Storm & Seduction

Warriors of the Wind #2 and #3

Anna Hackett

Storm & Seduction

Published by Anna Hackett

Copyright 2017 by Anna Hackett

Cover by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

Edits by Tanya Saari

ISBN: 978-1-925539-28-8

Original editions published as Taken by the South Wind, 2009, and Tempting the West Wind, 2014.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or places is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

Contents

What readers are saying about Anna’s Action Romance

Storm

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Seduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Sneak Peek: Fury (from Fury & Darkness)

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author

What readers are saying about Anna’s Action Romance

At Star’s End – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Romances for 2014

Return to Dark Earth – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Books for 2015 and two-time SFR Galaxy Awards winner

The Phoenix Adventures – SFR Galaxy Award Winner for Most Fun New Series and “Why Isn’t This a Movie?” Series

Beneath a Trojan Moon – SFR Galaxy Award Winner and RWAus Ella Award Winner

Hell Squad – Amazon Bestselling Science Fiction Romance Series and SFR Galaxy Award for best Post-Apocalypse for Readers who don’t like Post-Apocalypse

The Anomaly Series – #1 Amazon Action Adventure Romance Bestseller

“Like Indiana Jones meets Star Wars. A treasure hunt with a steamy romance.” – SFF Dragon, review of Among Galactic Ruins

“Strap in, enjoy the heat of romance and the daring of this group of space travellers!” – Di, Top 500 Amazon Reviewer, review of At Star’s End

“High action and adventure surrounding an impossible treasure hunt kept me reading until late in the night.” – Jen, That’s What I’m Talking About, review of Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

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Storm

Anna Hackett

In the time of gods and magic, the monstrous god Typhon created violent winds—the Tempest Winds—to aid in his battle to rule the cosmos. The Tempest Winds wreaked havoc against man, and carried the dark vices of lust, greed, pride, and anger.

To save the world, the King of the Gods, Jupiter, gifted control of the cardinal winds to man. Five brothers became the Warriors of the Wind, and their sons and grandsons after them. Now, even in the modern age of technology, they are the only thing protecting mankind from this centuries-old evil.

Chapter One

The hunt had begun.

Dante Venti stood at the top of the Spanish Steps, Rome spread out before him. The wind swirled around his body, carrying the noises and scents of the Eternal City.

He lifted one hand and waved toward the night-shrouded buildings. The wind hurried to obey his order, searching for any sign of his prey.

Power pumped through his veins. Like his father and grandfather before him, he was a Warrior of the Wind, one of five brothers gifted with the power of the wind. Since the day he’d inherited his power, he’d been the Warrior of the South Wind.

His warm breeze brought back the blaring horns of the frantic Rome traffic, the laughter of late night diners, the exclamations of wandering tourists, and the whispers of lovers.

It also brought him the taint of his foe.

You’re better than them. The sly, nasty voice slid inside Dante’s head. Why do you waste your time protecting them? Succumb and accept your true power.

“There you are.” Dante ignored the ugly whispers, but he knew there wasn’t much time. He felt it inside him, each beat of his heart like the ticking of a clock.

Two weeks ago, the evil Tempest Winds had escaped from their prison warden, Dante’s brother Lorenzo, the Keeper of the Winds. Lorenzo had fought hard but the eruption of the Stromboli volcano had fueled the Tempest Winds.

Now they were free.

The news was filled with reports of the havoc the Tempest Winds were spreading. They carried dark vices and they were starting to infect whoever they could. Dante and his brothers were hunting them, had gone without sleep for days, but the fucking Winds were proving to be very cunning.

But Dante was close to finding his adversary. Somewhere in the twists and turns of Rome’s streets lurked Africus—the Southwest wind and keeper of its dark vice of pride. Dante eyed the group of tourists gathered at the bottom of the steps, eating gelato and snapping photos, unaware of the danger bearing down on them.

But humans weren’t the only ones susceptible. Dante already felt the pull of pride inside, heard the ugly whispers on the wind. That was the weakness of the Warriors…they were even more susceptible to the vices.

Starting down the steps, Dante turned his focus to his prey. He would scour Rome until he found Africus and destroyed him. Once all four Tempest Winds were released from their human bodies, the Warriors of the Wind could entrap them again.

Dante pushed through the throng of tourists.

So many people with nothing better to do than eat, gawk, and take photographs. They knew nothing of holding power, of keeping others safe.

Dio. He cut off the thoughts, turning into a busy piazza. It was pride speaking, not him. His hands flexed.

A fountain bubbled in the center of the cobblestone square and the restaurants lining it were pulsing with diners enjoying their meals, wine, and espressos. The sound of crashing plates and raised voices caught his attention. Across the piazza, he saw two men swinging punches. One tackled another to the ground, a woman screamed.

Dante’s gaze drifted beyond the fight. In the shadow of the fountain, he saw a tall man with shoulder-length blond hair watching the conflict. Dante stiffened.

Africus.

Moving fast, Dante headed for the Tempest Wind. But before he reached him, the brawling men and their onlookers barreled into his path.

He felt their boiling emotions. Hatred and anger twined with pride. Africus was feeding them, encouraging the fight.

“I’ll make you wish you hadn’t insulted my country.” A short, stocky man with a heavy British accent swung a fist at a taller Italian man.

The tall man dodged. “You come here and enjoy our country, then insult our women.” The man dived, taking the other to the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses.

The dark energy spilled into Dante, flooding his system.

Dio. Indecision vibrated through him. He wanted to skirt the fight and attack Africus, but he needed to stop the men.

The fight escalated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the square. The others watching started to feel the infection of pride, their shouts growing angry. A darker part of Dante urged him to ignore these small humans who were beneath his notice.

The smell of blood rose up. No! Dante couldn’t let them kill one another.

Let them. They deserve it. Dante looked up and his gaze clashed with Africus’. The blond Wind smiled.

Dammit. He wasn’t like Africus. Dante leaned down and ripped the brawlers apart.

Tossing the local to the side, Dante waved a hand and barked in Italian. Then he gripped the smaller tourist by the scruff of his shirt, dangling his feet an inch off the ground. The man’s right eye was swelling closed and his split lips were bleeding.

“I suggest you get your wife and leave.” Dante thrust the man toward a woman wringing her hands under the awning of a restaurant.

The man scowled and opened his mouth.

Dante straightened to his full six feet two inches. “Go.”

The man swallowed, then grabbed his weeping wife and left. The crowd dissipated.

The situation diffused, Dante swung back to the fountain. Africus was gone.

Cazzo. Dante’s jaw throbbed from clenching his teeth. He sent out the wind, hoping his enemy hadn’t gone far. But the wind brought him back multiple trails.

Africus was getting smarter. He was leaving false trails for Dante all over the city. Jaw tight, Dante headed through the square and into a narrow alley. He had to find his prey’s true trail.

Suddenly, a cold wind swirled up around him, ruffling his hair. He paused and watched a darkness appear in front of him. It coalesced into the tall, broad form of a man.

“Mio fratello,” Dante said, so damn glad to see his older brother.

Luca pulled him in for a quick hug. “I sensed a spike in your power.”

Dante pulled in a deep breath. “Africus was here. He got away.”

“We don’t have much time.”

“I know,” Dante replied. “I’ll find him.”

Dante looked at his brother. They could have been twins with their big muscled builds and dark curly hair. But Luca was the oldest Venti brother, and he had a far quicker temper than Dante. Clothed in his designer suit, a white shirt stark against his bronze skin, and cufflinks winking at his wrists, Luca looked like the billionaire CEO he was…until you looked into his hard face and blue eyes. Then you could see the Warrior of the North Wind.

“Caecius has left Rome and gone north.” Luca turned, his blue eyes ice cold. “I’ll follow him, find the bastardo, and end him.”

Caecius was the Northeast wind and keeper of anger. Dante studied his brother. Luca looked calm and controlled, until you looked at his hands. They were clenched into fists, his knuckles white.

Luca would never succumb to anger. Dante knew his brother was as stubborn as he was strong. Dante wanted to share that he could feel the pride building in him, filling him with thoughts that horrified him…but he wouldn’t burden Luca.

Dante clasped his brother’s shoulder. “And I’ll beat Africus. How are Antonio and Soren going with the hunt?”

“Antonio knows his quarry is in Florence. He’s trying to flush him out.” A muscle in Luca’s jaw clenched. “Soren’s gone north to Como on the trail of his wind.”

“The Tempest Winds have never hidden like this before.” Worry nipped at Dante with sharp teeth. He carried the memories of his Warrior of the Wind ancestors. He remembered all the times over the centuries their foe had escaped. They usually hit hard, spreading their vices as hard and fast as they could. “It feels like Africus is toying with me, taunting me.”

Luca’s frown deepened. “Brute force didn’t work for them in the past. I think this time they’re being more cunning.”

“I spoke with Lorenzo today,” Dante said.

Luca made a noise. “So he wasn’t busy kissing my horse trainer?”

Dante smiled. “You’re just mad he stole your American horse trainer and now you have to hire a replacement.”

“And no one is as good with horses as Riley. Still, I’m glad Lorenzo found love.” Luca shook his head. “It isn’t for me, but I can see that Riley has soothed some of Lorenzo’s sharp, brooding edges.”

“He told me he thinks Riley has Aurae blood.”

“What?” Luca’s head whipped around. “All my evidence points to the keepers of the seasonal breezes being extinct.”

In the past, the Warriors of the Wind had an advantage—the Aurae. Warrior women who controlled the seasonal breezes, and who were potential mates.

“He’s not sure, but he thinks that mixed with her other supernatural heritage is Aurae blood. That’s why they were so drawn to each other. She is his true mate.”

Luca sucked in a breath. “I have no desire for a mate, but if there are still Aurae in existence, they could help us in this battle.”

Suddenly Dante felt a ripple of something in the air. He narrowed his gaze. “Africus is causing trouble again. I have to go.”

“Be careful, Dante.”

“You too, mio fratello.” He clasped Luca’s arm. “Good hunting.”

With a nod, Luca turned away and summoned his power. Dante felt the icy prickle of the cold North Wind. He watched his brother’s big body dissolve, turning into the wind itself. Then Luca was gone.

As Dante moved deeper through the back alleys of Rome, the whispers in his head grew.

You’re better, stronger, more powerful. Humans are ants beneath your feet. Embrace your power and do as you please.

He gritted his teeth and kept moving. Dio, he wished he was in his office in the shipyard at Naples. Or better yet, out on the deck of one of his container ships, supervising the loading, the salty sea air in his face. He much preferred the challenge of his job at Venti Shipping to the bustle of Rome.

Do as you please. Take what you want. You deserve it.

Dio, he was tempted. Just walk away and go back to his ships and his weekends spent out on his yacht.

Fuck. In an empty alleyway, he pressed his back against the brick wall of a building. It was the pride talking. He would remain in control. Scraping a hand over his face, he closed his eyes. Tiredness rode him hard. He hadn’t slept in three days.

He had to stop Africus before pride drove him mad.

Stalking down the darkened street, he moved farther from the crowds. The quiet helped soothe his ragged nerves. His wind came back to him, carrying Africus’ stench. His shoulders tensed and he followed, turning through the maze of city streets. It wasn’t long before he realized his wind had led him to the Forum.

Once the heart of the Roman Empire, it was now an amazing collection of ruined temples and buildings. In his mind, he recalled the memory of a previous Warrior of the Wind, and saw what it had looked like in its heyday. Exquisite temples with rows of columns, travertine paving and crowds jostling to greet their emperor.

In modern times, it still bustled with crowds, but tour groups instead of citizens. At this time of night, it was empty and dark.

He moved with silent steps, not wanting to alert his target. His warm southern wind brushed over him, and warned him that someone lurked in the shadows.

Dante paused. It wasn’t the Tempest Wind. It was someone else.

He tensed and waited. Seconds turned to minutes. Nothing.

The sense of danger melted away. With a frown, Dante moved forward. Who would be stalking him other than his enemy?

He continued deeper into the Forum.

Afraid of the shadows, Warrior? Why should you, someone so powerful, be afraid?

Dante ignored the voice drifting on the wind. Ahead, he saw a flicker of movement in the darkness. For a second, he spotted a lithe figure moving in the shadows. When he looked again, he saw nothing.

But someone or something was watching him.

He called the wind. It grew up around him, hot and scorching, carrying a hint of far-off deserts. It ruffled his hair and caught at his clothes.

Then a body came out of nowhere and leaped at him.

Dante didn’t have time to react. His attacker slammed into his chest and the momentum took him down. Dante’s back hit the dirt, the air rushing out of him. A long, slim figure pressed two knees into his chest.

He felt the sting of cool metal against his throat.

Chapter Two

“Your life is mine, dark one.” Samia Hassan pressed her blade harder against her mark’s throat.

She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but before she killed him, she would look him in the eyes. It was a habit she’d formed over the years. Not out of respect to her victims, but for herself.

To force herself to confront what she was—a killer. Born and bred to hunt supernatural beings. The brotherhood’s best assassin.

Her stomach churned. Or she had been the best. Until a cold night, three months before, when she’d made a horrible mistake.

The hand holding the knife wavered. Then she sank her other hand into the man’s thick hair and yanked his head back. She looked into his face and everything in her froze.

