A chill greeted us at the Verona airport, as well as a guy named Saul, who escorted us to our destination in an upgraded Land Rover, the kind you travel in when your last name is Kennedy. The early morning sky still hadn't brightened, so the landscape beyond my window consisted of flickering lights and silhouetted buildings, but I had no trouble seeing the river as it followed the road leading to the high magister's home.

The Tudor-style mansion claimed the perfect patch of land overlooking half the city, and two prominent gables made the facade look like a professor surveying his students. Security lights blinked on as I stepped out of the car onto a chalky drive, and the sound of water carried over the fortress of neatly-trimmed evergreens, the only protection from an uncomfortable fall into the river. The ancient reverence of the place was written in the cobblestones and dense ivy covering nearly every solid object, including a statue that stood prominently inside a flower garden.

Terrance, the magister's houseman, greeted us pleasantly, albeit with a tired smile probably worn for guests who invaded the sanctity of his home at an ungodly hour. "Master Ricci is resting, but he will join everyone for breakfast," Terrance said as he ushered us up a staircase.

My brain couldn't have been further from breakfast as I took in the orgasmic assault of ornamental architecture; from the candle-lit chandeliers, to the fresco on the foyer ceiling, to the steps paved with terra cotta tiles, each one highlighted with hand-painted yellow and blue flowers. I purposefully avoided treading on the flowers, wishing I had my camera handy, but courtesy dictated I wait until I had permission from the magister.

"It would be in your interest to rest," Terrance went on. "One must always be at their best when engaging with Adamo Ricci."

"Has Boris Seacrest arrived yet?" Vincent asked.

"Boris arrived yesterday, sir. He and Adamo have been inseparable since."

Vincent's jaw tightened, but there was nothing to be done about Boris. The suck up. Colin and Sylvie were shown to their room first, and Sylvie barely had time to kiss me goodbye before Colin shut the door on us. Vincent and I had the room next door, and all I wanted to do was kick off my loafers and make myself comfortable on the bed.

The mansion, so far, had not disappointed. The motif of our rooms had a centuries old castle feel, with tapestries, ornately framed portraits of people I didn't know, and expensive Persian rugs. Red velvet dominated the theme, with much of the upholstery piped in gold, and ivory candles burned inside an antique candelabra in preparation for our arrival. To top it off, the room smelled of vanilla. The only thing missing was a trail of rose petals from the door to the bed.

"I christen this room, the lover's suite," I said. "Does Master Ricci entertain a lot of guests at his mansion? I noticed Colin and Sylvie's room had a hunting theme. Now, there's a metaphor for you."

Vincent dispatched his shoes and tossed them next to mine. "Gollums are passionate beings," he said as he settled in next to me. "Adamo Ricci makes no excuses for his lifestyle choices. It is one of the qualities I admire about him."

"So, he throws sex parties?"

Vincent grinned as he gave-in to my prying. "To rival the Greek gods."

"Something tells me you can vouch for the accuracy of this claim."

"After my magister ceremony. I was twenty-five. Colin lost his virginity that night. It might have happened in that room." He pointed to the wall separating our room from the hunter's suite. I turned to get a better look at him.

"And what about you? Which room did you slake your lust in?"

"This one. Déja vu, huh?"

A loud clunk echoed through the wall, followed by a giggle.

"Sounds like Colin and Sylvie aren't using their time to nap," I said.

"I think they have the right idea."

I pressed my finger to his smirking lips. "You face your grandfather in gollum court at nine, you don't want to get distracted by the wrong thoughts."

"The best distraction for me right now is you." Vincent flipped me onto my back and started peppering my face with kisses.

"Here? Now?"

"There is no more appropriate place."

"But, what if it's a test? What if Master Ricci has set this up? Terrance did say we should rest."

"If it is a test, we will pass with flying colors."

Vincent sealed my mouth from further bargaining, introducing me to his impatient tongue. While our lips collided in an impassioned kiss, his fingers played with the buttons of my blouse, and he heaved out a moan as he breached the gap of my bra and took a fleshy handful of my breast.

"I haven't tasted you since Saturday," he said as he kissed his way down my cleavage. "How did that happen?"

"It's called life. Remember, that thing we used to have before we met?"

