beheld his glorious form before her, illuminated by the light of one candelabre he held in his hands. ?Cara? Everything alright with you, sweeting? I heard the.
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