The mouth-watering features belonged in a Renaissance painting. There was no mistaking his Italian heritage—bronze skin, straight nose, dark hair curling over his forehead. His eyes were stunning—the amber of expensive cognac. She’d seen photos of him in her kill file…but they didn’t compare to the impact of him in real life.

He watched her, his unblinking gaze skimming over her face. A strange feeling welled up in Samia, like a warm breeze rushing over her skin and through every cell of her body. He seemed familiar, like she’d met him before. But she knew for a fact she’d never seen this man before tonight.

His big body bunched beneath her. “Uh, uh.” She moved the knife, nicking his skin.

She’d kill this man, this evil, because this was her last chance to prove herself. And she had nothing else in her life but death.

He stilled. “Who are you?”

His voice was deep, sensual. His English was perfect with the barest hint of an accent that she knew drove women wild. She’d seen the clippings of him at parties and restaurants with glamorous, beautiful women.

Samia shook her head to break the odd spell of his gaze. “I’m the woman who’s going to kill you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “How about a name instead?”

She frowned down at him. He wasn’t afraid. When she held a knife to a man’s throat, she expected fear. Then she felt the power in him, pulsing under his skin, twirling in the air around them. He probably thought he could best her. But she had her own powers and it wasn’t just her skill with a knife.

“You don’t need to know my name,” she said.

In a flash of movement, he pushed her off him, surprising her with his strength and speed. She possessed far more strength than an ordinary human, even more than most of the beings she hunted. But this man was strong.

He tried to pin her, but she kicked at him. Her foot connected with a rock-hard stomach. She heard her father’s voice in her head, intoning her training. If he was here, he’d berate her for playing with her target.

Get the job done, assassin. Fast and clean.

They rolled across the dirt. Samia scissored her legs and managed to get on top of him again, straddling his chest. She jammed her knees into his sides and heard him grunt.

She slashed down with her knife, aiming for his throat, but at the last minute he dodged. Her blade sank deep into his shoulder.

He grunted and suddenly, a strong wind rushed over them. His body faded beneath her, like the wind was taking him away, and she dropped onto the ground.

Dammit. She scrambled to her feet. He’d escaped and all she was left with was a bloody knife.

She watched the blood drip down the hilt of her blade and over her fingers. Bile rose in her throat and another scene shot through her head.

A young face, lifeless. Innocent blood on her hands.

Strong arms clamped around her from behind. She was tugged back into the hard planes of a big body.

“That wasn’t very nice.” A masculine drawl.

She didn’t buck against him, instead she stilled. Patience was an assassin’s most valuable skill. “I wasn’t trying to be nice.”

His breath brushed over her ear. “My name’s Dante.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Venti.” She had an inch-thick file on Dante Auster Venti, Warrior of the South Wind. He and his brothers were Italy’s most eligible bachelors—rich, good-looking. But few knew what hid beneath their wealthy playboy personas.

“Well, you have the advantage. I’d very much like to know the name of the woman sent to kill me.” His arms tightened on her. “Or we can just stay here like this all night.”

Annoying bastard. “You’ll be dead soon, so I guess it doesn’t matter. Samia. Samia Hassan.”

“Samia.” He murmured it, like he was rolling it on his tongue, savoring it. “I’d like to know why you’re trying to kill me.”

“Because you’re dangerous.” She needed to remind herself that the job she did was important. Someone had to take down the strong beings that hurt those who were less powerful.

His lips brushed her temple. “No argument there, but the same could be said about you.”

His words were like a slashing knife to her chest. “I don’t hurt innocents.” She closed her eyes. Except for one terrible mistake.

“I don’t either.”

His voice sounded sincere and she detected no lies. Her heart kicked against her ribs. That was another of Samia’s skills—the ability to feel truth and lies.

No, he had to be trying to trick her. He wouldn’t be the first target to try anything to escape an assassin.

Except at this moment, this man had the upper hand. Why try to convince her of his innocence?

The elders had told her that he had killed, and used his powers against humans. From the brotherhood enclave in Morocco, they always researched a case beyond reasonable doubt before assigning it to an assassin. They were never wrong. “That’s not what I’ve been told.”

“Who do you work for?” he asked.

She remained silent. The brotherhood was so secret little was known about it in the outside world. It was the way they liked it.

One big hand slid over her belly, splaying over the inch of bare skin bared between her black T-shirt and dark trousers.

“Who do you work for?”

His hand tightened on her and she felt a spike of heat. She sucked in a breath. What was wrong with her? She jerked against him. Not once had she allowed herself to be distracted on a mission. Especially not by a man.

And not by someone she was sent to kill.

He spun her and Samia took her chance.

She kicked out, catching him in his hard stomach. He stumbled and cursed. She jumped at him.

And found herself caught mid-jump, held up in the air by a heavy gust of wind.

Venti held one palm up, his golden-brown eyes burning with an inner fire. Like something very dangerous lurked inside him. She felt the strength of his power wrap around her.

Samia pushed but didn’t move at all, held in place by the wind.

She cursed and stared at those eyes again. Then Samia noted something else, with the sharp instincts that made her an excellent assassin and kept her alive.

This man didn’t have the eyes of a killer.

She’d dispensed justice to many killers over the years, and each time, she’d seen the evil reflected in their eyes. Oh, Venti looked like a man capable of killing, but not one who’d take the life of an innocent for pleasure.

No. That couldn’t be. The elders had sanctioned his assassination.

“Fine. I’ll find my own answers.” Venti’s hand gripped the neckline of her shirt and with a twist of his wrist, he tore it open a few inches.

She gasped. The neckline gaped. He flicked the black fabric away and exposed her tattoo.

The black stylized writing was Arabic calligraphy and sat above her left breast. It spelled the word death and was the symbol of the brotherhood.

He gripped her shirt tighter and dragged her closer. His fingers were warm against her skin. “You’re Hashshasin.”

Shock tore through Samia’s system. Few knew their name. She fought to keep her face impassive.

“I know your people pride themselves on being shadows.” He released her, but the wind held her body in place. “But an organization can’t exist for a thousand years and think no one’s going to learn about them.”

He paced away, then turned to face her. His dark trousers outlined lean hips and long legs, and his blue shirt was rolled up, baring strong forearms.

“So, Signorina Assassin, are you going to tell me why I have a price on my head?”

She lifted her chin. “You can control the wind.”

He raised his hand. The wind around her lifted her another foot into the air. Like a damned puppet on a string. She shot him a fierce scowl.

He tilted his head. “That’s hardly a killing offence.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You infect humans with the darkness the wind carries.”

His gaze narrowed and he strode up to her. His face was only an inch from hers. “I fight the darkness of the wind. You aren’t describing me, you’re describing the evil I’m hunting.”

Her stomach turned over. The elders never made mistakes. “I don’t believe you.”

With a muttered oath, he shoved a hand through his hair. “And yet, I’m telling you the truth.”

Something in that deep voice and those cognac eyes made her want to believe him. Impossible. There was no way the elders had sent her after an innocent.

The young boy’s face came back to her. Ruthlessly, she pushed it away.

“Who hired you, Samia?” Venti demanded.

She remained silent.

He reached out and touched her neck. The touch was shocking, electric.

For a second, he looked just as shocked. Then his face hardened. “Assassin’s code, right? Don’t give up the client’s name.”

His fingers moved to the fluttering pulse in her throat. She tried to ignore the heat that followed the touch.

He leaned closer. “Give me his name.”

She locked her jaw and fought against the power holding her. “No.”

“Tell me.”

He was so close his lips were almost touching hers. She sucked in a startled breath, her gaze locked with his. Inside, something shifted and wanted closer. She had a crazy urge to press her lips to his. Oh, God, something was horribly wrong with her.

She pulled in a deep breath, and got a hit of his sea-scented cologne. Focus, Samia. “I won’t tell you.”

“Damn, you’re stubborn.” Suddenly, his head lifted. “My prey is close.” His face took on a stark edge and his eyes darkened. “I am more powerful than you can imagine. You were stupid to pit yourself against me.”

Samia watched something ripple over his face. Something scary.

“The Hashshasin have always been arrogant.” His hands gripped her upper arms, digging into her skin so hard she knew she’d have bruises.

Then he blinked, staring at his hands on her. He stumbled back, a muscle ticking beneath his eye. He looked like he was struggling for control. “Dio. Just tell me who hired you and I’ll let you go. You need to get far away from me. For your own safety.”

Something was very wrong here. Samia’s instincts were screaming at her.

“Tell me,” he ground out. “Before I need to go and stop Africus.”

She froze. “Africus?”

“You know him?” Understanding flashed in Venti’s eyes. “He was the one who hired you.”

Venti cursed. Suddenly the wind holding Samia captive dropped away. She braced her legs to prevent herself from falling.

He faced her. “I know you’re a killing machine that can only blindly follow orders, but Africus is a danger to you. He’s one of the Tempest Winds.”

Killing machine. She lifted her chin. He was right. She was nothing but a weapon. She focused on what he’d said. Tempest Winds? She remembered a vague reference to them in her file. “I have a job to do.”

“I suggest you find another assignment and stay out of my way, Hashshasin.”

“Failure is not an option for an assassin.”

“I’m warning you.” He loomed over her. “Do not get in the way of my duty.”

“And I can’t let you get in the way of mine.” But first, she needed to find out exactly what was going on here.

A scowl cut across his face. “What am I going to do about you?”

Samia called on her power and used her ability of camouflage to meld into the shadows. “Watch your back, Warrior, because I’m coming for you.”

Chapter Three

Dante watched the assassin disappear into the night.

So, he wasn’t the only one with power. His wind whispered she was still close, and he smelled her. An intoxicating scent, like a desert breeze carrying the sweet scent of jasmine. It seeped into him, warming his body.

“Africus will drive people to kill. It’s what he does.” Dante glanced around, wondering if the lovely assassin was listening to him. Could she make her own decisions, or was she only able to follow orders?

He didn’t have time to waste dealing with her. Every minute he was distracted was another minute Africus could use to poison and kill.

“Stay out of my way.” He called on the wind. It swirled up around him, powerful and primal. It rushed over his skin and with a single thought he let himself blend with it. His body dissolved away, leaving only his soul to travel on the air.

He soared through the Forum and back into the modern city streets. He picked up on Africus’ trail and followed it, trying to push the distracting thoughts of the woman out of his head.

Africus was a cunning bastard to send a Hashshasin after him. The organization had been created during the crusades and had built a deadly reputation for being talented killers. Luca was right. The Tempest Winds were using dangerous tactics to try and win this time around.

Dante had never expected an assassin to be quite so alluring. Samia’s face rose up in his mind. Impossibly sharp cheekbones, midnight-black hair cut short, copper-brown skin, and a lean body that ignited his interest. Her lush lips were at odds with the carved face.

And her slanted bronze eyes. They glinted with a tough, dangerous edge, but he’d seen something else in them—pain.

Merda. The Tempest Winds were loose and here he was obsessing over a woman sent to kill him.

As Dante put more distance between himself and the assassin, he heard the frenzied, nasty whispers on the air. The prideful words echoed in his head. A heavy weariness descended and made him want to give in. To just accept the pride and give up the soul-destroying battle.

He gritted his teeth. He was tired and needed to get some rest soon, or he’d be no match for Africus. Materializing in a dark alley, he strode out onto the street. Dio, he wanted to fight, not rest. But he couldn’t risk succumbing to the pride.

Reluctantly, Dante headed in the direction of the apartment Luca kept in Rome. Venti Enterprises’ head office was in the city and Luca spent most of his time here overseeing their vast business empire.

Stalking down a darkened street, Dante thought of his brothers. Did they feel their vice twisting inside them like a wild animal? Lust for Antonio, anger for Luca, and greed for Soren. Did it whisper beguiling promises and tempt them to give in?

He expelled a breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. He would beat this. Whatever it took, he’d fight to defend mankind.

Ahead, feminine shrieks filled the air. He broke into a jog and rounded a corner. Two women were screaming at each other in a barrage of Italian, tearing at each other. They were dressed up for an evening out, in pretty dresses and heels.

The stink of pride surrounded them like smoke.

They are nothing. Leave them. You have more important things to worry about. As one woman grabbed the other’s hair, tugging hard, Dante ignored the voices in his head and charged forward.

“Enough.” He pulled them apart as gently as he could.

“She thinks she’s better than me,” one woman spat. “She wants my man.”

“You think you’re better than me. Smarter, prettier, richer.”

“You’re my best friend, Valentina, I never thought—”

“I said enough.” Dante eyed them both. “Tonight is not the night for this. Both of you, go home. Things will look different in the morning.”

The women blinked, like waking from a dream.

Valentina blinked. “You’re Dante Venti.” Her gaze moved over him. “I’ve seen you in the magazines.”

He didn’t need this. “Go.” He circled around them and kept going. He hadn’t gone far when something tickled along his senses, like the familiar kiss of the wind.

His assassin was back.

He continued walking, not giving away that he knew she was there. Damn the woman for not listening to him.

Why are you worried? She is no match for your strength.

He wasn’t worried about her killing him. What worried him was that she was a tempting complication he didn’t have time for. He tried to spot her in the shadows, but her camouflage skill was too good.

A small smile edged his lips. But she couldn’t hide from the wind.

Dante kept his power gentle, just a small stir of the air. It brought him her scent, sweet and luscious. And her location.

Slowly, he pulled his hands out of his pockets. Then he spun and reached into the darkness.