"I think we have more of a life now that we had before." Vincent unsheathed my breast and took a nipple into his mouth. The soft playful way he circled it with his tongue had me arching off the bed.

"So good," I said as I stretched for the waistband of his pants. Sadly, my arm wasn't long enough to pull down the zipper.

Vincent handled those details while continuing his assault on my sensitive nipples, and when enough clothing had been removed, he rested his back against the headboard and had me rest against his chest. This position gave his fingers easy access, and he fondled me as he slid his hardness between my legs, seeking out his target with determined thrusts. I angled my ass to accommodate him, closing my eyes and absorbing that first hit of pleasure when he entered me. This position had its challenges, but the advantages outweighed those. Strangely, all I could think about as he rocked me from below, was the location of the webcams.

~ ~ ~

Adamo Ricci's face bore all the characteristics of a man who had lived an unapologetic lifestyle, with enough twinkle left in his eyes to tell you he probably still did. He held onto a lean frame, and his pleated trousers and collared shirt fit him like a man who had been used to wearing suits.

"Buongiorno, amici," Adamo said as he extended a hand to Vincent. "Many years have passed since you and I were together. And your brother has grown into a worthy avversario." Adamo stretched to shake Colin's hand as his gaze flicked between the brothers. "If I am not mistaken, you are rivals in nearly all things, except perhaps family business."

"You have been talking to Charleton," Vincent said through a polite smile.

"There is nothing wrong with healthy competition, especially when you have something special to gain from it." Adamo's gaze fell on me and I immediately felt my cheeks heat up. "And you are the young female I have heard so much about."

"Yes, sir. Reese Kentwell. It's nice to meet you." I extended my hand and he shook it lightly, as if he didn't want to bruise me.

"Have you ever come to Verona?"

"No. This is my first time."

"Be sure to visit the Ponte Pietra bridge. It is quite old. Older than any demon queen, but we will save that conversation for another time." Adamo turned his gaze on Sylvie and smiled warmly. "You have the spirit of a nymph. Has anyone told you that?"

"Is a nymph like a fairy? I've been called a fairy before."

Adamo appeared amused, lifting a single brow. "Oh, yes. They are similar. Have a seat and enjoy the meal Terrance and his staff have prepared."

Adamo gestured at the table just as Boris entered the room and sat down. He made a weak show of acknowledging his grandsons with a wave of his fork.

"Boys," came his grunt.

Vincent held out my chair, the one furthest away from Boris, then he took the seat next to me, forcing Colin to sit next to his grandfather, and everyone soon became distracted with the food; Italian frittata, orange wedges, and a cheese board. Freshly baked and smelling delicious, the bread had my mouth watering, and I ripped off a piece, preparing to butter it when Adamo started his inquiry.

"Reese, I understand you were raised by humans. Where did you grow up?"

"Washington, DC."

"And what do your parents do for a living?"

"Dad's a political analyst and Mom organizes charity fundraisers."

Adamo bobbed his head as he took a delicate bite of his food. "And did you extend your education beyond high school?"

"Yes. I received my fine arts degree in photography. So, did Sylvie. That's how we met."

"Oh?" Adamo turned his inquiring gaze on Sylvie. "And what about your upbringing, Sylvie? Where were you raised?"

Sylvie swallowed, although she looked like she wasn't ready to. "Rural Massachusetts. An hour from Boston."

"I know Boston well. My nephew attended university there and decided to stay. And what do you think about Reese now that you know her true nature? Do you have worries about your friendship?"

"None at all. I always knew Reese was a special girl." Sylvie winked at me, and this caused both Adamo's eyebrows to sharpen.

"Would you like to sit-in on the hearing and bear witness, Sylvie?" Adamo asked. "I was going to have my grand niece do it, but I believe you will enjoy it more. My niece would rather snap chat with her friends."

Sylvie smiled as she sipped from her coffee cup. "I would like that. Grazie."

As conversation continued between Adamo and Sylvie, I watched Boris' face grow stormier, while Vincent appeared to relax into his chair. Sylvie could charm the frosting off a cake if you caught her at the right time. She was also my staunchest supporter. I had a hunch Vincent foresaw this and provided me with a ready-made character witness.