Training Tessa

Inc.

What did she desire?

A kiss, she thought, surprised by how fast that desire had blossomed. She pushed it away and chose a safer answer.

I wish to know…to know the things men and women do together.

He stepped back and Tessa tried not to sigh with relief. Her ease was short-lived, however, as he directed that intense gaze at her.

Is it only knowledge you wish, only words without the feel of flesh to them?

His question brought back the unwelcome feelings that assailed Tessa the night she watched the man she was to wed do things she had never imagined anyone doing. And not to her. Not to his betrothed, his future wife. No, Alviso did them to a stranger, a loose woman, perhaps even one of Nicolo’s protégés. Before she could deal with the hurt of that night, Nicolo moved back to her.

What longings do you hold in your heart, in your body? His soft whisper against her skin made her shiver, his words burning a path through the shell Tessa had spent her whole life acquiring. What needs drive you, Tessa?

Tessa shook her head. I don’t know what they are. I do not know how to say the things…the things I saw that night.

Tell me what you saw that stirred your own need so much you would take such a risk as coming alone to my home. Tell me what desire was so strong you would place yourself in my hands.

Training Tessa

by

Debra Doggett

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Training Tessa

COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Debra Doggett

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Tea Rose Edition, 2016

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0900-2

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

For Marti,

because you always tell me I can do it.

Chapter One

The burst of courage that had bolstered her when she snuck from her home faltered as Tessa stood face to face with Nicolo da Parma’s door. The plain brown cloak seemed a clever disguise from the comfort of her room but now she worried that she looked like a vagabond. A tiny spark of what her father would call common sense had her hesitating, one gloved hand poised above the roaring lion knocker on the door. As common sense rarely stopped her, she lowered her hand to the cold metal. Lifting the knocker required slipping her fingers into the lion’s mouth, an action Tessa thought apropos to her situation. Her courage slipped a bit further away at the thud of metal against wood.

Nor did the sound of footsteps on marble revive it. How naïve was her belief that she would be received in such a household unannounced and uninvited? Her father had a thriving business but she was not nobility. Offering her name would bring no recognition to da Parma. Her assumption that a man who did what he did would not be choosy about whom he allowed into his home seemed foolhardy standing on his doorstep. Would she even get through the door? What if the man had guards who chased away unwanted visitors?

Being thrown back out into the streets threatened a kind of attention that could unravel what she knew now was a foolish plan. Failing to persuade the man to listen to her was one thing. Causing a scene that would reveal her whereabouts was an entirely different matter. Were it not for her own stubborn belief that her entire future was at stake, she would run back through the gate before either scenario could happen. That belief, however naïve it may be, however much her knees trembled, kept her in front of the door. She would have the life she wished for, even if gaining it required breeching the gates of Hell.

Visions of Hell intensified as the door swung wide. Tessa stumbled back in anticipation of a burly guard. To her surprise, she had to adjust her gaze downward, for there was no giant of a sentinel blocking the doorway.

What greeted her instead was an old woman who barely reached her waist. Dressed entirely in black and bent from age and life, the woman glared at Tessa through amber eyes that assessed her and found her wanting. Tessa didn’t relax, however, for the look on the wrinkled face was as fierce as any guard could have mustered.

No visitors today. With that pronouncement, the door started to close.

Please, wait. Tessa pressed her hand against the door. I am here to see Signore da Parma.

No visitors today. Looking at her like she was stupid, the woman shook her head as she waved her away.

I must see him. And it must be today. I will not have another chance to come in the daylight and I cannot risk coming after dark. Please.

"Non."

Caterina.

The deep baritone had Tessa swallowing her words. So much for her persuasive skills. Now the guard had come and her chance had flown. But the tiny woman did not step back, nor did she command the guard to toss the unwanted guest down the steps. Instead, she only sighed before turning a reproachful glance to the man standing in the shadows behind her. Tessa knew it would be rude to stare at him, but she felt her chance slipping away. Giving in to the desperation inside her, she opted for boldness over manners.

Please, sir, I must speak with Signore da Parma. It is a matter of the utmost importance, and this may be my only opportunity to do so.

The utmost importance, eh? So important you would impose upon a strange man at his noon meal? That is a weighty matter indeed.

Tessa blushed. I deeply apologize for the intrusion. I am aware it must appear I am without manners, but it is only my desperation that causes my actions. I mean no imposition, but…this was my only chance to come here and I took it. I do beg you to forgive me.

As she offered him her most appealing smile, the man stepped into the sunlight, and Tessa gasped. No guard stood before her. Her smile faded as Nicolo da Parma himself gazed down at her. She had seen him in the courtyard of the inn near where her grandmother lived and recognized him at once. He looked her up and down with an expression much like the old woman’s.

In spite of your eloquence, you seem quite earnest and quite young. Since neither are qualities I admire in a woman, I fear the lesson you learn this day will be a disappointing one. I regret having to leave you with your desperation, but I am too busy for visitors.

He dismissed her with a curt nod then turned to go. Tessa wished she could fall to the ground, scream and rage against the failure of her plan. The thought of his reaction and the distinct possibility he would set his guards on her kept her on her feet. What little courage she had left kept her tears and her temper at bay. All could not be lost so soon. She had to stop him, had to make him listen to her. No matter what people thought of his wares, Nicolo da Parma was a businessman. Often enough she’d heard her father boast that a good businessman never passed up an opportunity to increase his profits. As she reached inside her for boldness once again, she hoped he was right.

I fear it is you, Signore da Parma, who will feel the sting of disappointment if you lose the opportunity I am bringing to you. Should I walk away from your door, you will be the poorer for it.

The coins in her purse were a pittance compared to the wealth this man held, but desperation let the lie slip through her lips. He turned and stepped out of the shadows, looking at her with more curiosity this time. This close, she saw more of his face, and what she had only imagined before took shape in front of her. The sight did nothing for her confidence.

It wasn’t that he was hideous or horrible to look upon. Quite the contrary, she found it hard to look away once his gaze captured hers. This was a man very different from the others of her acquaintance, for there was nothing soft or pleasant about him. He had the face of a warrior, lean and strong and covered with the shadow of a dark beard. Thick black hair fell to his shoulders, lying like dark silk against the pure white of his shirt.

It was his eyes that captivated her though. Amusement and something deeper, something more primal, danced in the emerald depths of them as his cold gaze moved over her with renewed interest. She knew him to be nearly twenty years older than her, and had expected to see some sign of those years on his face. Instead age had honed his strong features, marking them with an intensity that left no doubt who was in command of the situation.

It wasn’t only his face that declared his authority. He wore elegant clothes as they were intended to be worn, fitted to his lean torso in a way that said there was nothing he wanted to hide. Nor anything he needed to hide. His body held none of the paunch most men of his age had acquired. Every inch of him appeared to be hard muscle. Tessa tried not to gape. Though her knowledge of men was limited, she felt certain Nicolo da Parma was an excellent specimen of one.

Should I turn so you may get the full view, my dear?

Tessa blushed at her rudeness. How could she have let her mind wander? Instead of impressing the man into speaking with her, she’d gawked at him as if he was on display in the market and she was considering his purchase price.

"My apologies, Signore. As I said, my mother taught me better manners