His hands closed around slim biceps. He heard Samia gasp.

Her slim, strong form appeared and before he could say anything, she swung her arm, her fist slamming into his face.

“Cazzo!” He staggered and she jumped up and swung her leg in a roundhouse kick.

Her boot snapped his head back. Even with pain exploding in his nose, he somehow managed to stay on his feet.

With a growl, he charged at her. She tried to hit him again, but Dante wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also didn’t want her beating the hell out of him.

She was strong—stronger than a woman, stronger than most men.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he ground out against her ear.

“Let me go.” She jerked against him.

“Nope. Not interested in you planting your damn boot into my face again.”

“Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours,” she snapped.

Dante managed to spin her. They were pressed together—high, firm breasts plastered to his chest and her defiant face lifted to his. Her lips were only a whisper from his.

Staring into her dark eyes, the voices in his head receded. Pride, for once, was silent.

“I told you to stay away.”

“You didn’t expect me to listen, did you?” she said.

He saw the anger burning in her eyes. The little assassin didn’t like losing the upper hand. But other emotions swam in those dark eyes. Dio, had he ever seen anyone so lonely, so haunted?

He understood what it was to hold yourself apart from others. He and his brothers did business, mingled at parties, took lovers, but they never let anyone truly close. No one understood what it was to hold power and have a duty to protect. Or to have to keep that power in check every day.

But Dante suspected this woman knew what it felt like.

Wondering how many weapons she had hidden under her form-fitting black clothes, he pushed her up against the wall of a nearby building.

He ran his hands down her sides, over her gently curved hips. He pulled a long knife from her belt. His palms slid across a toned belly and down the sides of lean thighs. He detached another knife strapped to her thigh. “Can’t have you stabbing me again.”

She jerked, trying to lift a knee. He twisted his hips to block the blow. Continuing the search, he tugged a slim garroting wire from her pocket.

“Finished?” she said angrily.

“Yes. Are you going to try and kill me again?”

“Probably.”

Dante stepped back and they stared at each other. What the hell was he going to do about her? He couldn’t afford to have her darting out of the shadows, distracting him from his hunt. She might get him killed. Or get herself killed.

“Why did you separate those women?” she asked.

So she’d been watching him. He heard curiosity in her voice. “They were infected with Africus’ pride. They were friends and didn’t mean the things they were saying. They were going to hurt each other.”

The assassin blinked. “A black eye, pulled hair, and wounded prides are worth your time?”

“I won’t let anyone be hurt by the Tempest Wind. It is my duty to stop him.” Dante’s wind blew up, circling around them.

She tilted her head. “I can’t work you out, Venti.”

“I thought you assassins didn’t question your orders, just followed them blindly.”

Her lips flattened and Dante guessed he’d hit a nerve. “I’ll ask you again. Leave me alone and let me do my job.”

“I can’t do that.”

He muttered a curse. “You don’t leave me much choice, assassin.” In a swift move, he wrapped his hands around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder.

She kicked and beat her hands against his back. “Put me down!”

He slapped her shapely backside. “I don’t think so.”

“I will make you pay for this.”

The venom in her voice made him believe it. But not until he’d taken care of Africus. Dante strode down the street.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

“Somewhere I can keep you out of trouble.”

He heard her spit out a curse in Arabic. He strolled into the Campo de’ Fiori, a beautiful piazza lined by historic buildings. The cafes and wine bars were still busy and a few diners cast startled glances at them.

A statue dominated the square, the shadowy figure of the monk Giordano Bruno. It stood in the spot where the monk had been burned at the stake for heresy—his captors infected by the vices of the Tempest Winds during one of their rampages.

It was a reminder to Dante just how important it was that he didn’t fail.

“Buona sera, Signor Venti.” An eager young doorman held the door to his building open. His white smile was wide as he took in the woman draped over Dante’s shoulder. “A beautiful evening, no?”

Samia gave another kick and Dante subdued her, his hands biting into the backs of her thighs. “Ciao, Paolo. And yes, it is.”

“It. Is. Not,” Samia ground out. “Help me. This crazy man has abducted me.”

The young man smiled. “Dante Venti has no need to kidnap beautiful women. They flock to him like bees to pollen.”

Samia made a choked, angry sound and Dante gave Paolo a wink. He moved across the elegant foyer and into the elevator. Paolo was still smiling as the elevator doors closed.

Moments later, Dante strode into the apartment, his boots clicking on the glossy marble tiles. Luca owned the spacious penthouse, and had modernized it without losing the historic charm. Dante didn’t stop in the stylish living room to admire the stunning view of the dome of St. Peter’s framed by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

Suddenly, his tiredness crashed down on him. He continued down the short hall and into the bedroom.

He dumped Samia on the bed and watched her bounce.

It was then he noticed a startling fact. As soon as he was no longer touching her, the pride-filled whispers crowded his ears again. They bombarded him with nasty suggestions that a part of him wanted to believe.

Reaching down, he gripped her arm.

She tried to jerk out of his hold and kick him.

He held fast and deflected her kick. The voices dimmed and faded away.

Incredible. Somehow, touching this woman held the pride at bay.

***

Samia watched Dante looking at her like she’d just smacked him in the side of the head.

She had no idea what was wrong with him, but she was getting out of here. Out of the corner of her eye, she searched for a weapon. There was nothing in arm’s reach except the silk covers on the big bed.

She couldn’t believe he’d captured her. She’d made mistakes tonight even an apprentice assassin wouldn’t make. She could picture her father’s tight, disappointed face if he knew.

All because doubt had wormed its way inside her. She wasn’t sure what was going on with Dante Venti, but until she knew the truth, she sure as hell wasn’t going to kill him in cold blood.

Samia squeezed her eyes closed, very afraid that she was losing her edge. She’d lost it in the blood of a sixteen-year-old boy, in the doubt and hesitation that filled her. If she couldn’t kill, she’d be tossed out of the Hashshasin. And the brotherhood was all she had.

Fingers pressed against her cheek and she opened her eyes. Dante’s handsome face was inches from hers. A dark curl had fallen over his forehead, making him look younger. He cupped her jaw, concern in his eyes.

What if he’s as innocent as that boy? She’d watched from the shadows as he’d pulled apart the fighting women. He hadn’t hurt either of them, or let them hurt each other. What kind of killer did that?

She knew killers. Hell, she saw one in the mirror every day. Everything inside her was telling her this man wasn’t one.

Dante shifted and sat beside her. His warm thigh pressed against her leg.

She felt the air thicken. Damn the man for looking and smelling so good. “If you kill me, they’ll only send another to finish the job.”

He snorted. “I’m not planning to kill you, Samia.” His gaze turned considering. “They won’t send someone out to find you?”

She shook her head. “That’s not our way.”

Dante’s fingers stroked over her hand. “Are you that expendable to them?”

She glanced up. “Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m just a weapon. The killing machine you accused me of being.” Nothing more, not even to her father.

Dante’s jaw tightened. “You’re a human being.” His finger skimmed a lock of her hair. “And your eyes are so sad.”

Samia’s stomach clenched and she turned her head. The man saw too much.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Nowhere.” The brotherhood was based in Morocco, but she traveled the world and didn’t have a home.

“And what are you, Samia Hassan?”

She frowned. “You already know I am Hashshasin.”

He leaned closer. “No, I mean what kind of being.”

She had no idea what she was, and over the last three months, there were days she wasn’t even sure who she was. One slip of the knife and the identity she’d clung to all her life had slipped away. “My father is human. Born and raised by the brotherhood.”

“And your mother?”

Samia dropped her gaze. “I don’t know. I never knew her.”

“But the Hashshasin have a tradition of breeding with beings of power.” Dante forced her to meet his golden gaze. “You have an exceptional ability to blend into the shadows. Your father must have mentioned what she was.”

All Samia knew of her mother was that she’d gladly accepted the money Samia’s father had paid her to have sex, give birth, and hand her daughter over without a backward glance. Samia tried to pull away from Dante. “Why is my heritage so important to you?”

He held her close, intensity burning in his eyes. “Because every time I touch you, I feel the vice that torments me every day fade away.”

Chapter Four

At Dante’s tortured confession, Samia’s heart constricted. “What are you talking about?”

“I fight against pride every day.” His jaw tightened. “Africus makes it echo in my head until I can’t hear anything else.”

The air in the room sucked away. She searched his face and suddenly saw how tired he looked. Lines of strain bracketed his eyes and mouth.

He expelled a slow breath. “The Tempest Winds were freed several weeks ago, and my brothers and I have been hunting them ever since.”

Samia heard the truth vibrate in his voice and she wanted to believe him. “What happens if you lose the battle with pride?”

A stark look crossed his face. “Then I become the evil I’m hunting.”

“How could I possibly calm the vice?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I have my suspicions.” He scraped a hand down his face. “But right now, I can barely think straight. I’m tired as hell and need some sleep.”

Samia felt the unfamiliar need to soothe away his pain. To run her fingers over those lines on his tense face and see if they melted away.

What the—? Her fingers curled into her palm. She’d never comforted anyone. She wouldn’t even know where to start.

Dante stood and moved over to the dresser. When he turned back, he was holding a long length of rope.

Her eyes widened. “What is that for?”

“I brought you here to keep you out of my way and keep you safe.”

She moved into a crouch on the bed. “You’re going to tie me up?” She shook her head. “Think again, Warrior.”

He moved fast, but Samia’s reflexes were honed by years of training. She rolled. Dante landed on the bed and she leaped onto his back.

“Dammit.” He reached an arm back, but Samia landed a hard chop to his arm. He dropped the rope.

She snatched it and yanked it around his neck. With a growl, he stumbled to his feet and she gripped his back, holding on tight.

“Don’t…want…to hurt you,” he ground out.

He spun in a circle and managed to knock her off. Samia landed on the bed again and shot over it, scrambling on her hands and knees.

A hand snagged her ankle and dragged her backward.

Her hands twisted on the covers, but before she could do anything else, a heavy body landed on top of hers.

She froze. He was heavy as hell. Every inch of him had to be hard muscle. His sea-air scent surrounded her.

“Now, hold still.” He looped the rope around her wrist, testing that it wasn’t too loose or too tight. He reached up and tied her to the ornate metal headboard. “This rope is reinforced so it can hold beings of enhanced strength. You can’t break it.”

She glared at him. “I’m not planning to kill you…yet. I need to find the truth first.”

“I can’t let Africus win.” Dante finished tying the knot and lifted off her. He scrubbed a hand over his face and again she noticed how weary he looked. “For now, I just need some sleep.”

When he stood, Samia tested the binding. The knot was tight and there was no give in the rope. Dammit. Then she looked up and saw he was unbuttoning his white shirt.

As his sculpted, bronze chest came into view, her eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to sleep.”

“Here?”

He shot her a look, shrugging his shirt off. “I’m hardly going to leave the assassin trying to kill me alone.”

Bronze skin stretched over a hard, ridged abdomen and a light dusting of dark hair covered his pecs. She noticed the wound where she’d stabbed him had already healed. She couldn’t stop herself looking at him. And she couldn’t stop the traitorous curl of warmth in her belly that left her furious at herself.

He lay down on the bed, stretching out beside her. “I just need some sleep, Samia.”

“I could smother you in your sleep.”

He turned his head her way, one dark brow rising. “But you won’t.”

“I’m an assassin, Venti.”

“Since we’re sharing a bed, you should call me Dante. And you won’t kill me because you would have killed me already. I know you have an internal sense of honor.” He shoved the pillow under his head, his eyes closing. “Just want to lie here and get some rest. In the morning, I’ll let you go.”

His words were slurring from exhaustion.

“Fine, I won’t smother you,” she said.

A smile tilted his lips. “Grazie.” He released a long breath. “It is so good not to hear the whispers.”

Because of her. Because she could somehow help him.

She listened to his breathing even out, and stared at the shadows wavering on the ceiling.

When was the last time she’d helped instead of destroyed? She believed in the work of her brotherhood…they hunted the beasts and evil that might otherwise get out of control and kill.

But she worked alone, at the orders of her brotherhood. When she was back at the enclave, she trained. Her father was the head of training and expected more from his daughter.

She watched some of the stress leave Dante’s face. Samia needed to find the truth, once and for all.

***

Dante woke feeling relaxed. The bedroom was still dark and he wasn’t certain what had woken him. He’d had the best damn few hours sleep he’d had in a long time.

He heard the tapping of computer keys and blinked. He jerked up and his left arm wrenched.

He looked over and saw his wrist was tied to the headboard.

What the fuck? He looked over and saw Samia sitting on the loveseat by the window, her face illuminated from the screen of his laptop.

He glared at the rope and then her. “How did you get out of the rope?”

She didn’t even look up. “Super assassin skills. I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

He snorted. “A little assassin humor. Cute.” He yanked and the rope broke. He’d ensured it was strong enough for many supernatural beings but not strong enough to hold him. He stalked over to her. “How did you get into my computer? It’s password protected.”

She flicked a glance up to him. “I’m not only skilled with a knife. I have a few handy hacking skills, too.”

He dropped down beside her. “What are you looking up?”

“The Tempest Winds. I accessed some secret Hashshasin databases.” She let out a slow breath. “I believe you, Dante. About Africus and the rest of the Winds. About the Warriors of the Wind. Africus has duped the Hashshasin and brought shame to my brotherhood.”

This close to her, his head was completely clear of pride. He still couldn’t believe her presence calmed the vice. Her jasmine scent worked into his senses. She’d kicked her shoes off and his gaze drifted over her bare feet. Her toenails were painted soft pink.

Desire punched through him, hot and hard, and his body tightened painfully. But he pushed it back. “If I don’t stop Africus, if my brothers and I can’t defeat the Tempest Winds, the world is in terrible danger.” His voice took on an edge. “They will start in Italy, then spread their infection across Europe, across the world.” Horrific memories of the past flashed behind Dante’s eyelids—good people driven to do gruesome acts, families destroyed, lives lost.

“How can you stop them?”

“Once we release them from their human bodies, my brothers and I can lock them away with a vicious storm. Their prison is an island near Sicily, Isola del Vento. Their warden is my brother Lorenzo, the Keeper of the Winds.”

“He sounds formidable.”

Dante smiled. “He is a brooding loner who is damn good at his job. Well, he used to be a brooding loner. A feisty little horse trainer cornered him and he’s fallen in love now.” Lorenzo in love. It still boggled Dante’s mind. Of all his brothers, he would have picked Lorenzo or Luca to be the last to succumb.

Samia shifted and set the laptop down. “What will happen if the Tempest Winds succeed?”

Dante hoped none of them would ever have to find out. “In rage, brother will kill brother. In lust, friend will rape friend. In greed, parent will steal from child. In pride, neighbor will turn on neighbor.” He pressed his hand over hers, caught for a moment by how smooth her skin was. “I have to be strong enough to stop it.”

Silence wrapped around them. “I understand. That’s why the Hashshasin exist. From the time we can walk, we’re taught every possible way to take a life. We hone those skills with daily combat. We hunt the evil too powerful for humans to stop.”

Both of them existed for the same purpose. But he had grown up raised with love. Even after his parents had died, his uncles and their families had taken them in. And Dante had always had his brothers.

Who did Samia have? She was given orders and sent out alone. “Do you like killing?”

“I’m good at it.”

He detected something in her voice. “But do you like it?”

“I…I used to believe in what I do.”

Dante moved a little closer to her. “What changed?”

“I killed an innocent boy.” Her words were blank, empty of emotion.

Here was what put the sadness in her eyes. “Tell me.”

She inhaled a slow breath. “His father was a man who dabbled with powerful magic, using it to seduce women. He’d become a serial rapist and killer. I was sent to stop him.”

Dante tangled his fingers with hers, feeling tension pumping off her. “What happened?”

“The boy leaped in front of his father, to defend him. I couldn’t stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My father told me that one innocent life to save hundreds was worth it.” Her voice turned to a whisper. “Collateral damage.”

Bastardo. Her father sounded like the Hashshasin Dante had heard about. Hard, cold, fanatics to their cause. “Hurting the innocent is never necessary.”

“I see that boy’s eyes in my head every time I try to sleep. I haven’t killed since I took his life. I’ve tried.”

“I know.”

She gave a hiccupping laugh, then her voice sobered. “I wanted to kill again because I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

He slid his hand up and rubbed her arm. “You have a choice, Samia. To find what and who you want to be.”

Her dark gaze met his. “You’re more powerful than any being I’ve been sent after. I know you can stop Africus.”

Dante gave a humorless laugh. “Forever fighting the nature of what’s inside me, the temptation to embrace it…it makes me feel weak.”

She reached up and cupped his hard jaw. “The fact that you keep fighting makes you strong.”

He covered her hand with his and they stared at each other. He felt a connection pull tight between them. He cleared his throat. “We should get some more sleep.” He pulled his gaze off her, looking out into the night-drenched streets. “Dawn will be here soon and Africus will be quieter during the day. He’s been muddying his scent trail, and leaving false tracks all over the city. I have to stop him. I need to hunt him down.”

***

Blinding sunlight woke Samia. Something hot and hard pressed against her front, pinning her to the sheets.

Frowning, she opened her eyes, blinking against the light flooding in through the large window. Looking down, she saw a dark head resting on her belly.

She froze. Dante was sprawled over most of the bed, and that included her. One of his hands rested possessively on her hip and she felt the tickle of his breath through her thin shirt.

He was still asleep, and she took the chance to study him. She sifted her fingers through his hair. God, it was so thick and shiny, and more chocolate colored than her own black. She liked the solid weight of him against her belly more than she wanted to admit. Liquid heat pooled between her legs and she sucked in a breath.

She stared at the half of the handsome face she could see. The lines of strain were gone and he looked relaxed, younger. And he’d found that rest by lying beside her. A woman with death running in her veins had given another being comfort. Not once had she ever been needed, other than to kill.

During the night, she’d confirmed his story. The Warrior of the South Wind was no killer. He was a man who protected humans.

Anger shot through her. The Hashshasin had been duped by the Tempest Winds. Her brotherhood had been played, their reputation tarnished.

She was going to help Dante hunt Africus. Not just for revenge, but because she knew Dante needed her help. He needed her.

She ran her fingers through the dark silk of his hair again.

His amber eyes opened and she froze. He moved his head and looked up at her. Then his gaze drifted back to her cotton-covered breasts.

“Samia.” His voice was husky from sleep.

Her skin flushed and nipples puckered…which he could hardly fail to notice.

He moved fast, rising to his knees and pulling her up with him. His face was an inch from hers. “This is a bad idea.”

“I know.” She slid her hands over his bare shoulders, feeling warm skin and hard muscles.

“I have to stop Africus.” His hands gripped the bottom of her shirt and started dragging it up.

“My assignment is in shambles.” She leaned in and licked the side of his neck. His skin tasted salty. God, it had been such a long time since she’d taken a lover. So long since she’d been close to another human being.

He pulled her shirt over her head, then his big palms cupped her breasts. He groaned. “So damn pretty.”

As he played with her nipples, she moaned. She slid her hand into his hair and yanked his mouth to hers.

Oh, God, Dante Venti knew how to kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, and his lips moved over hers in a way that sent heat flashing through her. Needing something to hold onto, she twisted her hand in his hair.

She moaned and he deepened the kiss, pulling her close so there was nothing between them. Her breasts rubbed against his bare chest, and he explored her mouth, his tongue twining with hers.

Then he made a growling sound and lowered her down to the bed. “You taste so fucking good, Samia.” His big body quivered above her. He leaned down and closed his mouth over her breast.

Samia bucked. His tongue swirled, tugged. His teeth nipped, then he soothed again with his tongue.

“You are so beautiful, bella.” His mouth nipped at her neck, his tongue ran across her shoulder. “So perfectly formed.”

She moaned, breathless and hungry. No one had called her by an endearment, not even when she was a child. Something inside her strained for him, something wild recognized him. He groaned and switched to her other taut nipple, teeth scraping.

He moved his body fully onto hers. She felt the brush of his hard cock against her, separated by just a few layers of cotton. She wrapped her legs around his hips, scraping her nails down his back.

The ringing of a cellphone broke the spell. They both froze and when Dante lifted his head, they stared at each other.

“Sorry, bella, that’s my brother Luca’s ringtone. I need to get that.”

“Go.”

He pushed off the bed and Samia flopped back on the covers, staring at the ceiling, need vibrating through her. She tossed an arm over her face. What the hell was she doing?

Chapter Five

Dante strode across the living room, his cock throbbing and the taste of Samia still on his lips. He snapped open the phone. “Venti.”

“What took you so long?” Anger vibrated through the phone.

“Ciao, Luca. Yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking. How are you?”

His brother heaved a sigh. “Mi spiace. The anger…”

“I know.” Dante knew Luca was straining under the growing fury, heard it in his voice. “Have you found Caecius? What about Soren and Antonio?”

Another sigh. “Caecius can’t run forever, and Soren is closing in on Apeliotus.”

“Antonio?”

The silence made Dante’s nerves stretch.

“The lust is bad for Antonio. Corus has gone to ground in Florence and Antonio is barely holding onto his sanity without hurting anyone.”

Antonio was the most charming of the brothers, always ready with an easy smile. He’d always loved women—plain or pretty, slim or curved. It worried Dante that his brother had to deal with his problem alone.

“And you, Dante? How’s the pride?”

Dante glanced back toward the bedroom and the fascinating, tough woman he’d left there. One who left his body strung tight with desire. “Fine.”

Luca let out a low curse. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m telling the truth, mio fratello. Africus sent a Hashshasin assassin after me—”

This time the Warrior of the North Wind’s curse was long and loud. “Are you injured?”

“No. The assassin is with me. She—”

“She? Not Hassan?”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “You know her?”

“Of her. You’re lucky to be alive. I hear she’s deadly.”

Dante laughed. “I can attest to that. But she realizes that the Hashshasin were fooled by Africus. And there’s something else—” he drew in a quick breath “—when she’s near me, she helps me control the pride.”

“What?” Luca breathed.

“The whispers fade, Luca. The pride dies.”

“Madre del Dio. She’s Aurae.”

“She didn’t know her mother, and she can’t control the wind, but she has other powers. There is a chance she has diluted Aurae blood.”

“First Riley helps Lorenzo, and now this assassin helps you. It appears we now know that even women with faint Aurae blood can help us. You have to use her.”

Use her. Dante’s gut went hard like concrete. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“She’s been used by that damn brotherhood of hers. Born and bred simply to kill. They don’t let them do anything else, Luca.”

His brother muttered a curse.

“I will not use her like everyone else in her goddamned life,” Dante said. “I’ll stop Africus. Alone.” Samia stepped into the room.

Instantly, his cock pushed against his zipper. She was back in her black clothes, her face composed. Once again the lethal assassin.

“Luca, I have to go. Be careful.” Dante ended the call.

They looked at each other across the sunlit room. She was so beautiful—not in the classic sense, but the toned body, the sharp face, the short hair, it all worked for him. Something his body was telling him very insistently.

He shoved a hand through his hair. “This morning, I never meant for things to get so…out of hand.”

She cleared her throat. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He strode closer and stopped a foot away.

He watched her eyes flash. “Good, otherwise, I would have to hurt you.”

“I’m not going to apologize because I plan to do it again.”

A streak of color appeared on her cheeks and she cocked her head. “Oh?”

“Samia, I want you naked. I want to take my time to kiss every inch of you. I want to put my mouth between your legs and make you come. I want to slide my aching cock inside you and hear you scream my name.”

She blinked. “Wow, subtlety really isn’t your thing, is it.”

He reached and ran his thumb across her lips. “I just wanted to be clear on what I want, and how much I want you.”

She nipped the edge of his thumb and made him groan. “We might be able to negotiate on some of those things.”

“Negotiate?” He watched those lips move on his skin.

Her voice lowered. “There are some things I’d like to do to you, too.”

He groaned and then with his cock protesting the entire time, he stepped back from her. “I really, really want that, Samia. But I have to find Africus, and right now, there is no room for anything else.”

Her face went blank and she lifted her chin. “I understand.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “I doubt that.”

“You have a duty, I understand that.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her in close. His mouth slammed down on hers. The stiffness in her melted instantly. As he yanked her closer, she slid an arm around his neck, kissing him back.

Dante lifted his head and nipped her lip. “After this is over. We’ll negotiate.” If he survived the coming fight. “For now, I want you to go. Get far away from Rome, hell, from all of Italy. Warn your brotherhood.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to help you bring down Africus.”

Dante tensed. “What?”

“He’s dangerous and has to be stopped.”

He wanted her safe. “This is my fight.”

She cocked a hip. “I’m the best of the Hashshasin. I can help you.”

Dante spun away, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t need any help. I’m the Warrior of the South Wind!”

Samia watched him coolly. “Is that you or the pride speaking?”

Breath whistled through his teeth. Merda. “It’s dangerous, Samia. I don’t want Africus to hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of him. I have other skills apart from camouflage. I can follow a trail no one else can track. You told me he’s confusing his scent and making it hard for you to hunt him. I can track Africus.” She smiled at Dante. “And I can help you control the pride.”

He turned to the window, staring through the glass. “I will not use you like a fucking tool. I heard what you told me last night. Your brotherhood treats you like it does its knives…and you deserve more than that.”

She moved up beside him. “Then let me be your partner in this hunt. Let me stand beside you and help. Let it be my choice for once.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“So subtle.” There was a smile in her voice.

He grabbed her, pulling her up on her toes. “Okay, Samia, you can help me. On one condition.”

“What?”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t get hurt.”

She smiled. “I know this guy, he can control the wind. I think he’ll keep me safe.”

***

“He came this way.”

Samia crouched and pressed her fingers to the cobblestone street. She looked up, her gaze locking with Dante’s. “The trail is hours old.”

Dante cursed. She felt the frustration pumping off him.

Against her will, her gaze drifted down his body. He was in dark jeans and a white T-shirt that stretched over his muscled chest. She could easily imagine him striding across the deck of one of his ships. He didn’t look like a man content to sit in his office all day.

She could still taste him on her lips, feel his hands on her body. Not now, Samia. Evil bad guy to track down, remember?

“I’ll see if my wind can find him.” Dante lifted a hand and a warm wind rushed through the alley. It blew around them, ruffling Samia’s hair. With a jerk of his arm, he sent it out. “Find him.”

Moments later, Dante let out a string of curses.

“Nothing.”

She moved to him, pressing a hand to his arm. “We’ll find him.”

“We’ve been at this for hours with nothing to show for it.” Dante turned and slammed a fist into the brick wall behind them.

She grabbed his hand before he could do it again. “I don’t give up. Ever.” She stepped back and turned in a slow circle, letting her enhanced senses flare outward. She headed off down a narrow side street. “This way.”

As they walked together, no words passed between them, but it was an easy silence. Over the past few hours, she’d discovered that they worked well together. He was intelligent and a good sounding board for bouncing ideas off.

She sensed him watching her and looked up. She felt the hit of desire like a knock to her belly. God, would she ever be able to look at him without turning into desire-riddled mush? “What?”

“I always thought I preferred long hair on women.”

She snorted. “I don’t wear my hair to please a man.”

“Well, turns out I was wrong.”

Samia always thought she was immune to charm, but Dante’s words left a flush of pleasure. “Stop trying to distract me.”

Suddenly, she spotted something on the ground. She knelt, studying the scuff marks. They were footprints left by humans, but she saw something else. A dark taint she knew others couldn’t see. Something left by the Tempest Wind.

She pressed her palm flat to the concrete and felt the pulse of darkness and evil. Chest tightening, she jumped up and rounded a corner.

“Samia?”

She stumbled to a stop, her body going stiff. She sensed Dante come up behind her.

“We’re too late,” she whispered.

Two bodies slumped against the wall of a butter-colored building. They’d fought each other until their faces were unrecognizable.

Dante stepped forward, his hands curling. She watched him carefully check to see if either of the men were still alive. He shook his head. “Africus has tasted blood now.” Cognac eyes met hers. “Things are going to get worse.”

She felt his tension and saw guilt stamped all over his face. She knew exactly what that felt like. She grabbed his arm. “I can’t pick up any more of Africus’ trail here, can you?”

Dante shook his head, his jaw tight.

“Look, we both need something to eat, and maybe a short rest—”

“I can’t rest.” The words tore out of him. “Not while Africus is out there doing this.”

She ran a hand down Dante’s arm. “These men have been dead for several hours. I don’t think Africus is out right now. You said he’s more active at night?”

A short nod.

“Let’s just take a short break. Recharge, and then we’ll get back out there before night falls.”

“Fine.” He didn’t sound happy.

They walked in silence back to the penthouse. She knew he was lost in his thoughts and strung tighter than a wire.

The doorman was actually a doorwoman today. She let them in with a wide smile. In the elevator, Dante sagged against the wall.

“You need to switch it off for a little bit, Dante,” Samia said. “On some of my earliest jobs, I burned myself out stalking my targets.”

He looked like he wanted to hit something. The doors opened and they walked inside. He tossed his keys on a narrow side table and spun to face her. “How can I, knowing what Africus is doing? You couldn’t possibly understand.”

She stiffened. “Because I’m just a killer.”

“Yes!” he shouted.

God, that single word cut through her like a blade.

“You can’t know how it feels to have the weight of so many lives on your shoulders.” The veins in his neck strained. “You destroy, you don’t protect.”

She straightened her shoulders. What the hell did she care what Dante Venti thought. “Now I know what you really think. I’m out of here.”

“I am a warrior. A protector with powers you can’t comprehend.”

She froze and looked at him. She saw the lines once again bracketing his face and an almost-empty look in his eyes.

This wasn’t the Dante she’d spent the last day with.

This was pride at its ugliest.

“Dante. Come back to me.” She held out a hand and walked toward him.

“I will save the world. I don’t need any help.”

She saw sweat beading on his forehead. He was fighting it. She pressed her palms to his chest, felt the rapid beat of his heart. “That’s not what you told me this morning. You know, when you were kissing me and had your hand up my shirt?”

He blinked, some warmth leaking back into his eyes. “Samia?”

“I’m here.”

“Merda. The pride…”

“I think it’s gone now.” She moved her hands up to his shoulders, kneading them.

His chin fell to his chest. “I can’t quite remember everything I said. I’m sure it was vile.”

“It wasn’t you, Dante.”

“Right.” He blew out a breath. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “So, you’re back now? Feeling okay?”

He nodded. “Si.”

“Good.” She lunged at him, rising up to shove one hand in his hair and press her mouth to his.

He hauled her up against him, kissing her hungrily.

Samia leaped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He moved, staggered, then slid his hands under her ass to hold her. She rubbed against him, feeling the hard press of his cock between her legs. Pressure built inside her. “Now, Dante. I need you now.”

He made a growling sound and took two steps. He swept his arm across the hall table, his keys hitting the tiles with a clatter. She felt the hard bite of metal on her ass as he set her on the table.

Then his hands were tugging her shirt. Buttons popped off and pinged on the floor. “Yes.” She nipped at his lips, then ran her mouth down his jaw. She lowered one hand, teasing the waistband of his jeans before she cupped the large bulge in front.

“Cazzo!” His hips bucked forward.

His hands slid over her breasts, pulling the cups of her bra down. His fingers flicked over her nipples. She arched against him, heat flooding her. He stripped her bra off and bent his head, his mouth clamping over one nipple.

“Oh!” The sensation made her delirious. His hot mouth moved to her other nipple. She wanted this man more than she needed air.

When he lifted his head, his gaze burned into her. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t use you.”

Warmth burst inside her. “You’re not taking, I’m giving.”

“Last chance.” He stared at her, his chest heaving. “Last chance to escape.”

She smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Then he was tearing at her trousers and pulling them down her legs. She gripped the table to stop from flying off. The tight trousers caught on her knees and he made a frustrated sound before he managed to get them off. His hand went straight to her black panties.

“God.” She jerked as he touched her.

“Drenched.” He plucked at the cotton before a finger delved beneath, sliding through her folds. “You’re so soft.”

Samia tossed her head back and it thudded against the wall. She knew she wasn’t soft, she was hard and empty. Yet his touch, his words, they filled her with so much feeling.

“What do you want, Samia?”

She was drunk on arousal, on Dante. When he caressed the inside of her thigh, she jerked in unbearable anticipation. She knew she should stop this ruthless assault on her senses. She’d been sent to kill this man, not fuck him.

“I need you inside me, Dante.” With one hard jerk of his wrist, he tore her panties off. A husky cry tore from her.

“Not yet. Remember there were other things I wanted.”

Her brain couldn’t function. What was he—?

Then he dropped to his knees and pushed her legs up on his shoulders. Her eyes widened but before she could brace, his mouth was on her.

He lapped and stroked with his tongue. Samia cried out, fire racing through her. He flicked his tongue up to her clit and she bucked, her heels digging into his broad back. His tongue stabbed into her, one of his hands gripping her thigh while the other one slid between her legs. A thick finger eased into her tight dampness.

“Oh, God!” She looked at his dark head nestled between her thighs. She was so wet, her body clenching.

“Bella,” he breathed, his delving tongue making her cry out. “You taste so good.”

Her nerves were stretched to breaking point, her orgasm looming. He continued feasting on her and a low growl echoed in his throat, vibrating through her. She tugged on his hair.

“It’s too much.” She bit down on her lip, gasping. “I can’t take anymore.”

“Si, you can.” His voice was low, stark. “Say my name, Samia. I want you to know who is pleasuring you.”

Her lips parted and the intense pressure building in her had her vision blurring.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Dante.” Their eyes locked. “Dante.”

He sucked on her clit, hurling her into an orgasm.

Samia screamed. Fiery heat cascaded over her and she gripped Dante as spasms shook her body.

Chapter Six

Brutal need stormed through Dante.

The primitive urge to mate and claim was an almost painful compulsion. He rose and gripped her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the table.

Her eyes opened, some of the daze clearing from them. Then her hands were tugging eagerly at his trousers, lowering his zipper.

His body tightened and when her hand circled his cock, he groaned, long and loud.

“I need you,” she panted. “Now.”

“If I don’t have you, I’ll go mad.” He leaned forward, his cock sliding against her folds.

“Take me, Dante. Calm the storm in both of us.”

Dio. He fumbled for his jeans and pulled out a condom. He sheathed himself and with one hard thrust that rattled the hall table, he lodged himself inside her.

A cry was torn from her and her body bowed. “So…full.”

He leaned back, looking down at where they were joined. Where she was stretched wide around him. “Hold on, bella.” He started thrusting.

She gripped the edge of the table as he hammered into her slick wetness, animal-like groans escaping him with every thrust.

Samia’s cries echoed in his ears. So good. His vision blurred, pleasure coiling in his gut. He felt her body tighten around him. “Come again, Samia. Come on my cock.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Her body clamped down on his, and he gritted his teeth. He started pounding into her with an unforgiving rhythm. “Mine.”

She made an incoherent sound. He slid his hands into her short hair and forced her glassy gaze to his.

“Mine.” He thrust his hips, plunging into her again and again.

She felt perfect against him, her body fitting his like a piece of a puzzle. She took every inch of him, everything he was, good and bad. She’d been made for him.

The storm hit him and swept him away. With a tortured groan, he pumped into her one last time, his release jetting out of him.

When Dante came back to awareness, he felt wrung out, and…good. No darkness, no whispers, just the glow of really good sex. He nuzzled Samia’s neck. “Give me a day or two and I’ll be able to walk.”

She laughed, a sound he realized he hadn’t heard before. “Don’t expect me to walk anywhere. If you don’t carry me, I’m spending the next few hours here.”

Since his manhood was in question, he straightened and scooped her into his arms. He kicked his jeans away before they tripped him and then headed for the bedroom.

He dropped her on the bed and she stretched out with a groan. He ducked into the bathroom to clean up and was back in seconds.

His gaze skated over her perfectly-formed breasts topped with dusky nipples, her elegant ribcage, the long, lean strength of her flat belly and legs. His cock twitched and he swallowed a groan. Damn thing was trying to kill him.

“I need some food,” she said.

“I’ll feed you. After.”

“After?” She looked up and then her gaze dropped to his hardening cock. “You cannot be ready for another round.”

He pressed a knee to the bed. “Warrior of the Wind, bella. Looking at you, smelling you, I’m ready.”

“You’ll kill us.” She flipped onto her belly and tried to scramble across the bed.

He gripped her legs and held her in place. His gaze went to her naked ass, his cock going rock hard again. There was no pride, no despair, only Samia.

“I’ll take care of you, Samia.” He covered her body with his. “And I want to hear you scream my name when I make you come again.”

***

Dante finished stirring the pasta sauce and then scooped some out onto freshly-cooked pasta. He set the plate on the counter top and slid it over. “Eat.”

This was the life. Samia smiled at him. She sat on the counter in the fancy kitchen, wearing only one of Dante’s shirts. A hot Italian hunk cooking for her after giving her so many orgasms she’d lost count. She scooped up some pasta, tasted it, and then moaned. “This is so good.”

He smiled. “I can make a few decent dishes. My uncle is a chef and made sure my brothers and I could all cook.”

“What happened to your parents?”

He stilled, moving his fork around his own plate. “My mother got sick and died when I was young. My father was Warrior of the North Wind and was killed by the Tempest Winds.”

She heard the buried pain. She pressed her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”

He turned his hand and entangled their fingers. “It was hard. My brother Lorenzo was with him and saw it all. The Winds hurt him, too. It affected him far worse than the rest of us. Luckily, we had a big extended family and I had my brothers.” He lifted his other hand and tilted her chin up. “Who did you have?”

“The brotherhood. My father is one of their top trainers.”

“So why are you so lonely I can feel it from here?”

“Like you said, I’m expendable. If an assassin falls, another one takes their place. We tend not to get close to one another.”

A muscle ticked in Dante’s jaw. “You are not expendable.” He reached over and grabbed a slim file. “While you were exhausted from multiple orgasms, I did a little digging.”

She snorted and took the file from him. “What’s this?” She flicked it open, expecting to see something about the Tempest Winds. Instead, a picture of the teenaged boy she’d murdered was on the top of the file. Bile rose in her throat and she shoved it away. “You bastard—”

Dante moved, gripping her thighs to hold her in place. “Read the information, Samia.”

Her insides hollow, she grabbed a printout with a shaking hand.

Black magic. In training. Had killed before. Discipline at school covered up by father.

She blinked. She couldn’t believe what she was reading.

“He was his father’s apprentice, Samia. He had dark magic and he was helping his father kill those women.”

“Where did you get this?” Her voice was shaky.

“I have contacts. It wasn’t hard to find. He was evil, Samia.”

Emotions ran through her. “He was young. He might have had time to change—”

“He’d already killed. Numerous times.”

She closed her eyes. “Dante.”

He pulled her into his chest, hugging her tight. “You didn’t kill an innocent.”

She pulled back, pressing her mouth to his. He kissed her deeply.

Suddenly, Samia felt a rush of power. It was dark and twisted. She pulled back, feeling the power like black sludge on her skin.

“Samia?” Dante’s big body tensed.

She pushed off the counter and hurried to the window. “I can feel something…”

His shoulder brushed hers and they both looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass. The setting sun was painting Rome in shades of gold.

Then Dante stiffened like he’d been shot. “I can feel it now.” The French doors nearby slammed open and a harsh wind rushing inside. It knocked things off tables and tossed pillows across the room.

Dante tackled Samia and they hit the floor. He covered her as the wind howled around them.

Then it shut off, like it had never been there.

They both sat up and Samia stared at the destruction around them. “What the hell was that?”

“Africus. It was a taunt.”

They both stood. “He’s luring you out,” she said. “It’s a trap.”

Dante nodded grimly. “I can’t ignore it. I have to find him.”

Together, they hurried to the room and dressed. Worry nipped at Samia as she slipped her knives into their sheaths. Like her, Dante dressed in black—black cargo pants and a tight black T-shirt that accented his hard muscles. He looked like the Warrior of the South Wind, not a playboy shipping magnate. She set her shoulders back. Whatever happened, she’d help him, protect him.

As they stepped outside, the shadows were already growing. She pulled in a deep breath, absorbing the scents of the city.

Dante raised a hand and she felt his power flare. But minutes later, he shook his head. “My wind isn’t finding him. Or rather, it’s finding too many signs of him.”

Samia closed her eyes and let her senses expand. She could sense the shadows, hear the furtive movements of things hiding in the dark, smelled a taint in the air.

Her eyes snapped open and she spun away, her body tensing. “I have him. I have his trail.”

Dante nodded “Let’s go.”

They broke into a jog. They followed the trail through the streets and piazzas. A few times the scent grew faint, but Samia never gave up. Night had fallen when they came to a stop in front of the towering edifice of the Colosseum.

Whispers rose up around Samia, like a cloud of dark smoke. Taunting, tempting. Do you think you can best me, Hashshasin? Do you really think he wants a killer like you by his side?

When she looked at Dante, she saw his jaw was clenched. “He’s inside,” she said.

“Yes. I’m going alone from here.”

Samia stiffened. “No way. We’re working together, Dante.”

His face was stark, his eyes almost empty. “This is my fight. You’ve helped me, but only I can face Africus and bring him down.”

She stepped up to Dante. “Because you’re the powerful Warrior? Because you’re a man?”

He gripped her arms. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Samia.”

“The best way to do that is to let me help you take this evil down.”

“We both know we work better alone. You’re an assassin who lives in the shadows. I’m the Warrior of the South Wind.”

His words were like a slap to her face. Here she’d been thinking they made a good team. For once, she’d enjoyed working beside someone else.

“So, I was just an easy lay and a way for you to get some sleep.” Her voice was flat. “Right. Got it.”

He made a growling sound and pulled her closer. “Do not ever say that again.” His eyes were blazing now. “Africus is stronger than he’s ever been. I need to bring him down, and…”

Realization blazed through her. “You don’t think you’ll survive the fight.”

His fingers brushed along her cheekbone, then he kissed her—brief and hard. “Stay safe, Samia. And live that life you haven’t had a chance to embrace.”

With those words, his body melted away, turning into the wind.

“No!” she cried, reaching for him.

Her hands passed through him.

She watched his wind rush away, flying over the tall fence surrounding the monument, then high up over the curved stone walls.

Damn the man! Samia ran and climbed the metal fence surrounding the Colosseum.

He wasn’t getting rid of her so easily. Because Samia had finally worked out the first thing she wanted in her life. The thing she chose for herself.

It was Dante Venti.

On the other side of the fence, she dropped the few feet to the ground, crouching low to absorb the impact. Then she was up and running, blending with the shadows to avoid the security guards patrolling the perimeter.

She ran inside the main arena and headfirst into a wall of howling wind. The Colosseum rose up around her, a sense of history pulsing from the stone. Below the stands where the fans had once cheered on their favorite gladiators, nothing remained of the ancient wooden floor of the main arena. It left the underground tunnels and rooms exposed. Once they’d been filled with gladiators and wild animals waiting to be entertainment for the blood-thirsty crowds.

On the other side of the mass of exposed tunnels, she saw Africus.

Dante touched down near the Tempest Wind. She watched his body solidify and his stride never slowed as he headed for his rival.

“It ends here, Africus.”

Africus’ shoulder-length fall of blond hair framed his pretty, smiling face, adding to the unearthly beauty. “Yes. Let’s end this.”

The wind screamed like a wild animal, tearing through the ancient building at high speed. She heard the whispers in it, dark voices urging ugly, prideful things. She pushed forward, battling across a modern walkway that crossed the arena, her gaze on the deadly fight ahead.

Dante moved his arms and a huge gust of air knocked Africus to his knees. The Tempest Wind rose to his feet, and sent his own wind back in retaliation.

Samia pushed harder, barely able to take more than a few steps against the strength of the wind. She saw Dante stagger, but he stayed upright. The men clashed, Dante swinging out with a fist and Africus fighting back.

Africus fought back with vicious kicks and punches. Dante blocked and matched each thrust with one of his own. It was a deadly display of brutal hard fighting. Dante was bigger than his opponent, and seemed to have an edge.

Fighting the wind, Samia pushed forward. Halfway across the walkway, she saw Dante drop to his knees.

No. She hurried, battling the gusts tearing at her clothes and making her eyes water.

Suddenly the wind died away and she heard Africus laughing.

“Not so powerful now, Warrior.”

Dante’s groan echoed across the ancient stonework. “Stop.”

“Stop the whispers? I don’t control them, Venti. If you hear them,” Africus leaned close, his blond hair falling forward, “it’s because you want them.”

“No.” Dante’s tone was tortured.

Hold on. Samia increased her pace. She had to help him.

Chapter Seven

“Just give in, Warrior. It’s such a powerful feeling. Don’t you deserve it?” Africus wrapped an arm around Dante’s shoulders, like an old friend. “Join me. Stop fighting and revel in your true nature.”

The Tempest Wind helped Dante to his feet. Parts of Dante were screaming at him to fight while others wanted to give in. He felt a battle going on inside him, like he was being torn apart.

A woman skidded to a stop a few feet from them. “Fight it, Dante. Fight him.”

Dante looked at her, blinking and pushing through the pain. “Samia?”

“Yes.” She stepped closer. “He’s evil. Fight him.”

“I…I can’t anymore.” Dante drew in a shuddering breath. He felt a bead of sweat slide down his temple. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Accept the wind and you’ll be stronger.” Africus shot her a disdainful look. “She is merely a woman. She has no power.”

Dante’s forehead furrowed. “I’m already powerful.”

“Yes, yes you are,” Africus said in a soothing tone. “But you can have more.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Samia bit out.

“Take what the wind offers you.” Africus held a hand out to Dante. “Let’s stand together and take what we want. She is nothing but a killer. She can’t make you stronger.”

“I’m not just a killer.” Samia tossed her head back. “The Hashshasin decided that for me. But now I’m making a choice to be something else.” Her gaze locked with Dante’s. “I choose you, Dante.”

Emotion welled up in Dante, pushing through the dark morass dragging him down.

Samia moved, lightning fast. She threw her arms out and several knives slammed into Africus. The Tempest Wind howled and staggered backward. A knife was lodged in his thigh and another in his shoulder.

She strode forward and cupped Dante’s face. She leaned into him, her slim body plastered against his.

“What are you doing?” His voice was strained.

“What I need to do. What I want to do. For you.”

“I’m too far gone, Samia.” He exhaled, his hand shaking. “I can’t keep the pride in check any longer. Not long enough to kill him.”

Her fingers tightened on his. “Let me help you.”

He shuddered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She pressed her mouth to his.

The scent and taste of her hit him, breaking his fragile control. He wrapped his arms around her and yanked her off her feet.

Africus gave a frustrated screech. “She is a seductress. She thinks her body is worth more than power. She is beneath you, Warrior.”

Dante looked down into her face. “Samia. I need you.”

She twined her hand with his. “I need you, too.”

He trembled, focusing on the warmth in his chest, and not the ugly pride twisting in his gut. He stepped back, but kept his hand tightly wrapped around hers.

They would face Africus. Together.

The Tempest Wind laughed. “Pride will make you mine, Warrior.”

Dante felt the pride recede and where it had been was a bright, fresh warmth. What he felt for Samia was a miracle. The haze across his eyes cleared.

“Not today.” Dante released Samia and looked at her. “Ready?”

She pulled out another knife and smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

They charged together.

Dante saw Africus’ eyes widen in shock just before Samia slashed him across his chest. As the man screamed, Dante clamped a hand around Africus’ throat.

The blond man clutched at Dante’s wrist. He coughed, fighting for air. “You’re controlling the pride…that’s not possible. Only the—” His eyes widened even more and flicked toward Samia. His face twisted into a vile mask. “They were supposed to be dead. This was our chance to win and rule the world!”

Samia frowned. “Who’s supposed to be dead? What’s he talking about?”

Dante tightened his hold on Africus. “Have you heard of the Aurae?”

Her frown deepened. “Aurae? Why does that word sound familiar?”

“They were female warriors and keepers of the seasonal breezes,” he told her. “The Aurae can control the vices of the wind and aid the Warriors of the Wind.”

Her mouth opened, closed. “You’re saying I’m Aurae?”

Africus jerked. “You should be dead.”

“I think you have some Aurae blood.” God, she was so beautiful and deadly, his assassin. “They were also potential mates for the Warriors.”

“Mates?”

“Legend says the Warriors could each find their perfect match among the Aurae. A woman created just for them, who holds their heart and soul in her hands.”

Her eyes glowed. “Dante.”

Africus gave a frustrated yell. A heavy gust of wind slammed into them, knocking all three of them off their feet.

Dante struggled to hold onto the Tempest Wind and then heard Samia shout. He turned his head, and watched in horror as the wind picked her up, tumbling her over and over.

“Let her go.” He tightened his hold on Africus’ neck.

“Okay.” The man smiled.

Samia slammed into a wall and dropped to the ground, motionless.

“Samia!” Dante let Africus go and rushed to her. He turned her over, pulling her into his arms. Blood coated her hair.

“I will not fail this time.” Africus rose, his body fading into the wind. “I don’t care if you have an Aurae. You will join me or die, Warrior!”

Dante didn’t bother watching the wind escape. He kept his gaze on Samia, his heart was knocking hard in his chest. “Samia.”

She groaned. “Ouch.”

She was alive. He heaved out a breath and gently probed the wound at the back of her head.

“Ow! Who needs an evil wind when I have you jabbing at my injuries.” Her eyes fluttered open.

He held up his hand. “How many fingers?”

“Sixteen.”

“I think you’ll live.” He helped her sit up. Then he pressed a kiss to her lips. This one was slow and tender.

Dio, he was falling in love with her. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew he was tipping over the edge.

He’d never wanted love, thought it wasn’t possible for him. The duty of continuing the line of the Warriors of the Wind fell to the oldest. Luca would have the five sons to carry on the tradition. But Samia made Dante want things he’d never considered before.

How could he convince her to stay? She’d been used by the brotherhood her entire life and deserved to spread her wings. She deserved to discover what she liked, what she wanted, who she wanted.

“You okay?” Her hand curved around his jaw, worry in her bronze eyes. “How do you feel?”

He pushed his thoughts away. That was for later. “Calm, in control. Thanks to you.” His hands framed her face. “You are the bravest, most generous woman I’ve ever met.”

Heat crept into her cheeks. “You don’t know me that well.”

“I know the important things. You’re tough, intelligent, courageous. You grieved and felt guilt for the death of a boy you thought was innocent. And just now, you fought for a man you don’t know that well.”

She gave him a small smile. “I know the important things about you. You’re a man who’s suffered to control his power so he can protect everyone else. A man willing to sacrifice his life for others.”

Her words sobered him. “Africus is still free.” If Dante didn’t stop him, he and Samia had no future. Hell, the world had no future. “I have to stop him.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Are you going to give me the macho speech about having to do this alone?”

“No.” He stood and helped her up. “I’m going to say, ‘Samia, I would be honored to have you fight by my side. Let’s finish this.’”

She grinned. “I like that much better.”

***

“He hasn’t gone far.” Samia stared down the street.

“I know. I sense his taint.” Dante lifted his head and looked at her. “Do you trust me?”

She closer to him, returning his gaze steadily. “Yes.”

He tugged her to his chest and she felt the warm rush of his power on her skin. The South Wind swirled around them.

His body disintegrated, becoming the air. Samia’s did the same.

Oh, God. She gasped. It was the strangest sensation. Soon they were flying through the air, tracking Africus. She looked down at the lights of Rome spread out beneath them.

Being one with the wind, there was no sense of time or distance. They flowed and dipped on the air, hunting the Tempest Wind through the hidden places of the city. Past the ruined temples of old, past the modern buildings of the present.

Dante rematerialized them in the Campo de’ Fiori. The usually busy piazza was eerily silent. A dark wind swirled past the statue of the monk ahead.

“God.” Samia took a second to adjust to being solid again. Dante steadied her with one strong arm and she smiled at him. “That was exhilarating. We’re doing that again.”

He smiled back. “I’ve forgotten the wonder of riding the wind for the first time. It’s nice to relive it with you.”

She turned her face up to the statue. “Where’s Africus?”

“Right here, assassin.” Africus stalked out of the shadows.

Dante straightened. “It ends now.”

Dante lunged fast, but Africus dodged, avoiding the blow.

“You can still join me,” the Tempest Wind said. “Let the pride make you strong.”

“The pride’s gone, asshole.” Dante charged in. “You’re finished.”

Samia circled the men, watching Dante’s hard, brutal fighting style. The men’s winds battled as well in hard, vicious gusts.

Africus jabbed his knuckles into Dante’s side. As Dante doubled over, the Tempest Wind landed a hard chop to the back of his neck. Dante dropped down with a groan.

Samia jumped in, landing on Africus’ back. She pressed her knife to his throat. Before she could cut him, he spun, slamming her into the base of the statue. Pain reverberated through her, but she tightened her hold, gripping him tight.

He batted at her hand and her knife flew out, clattering on the ground.

“I’ll kill you, Aurae. Make him watch the life bleed out of your eyes.”

“You don’t scare me.” She got a fistful of his long hair and yanked his head back.

Then Dante reared up in front of them. He punched Africus in the gut. As the Tempest Wind doubled over, Samia pushed with her weight. He slammed face first into the ground.

Dante planted a knee in the man’s back beside hers, holding his struggling body down.

Golden-brown eyes met hers and he held a hand out. “I’d appreciate your help to end this.”

With a nod, she pressed her palm to his. His power rose up around them.

Dante looked down at Africus. “My brothers will prevail. Soon the Tempest Winds will be defeated and back in their prison.”

“I won’t go back!” Africus shook his head wildly. “I will not go back to the Keeper of the Winds.”

Dante’s wind twirled around them. Samia felt a tug inside her, like a part of her was feeding Dante’s wind, magnifying the power.

A great whirlwind built. It circled around them.

“No!” Africus screamed.

Dante sprang off Africus, pulling Samia with him. He jerked his arm and the vortex raced toward Africus.

The Tempest Wind’s scream echoed across the square as the wind swallowed him. His body disintegrated.

Dante’s wind rose into the air and then it streamed away, leaving the square in silence.

“It’s over,” Samia murmured.

“No.” Dante gripped her shoulders and pulled her to him. “It’s not over yet. My brothers still need to hunt the other Tempest Winds.” His face hardened. “They have to fight their own vices and beat their enemies.”

“They’ll be okay,” she said. “We’ll help them however we can.”

Such a generous soul inside her assassin’s body. He brushed some dark strands of hair off her face. “And it’s certainly not over for us. For us, my sweet assassin, it’s just beginning.”

She glanced down at his chest. “I don’t have much to offer. I only know how to kill.”

Dante shook his head, his finger sliding under her chin to force her gaze up. “You have a chance now to explore life. Don’t go back to the brotherhood, Samia. Experience life and all it has to offer.”

“Where would I go?” she murmured.

He tugged her closer. “Stay here. With me. I have no right to clip your wings, but I can show you wonderful things. I’ll show you my shipyards in Naples. I’ll take you out on my yacht on the weekends. We’ll learn to scuba dive.”

She laughed. It sounded wonderful. A life in the sun.

“I’d like to cook for you every day. Make love to you every day.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Let me take care of you?”

Her lips trembled. “No one’s ever taken care of me before.”

“Let me love you.”

Love? She hissed in a breath. “No one’s loved me before either.”

“I will. If you’ll have me.”

Chapter Eight

Dante felt a rush of nerves as he waited for Samia’s answer. He’d just faced down evil, but waiting for her response had him more nervous.

“I’ll have you, Dante Venti.”

Joy exploded in him, and he picked her up and spun her around. She laughed and it was a beautiful sound.

“Now, let me get started showing you how I’m going to take care of you.” He wrapped his power around them and carried them away on the breeze. Moments later, they materialized on the balcony of Luca’s apartment.

Samia’s face was flushed, and excitement shone in her eyes. He promised he’d take her flying on the wind every day just to see that look on her face.

He carried her inside, and in the bedroom, he set her down beside the bed.

He wanted to rush, wanted to feast on her, but this time he tried to be gentle. He slipped her clothes off, baring her beautiful body. He ran his hand over her, cupping her breasts, sliding along her limbs.

“Dante,” she whispered. Her hands slipped his shirt off, fingers running over his shoulders. Then she loosened his belt and soon they were both naked, hot skin pressed to hot skin.

He kissed her, their tongues tangling. The taste of her seeped into him. Now he would love her with no pride beating in the back of his head. Now they weren’t Warrior and assassin, they were just man and woman.

He’d wanted to keep things slow and easy, but the hungry noises she made, the way she rubbed her body against him had fire igniting in his veins. He quickly grabbed a condom, slid it on, and then he was lifting her and backing her against the wall. Her long legs wrapped around him and he watched the moonlight play over her face.

“You’re so beautiful, bella.”

“Hurry, Dante.” She arched against him. One of her hands delved between their bodies and cupped his cock.

Merda. His hips thrust forward, pain and pleasure shooting through him.

Then he grabbed her wrist and pulled it above her head, pinning it to the wall. “What do you want, Samia?”

“You. You!”

His cock nudged her slick folds and she cried out.

“Are you ready?” he ground out.

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

Dark eyes coated with desire met his. He surged into her with a flex of his hips.

She moaned, her hips moving to meet him. He drove into her with strong thrusts. “I’ll never let you go. I wanted to give you a choice, but please stay with me.”

“Yes.” Her once-sad eyes now only showed pleasure.

He thrust into her again. “Stay, fall in love with me, be my anchor, be my mate.”

“Yes, Dante. I’m yours.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, then slid down his back, nails scoring his skin. “And you’re mine.”

His woman. He’d spend a lifetime proving to her that she mattered to him. Feelings, bright and hot, rose inside him. He continued moving inside her, savoring her hot, tight body. He felt her body tensing, heard her husky cries getting sharper.

“Come, Samia.”

She arched into him, her nails digging in hard enough to hurt. He didn’t care. She cried out as she came, and he pressed his mouth to hers to swallow her screams.

He moved with fast, brutal thrusts and then a torrent of sensation slammed into him. He lifted his head and roared his release.

As Dante collapsed against her, pinning her to the wall, he felt all the pride inside him was gone. In its place, he was amazed to find the beginnings of love.

***

Hot water poured over Samia as she collapsed against the tiles. She blinked, wondering if her blurry vision was from steam or the strength of her latest orgasm.

Strong hands stroked over her, shaping her butt. Dante pressed a kiss to her shoulder. He’d carried her from the bed to the shower, and then ravished her again.

She moaned. “We survived a storm, but if we have more sex, we’ll kill each other.”

He nipped her shoulder now. “I’ll take care of you, bella.”

She loved the feel of his big body against her. She was falling in love with him.

Oh, God. How could she be falling in love so fast?

Dante’s hands gripped her jaw, turning her head. She saw a storm of emotion in his amber eyes and she smiled. He would stand by her, give her the closeness and love she craved. He would help her leave the Hashshasin behind and discover all the things life had to offer.

“I think I’m falling for you.” The words tumbled out of her.

His smile looked very satisfied. “Good, because I’m definitely falling in love with you, Samia Hassan. I hope you’ll let me.”

Mesmerized by his eyes, her chest swelled. “I’ll do everything I can to make it a fast trip.”

He pulled her closer. “For both of us.”

He kissed her, his groan mixing with her moan.

Suddenly, the shower door wrenched open. Samia gasped and Dante moved to shield her with his body.

She stared over his shoulder at a man who looked very similar to Dante. A little leaner, and impossibly, a face that was even more handsome. His eyes were a deep green.

“Antonio!” Dante yelled. “What the fuck?”

“Luca thought you needed help.” Antonio averted his gaze. “I heard noises and thought you were…in trouble. We sensed when you banished Africus, but Luca couldn’t get in touch with you.”

Dante cursed. “I’m sorry. I was so absorbed in…” He looked down at her with a wry smile.

“Luca left me a message about you struggling with Africus, and that you had an assassin after you.”

“That would be me,” Samia said.

As Antonio started to turn back, Dante shoved at his brother. “Eyes forward, mio fratello. Give us a minute and we’ll be out.”

“Don’t get dressed on my account,” Antonio said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Out,” Dante ordered with a growl. He snatched up a towel and handed it to Samia.

She tried not to laugh at the situation. Once they were dressed, they found Antonio standing in the living room, by the windows.

Something about the set of his lean body made him look incredibly lonely. When he turned to look at them, Samia saw the lines bracketing his mouth. Her heart lurched. The strain was etched there and so easy to see.

Dante moved forward and hugged his brother. “How are you doing?”

“Hanging in there.”

Antonio was dressed in a dark suit, his white shirt open at the throat. She remembered reading about Dante’s brothers. If she recalled correctly, Antonio Venti ran a museum in Florence. And loved art almost as much as he loved women.

“You don’t need to pretend with me,” Dante said.

Antonio scraped a hand through his dark hair. “Corus is far more calculating and cunning than before.”

“Africus was the same.”

Antonio’s gaze moved past Dante to Samia. “But you defeated him.”

“I had help.” Dante grabbed Samia’s hand and pulled her closer. “Samia, this my brother, Antonio. Antonio, Samia Hassan.”

Antonio moved forward and took Samia’s other hand. He bent over it, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. “A pleasure, Samia.”

Oh yes, a born charmer, this one. “Are all your brothers this good-looking, Dante?”

Antonio looked up and grinned, and she guessed this was a glimpse of the real Antonio shining through the strain. “I’m the best looking.”

Dante yanked her into his side and slung an arm across her shoulders. “Mine.”

Antonio smiled. “I see that.”

“We think Samia has Aurae heritage. And she also happens to be a badass assassin who is very good with knives.”

She smiled up at him. “Hey, I only stabbed you once.”

“She is also mine and I’m never giving her up.”

Warmth filled her chest.

Antonio slapped his brother on the back. “I am very happy for you, Dante.” His gaze changed, something rippling over his face. “It must be nice to find the right woman.” Then he forced a smile. “Although, I prefer to enjoy a wide variety of feminine delights, myself.”

Dante snorted.

Antonio turned to Samia. “Samia, if you ever realize you picked the wrong brother, give me a call.”

Dante mock-scowled at his brother.

Then Antonio’s smile dissolved. “I am glad you’re both okay. I need to get back to Florence. Back to hunting Corus.”

“Can we help?” Samia asked.

“I wish you could.” A hard look appeared on his face, the handsome charmer gone. This was the Warrior of the West Wind. “I will find Corus. And I will stop him.”

They all stepped out onto the balcony. A cool morning breeze rippled over them, the sun just beginning to rise.

“Be careful, Antonio.” Dante hugged his brother, slapping him on the back.

“I will.” His green gaze moved over Dante and Samia. “Enjoy your beautiful woman.”

“I already am.”

Dante and Samia watched as his brother turned into the wind and streamed away.

Samia leaned into him. “You’re worried.”

“He’s not himself, Samia. He’s the most laid back of us all and he’s tense, strained.”

She wrapped her arms around him, offering quiet support. He pressed his face to her hair and breathed deep.

“I’m here, Dante, whatever you need.”

“My brothers will find the rest of the Tempest Winds. They are strong, unrelenting.”

She had no doubt. And selfless and brave, just like her warrior. “Maybe there are other Aurae out there?”

Hope ignited in his eyes. “Aurae descendants who can help them. I hope so.”

He pulled her close, his hands smoothing up and down her back. She leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest. She heard the steady beat of his heart.

A heart that now belonged to her.

She smiled. The Warriors of the Wind would continue to fight and protect. And now she had a new life. From now on, there would be no more death for her. With Dante by her side, there was only life and love.

---

I hope you enjoyed Dante and Samia’s story!

The stories of the Warriors of the Wind were some of the first stories I ever wrote and published. I wanted to mix action, mythology, and romance into sexy, short reads. I am so excited to have the chance to give them a little polish and release them again.

Read on for Antonio’s story, Seduction, set in the twisting streets of Florence.

Seduction

Anna Hackett

In the time of gods and magic, the monstrous god Typhon created violent winds—the Tempest Winds—to aid in his battle to rule the cosmos. The Tempest Winds wreaked havoc against man, and carried the dark vices of lust, greed, pride, and anger.

To save the world, the King of the Gods, Jupiter, gifted control of the cardinal winds to man. Five brothers became the Warriors of the Wind, and their sons and grandsons after them. Now, even in the modern age of technology, they are the only thing protecting mankind from this centuries-old evil.

Chapter One

He was naked and chained to a wall.

Antonio Favonius Venti shook off the fog clouding his head and yanked on his arms. Cazzo. Where the hell was he? The silver chains wrapped around his wrists rattled, but held him firm.

Dio. The restraints had been designed for a supernatural being with superior strength. And that included him.

He shook his aching head, trying to remember what had happened. He’d left a party at the museum, and then headed out to hunt his enemy. He lifted his head and eyed his prison. It was a damn elegant one. The bedroom was decorated in an ornate style—silver and black wallpaper and an elaborate four-poster bed with red covers.

Memories poured in. Chasing Corus through the twisting streets of Florence. The Northwest wind was a cunning bastardo. For the last few weeks, he’d eluded Antonio while infecting the people of Florence with the vice of lust.

Antonio sagged in the chains, his chin touching his chest. The rise in sexual assaults alone… His throat tightened. He had to stop Corus. It was his duty as a Warrior of the Wind.

He’d cornered Corus in the Piazza della Signoria. The Tempest Wind had been raping a woman. Oh, she’d appeared to be enjoying it, but Corus had the power to make people want things they didn’t truly desire. Antonio’s fingers curled into fists. He knew that all too well.

He’d ripped Corus off the woman, but high on lust, Corus had caught Antonio with a huge gust of wind and knocked him out.

Now Antonio was trapped.

But not for much longer, dammit. He summoned his wind.

Air swirled around him, the West Wind filling the room. It was familiar, carrying the brisk scent of ocean from the Atlantic, and the warmth and promise of the spring.

Like his brothers, like their father and grandfather before them, he was a Warrior of the Wind and he existed to hunt the evil Tempest Winds.

The chains rattled and Antonio pushed with all his strength. His power swelled inside him and he felt the metal give. An inch. Two. He thrust with everything he had.

Nothing. They wouldn’t budge any farther. Cursing, he cut his power and the wind died away.

Before he could regroup, the door opened.

The man who stepped inside gave Antonio the eerie feeling of staring in the mirror. Strong jaw, straight nose, and a muscled frame. But his dark, curly hair was longer than Antonio’s, and instead of green eyes, this man’s were black, soulless pits.

As the man stepped forward, the atmosphere in the room grew warmer. A lazy push of air curled around Antonio, carrying the scent of sex. Two women stepped in behind the man. They wore very little—only wispy scraps of black lace. The blonde had a long winsome body with slim legs and small, high breasts. The redhead had the lush curves of an artist’s muse. Antonio smelled warm female flesh and arousal.

He swallowed hard and spat out the man’s name. “Corus.”

Corus smiled, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. “Such venom, Antonio. You should think of me as a friend. We’re the same, you and I.”

“We’re nothing alike.” Antonio jerked against his bindings. It was the truth. He had to believe it.

Corus stalked closer. “Our winds both carry lust. I embrace it.” He reached for the blonde and cupped one of her breasts. She arched into him with a purr. “And you want to embrace it.”

Antonio’s chest heaved. Since the Tempest Winds had escaped from his brother, Lorenzo, the Keeper of the Winds, they’d started spreading their vices. Antonio had been inundated with the heat of lust. His wind carried the promise of new life, and that made him more susceptible to Corus.

For almost three weeks, his skin had been tight and hot, his gut churning with the need for release, his cock semi hard all day long. He was balanced on the edge of giving into the seductive vice. “I fight it. I’ll always fight it.”

“Why not give in?” Corus ran a finger over Antonio’s shoulder. “It’ll make you stronger. You won’t have the agony of battling your desires. Slake the lust, Antonio. It feels so good.”

Antonio tore his gaze away from the Tempest Wind. He stared at the silver swirls on the wallpaper, but Corus’ words dug under his skin. Antonio wanted, he craved. He yearned for sweet, feminine skin. To press his lips between a woman’s fragrant thighs and feast. To bury his cock in tight, wet warmth.

Dammit, control yourself. Air sawed in and out of his lungs. He heard the taunting whispers in his ear, carried by Corus’ wind. Every hour of every day since the Tempest Winds had escaped, those whispers had been tormenting him.

And if he gave in…then Corus won. Antonio would turn as rotten as Corus and lust would infect Florence, then Italy, then Europe. The tourists would carry it around the world like a virus and the entire planet would descend into lust-fueled chaos.

The redhead slinked closer, like a hungry lioness, her green gaze locked on him. He tensed.

She ran a long red nail down the center of his bare chest.

“Why not let them take care of you?” Corus’ tone lowered. “Katya has a mouth from heaven and Nadine loves to fuck. Any hole, any position, any time.”

Antonio gritted his teeth. The woman fingered the hard ridges of his stomach and dammit, her touch felt good.

He couldn’t succumb. Not for an all-too-brief moment of pleasure. “Africus has already been defeated in Rome.” Antonio pulled strength from the fact his brother, Dante, had already defeated his Tempest Wind. “I will banish you. I swear.”

As the woman grasped Antonio’s hardening cock, he closed his eyes and swallowed a groan. His thoughts went to the one person he wished was touching him like this.

Luscious curves, a foxy face with a stubborn chin, large blue eyes and a full mouth a little too wide for true beauty. His forbidden temptation.

A woman with a passionate love for art that rivaled his own and a brilliant skill at restoring damaged paintings. A woman who’d made it very clear when she’d arrived from the US three months ago to work at his museum that she had no interest in men—especially wealthy, privileged men. A woman who wanted to uncover secrets Antonio didn’t want revealed.

Still, the thought of her and her fresh, floral scent was enough for him to regain a tiny scrap of control. He kicked out and caught Corus. The man stumbled sideways, knocking the redhead away from Antonio.

Corus righted himself and sighed. He grabbed a handful of Antonio’s hair and yanked his head up. “I will break you, Warrior.” The friendly tone was gone, replaced with a cold, dark voice. “And I think I know just the thing to do it.”

He spun and barked at the women. Abruptly, the trio left, the door slamming shut behind them.

Antonio sagged, letting the chains take his weight. He welcomed the sharp pain as they dug into his wrists. His skin felt sensitized, the blood in his veins hot and pounding. The air was saturated with lust, and filled with whispers. Touch yourself, work your cock, find sweet release.

He was at the very edge of his control.

The door opened again and he tensed.

A large man backed in carrying something in his arms. He didn’t look at Antonio, just dumped his cargo on the blood-red covers and left.

Antonio stared. Every muscle in his body tightened, so hard it was painful. His gaze traced the naked curves of the unconscious woman’s body. Slim limbs, curvy hips, beautiful full breasts topped with cherry-pink nipples. Her dark hair fell over her face, hiding her features.

Oh, no. He didn’t need to see her face. Her scent teased him. Like a spring meadow in full bloom.

The newest employee at Museo Venti—Dr. Sophia Crane.

Corus had just locked Antonio naked in a room with his greatest temptation.

***

Sophia came to and blinked, focusing on the red canopy above the bed. Canopy?

She sat up, her hands twisting in the bedcovers. Where in God’s name was she? And why the hell was she naked?

She yanked the cover up over her body, the silky satin sliding against her skin. A knot lodged in her throat. She’d been at the museum, poring over some old manuscripts on the legends of the Warriors of the Wind. She’d heard a noise and then…nothing but a big void.

Shifting, the satin cool and slippery beneath her, she scanned the room.

And saw the man.

The naked man.

Oh, my God. He was chained to the wall and powerfully built, with hard muscles on a lean frame. Wide shoulders narrowed down to trim hips and a six-pack stomach. Helpless to stop herself, her gaze drifted down. A long, thick cock arched upward. She jerked her gaze up and froze.

Familiar deep-green eyes watched her. Her boss. Antonio Venti.

She gripped the covers harder. “Antonio?”

He licked his lips, like his mouth was dry. “Are you okay?”

His low, husky voice shivered through her. He had a face ripped from the walls of the museum he owned. A modern-day renaissance lord. A hawkish nose, full lips and green eyes that made her think of her favorite Verona green paint. The man was outrageously handsome and wealthy, and was one of Italy’s most eligible bachelors.

“Sophia? Did he hurt you?”

She blinked. “I don’t know what happened or how I got here, but I don’t think I’m hurt.” She had no aches or pains. “He? Who did this?”

Antonio scowled. “His name is Corus.” Antonio shifted and the clank of metal drew her attention to the chains.

God, he was chained like an animal. She slid her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, her knees dangerously wobbly. She made sure the cover was wrapped around her frame. “Corus?” She frowned. “That name sounds familiar.” It scraped at some distant memory.

“He’s my enemy.”

Antonio’s hard tone sent a rash of goosebumps over her skin. She moved toward him. “Why am I here?”

He drew in a deep breath. “I think you know why. Even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

She jerked to a halt. Oh, she knew what he was talking about. But she’d come to Italy for a new beginning, for her career. Not to repeat her past mistakes.

A year ago, she’d lost everything. Her perfect life had shattered with terrible consequences. Even now her heart spasmed and she pressed a hand to her flat belly. After three months in Florence, she was finally starting to feel alive again.

She was excruciatingly aware of Antonio Venti and the charged attraction between them. But she couldn’t risk her heart again. It still wasn’t whole. And Antonio reminded her too much of James.

All she had, all she cared about, was her art. And her dream of finding out the truth about the Warriors of the Wind. “I came to Florence for a fresh start. That’s it.”

“I don’t know what you’re running from, Sophia, but you can’t have a fresh start if the past still haunts you.”

His words were like an arrow to her chest. “You’d know.”

His frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve watched you.” Even when she knew she shouldn’t. But something about him, something hauntingly familiar, made him far too fascinating. “You do everything you can to let people think you’re a playboy without a care in the world. The wealthy billionaire who attends all the hottest parties.”

“That is me.”

“I’ve seen the man who works hard to source, buy, and care for the priceless art in his museum. The man who organizes for underprivileged kids to come and tour the museum.”

She saw his jaw tighten.

“And the last few weeks, I can see the strain you’re under. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I can tell it’s bad. It’s this Corus, isn’t it?”

They stared at each other. The room silent except for their breathing.

She hitched up the sheet and took a step forward. “Look, we need to get out of here. Report this Corus to the polizia.”

Antonio snorted. “The police can’t help. It’s my duty to deal with him.”

That sounded a little too mafia-like for Sophia, but her first priority was getting out of here. Wherever “here” was.

As she reached for the chains, Antonio went rigid. “Stop!”

She stilled, searching the room for any danger. Nothing. Except for a light breeze that twirled around her, ruffling the sheet. The temperature rose, like someone had flicked on a heater.

“Don’t come any closer.” Antonio pressed his palms flat to the wall. “I want you to go. Find a way out.”

“I’m not leaving you.” She frowned. Her skin felt flushed, her face warm.

“Just go, per favore.”

The breeze increased. Where was it coming from? The windows were closed and covered with thick curtains. The light wind ruffled her hair and brought her Antonio’s scent.

God, she loved his cologne. It had driven her crazy from her first day at Museo Venti. He’d lean over her shoulder to see what she was working on and that dark, spicy scent would tease her. Now it was mixed with hot male and it made desire ignite low inside her.

She let herself look at him. Who knew his perfect Armani suits had hidden so much hard muscle? She shifted her thighs restlessly. She noted the sheen of perspiration on his skin, the way his muscles strained.

Did he feel it too? This crazy, insane urge to throw caution to the wind and touch each other? She wanted to touch his skin, explore that powerful, masculine body.

She reached out. Not to undo the chains, but to smooth one hand up his hard chest. Oh God, he felt good.

Antonio groaned. “No, Sophia. You have to get out.”

Sophia leaned closer, fighting the urge to sink her teeth into his shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

Chapter Two

Antonio was in hell.

An enticing, seductive hell.

Sophia’s hands moved over his chest, her short nails scraping over his nipples. He groaned. Her fingers weren’t soft but lightly callused from her work with a brush. He found it sexy as hell. He wanted to feel her touch on other parts of his body.

From the first moment he’d seen her, hunched over a painting, absorbed in bringing it back to life, he’d wanted her. Hungered for her to look at him with the same captivation.

Now she was touching him, and making small noises in the back of her throat as she explored him.

But it wasn’t real.

Her fingers skimmed over his belly, making his muscles tighten so hard it hurt. Cazzo. Her hand traced the same path the redhead’s had taken, but now the sensations were a hundred times stronger. Brutal arousal stormed through him.

The air was saturated with lust. Wherever they were, Corus was keeping the place bathed in his vice. Enticing. Taunting. Seducing.

“Sophia. Stop.” A tortured groan ripped from him.

Her finger dipped into his navel and he jerked. Her other hand slid into his hair, rubbing the strands between her fingers.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for weeks.” She ran her fingers through his curls. “I’ve seen you with those statuesque models you like to date. A different one every week.” Blue eyes, a little cloudy and unfocused, caught his. “I hate them. I wonder if you touch them, kiss them…”

Dio. He couldn’t hold back his words. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you stepped into my museum.”

Her hand froze. “Really?”

“Si.” The truth tumbled from him, even as his mind screamed at him to stay silent. “I dream of kissing you. Touching you. At work, I want to back you into a dark corner and slide my hands under those tight, sexy work skirts you wear.”

“Antonio.”

He knew lust. But he also sensed something else in his need for Sophia. “Even the way you love your work—your intense concentration and your patience—turns me on.”

Every night he hunted Corus, and whenever Antonio stole a few moments to rest, he woke in a cold sweat. Afraid that with every hour that passed, all he had inside him was lust. But Sophia made him believe he had more in him than that.

She made a small sound. “I told myself to stay away from you.” Her lips skimmed his jaw, hovered over his mouth. “I can’t seem to remember why.”

Merda, his hands were shaking. This was wrong. No matter how much he wanted it, he had to remember that it wasn’t real. This had the taint of Corus stamped all over it.

“No, Sophia. This can’t happen.”

“Why?” Her warm breath feathered over his lips.

The sheet slipped and fell away. He groaned. She was so damn beautiful, and when she moved closer, her bare breasts rubbed his chest. The touch of her skin on his was electrifying. His cock filled even more, throbbing.

Her hands curled around his biceps. “I haven’t felt like this for so long…maybe ever.”

Such grief under her words. It made him want to find the bastard who’d sent her fleeing from Washington D.C. She rubbed against him and Antonio gritted his teeth.

Not real. Not real. Not real.

But when her lips met his, his control broke. He kissed her with the full force of his desire. He forced her full lips open, sliding his tongue inside. She moaned, her hands gripping him, her tongue dancing with his. She tasted so good and felt so right.

Not real. Antonio didn’t want her like this. Clouded by Corus’ twisted desires. He broke the kiss, his lungs burning. “This isn’t real.”

She jerked back, the color leaching from her face. “I’ve heard that before. Am I just a little fantasy before you tell me you’re married and go back to your wife?” She snatched up the sheet and wrapped it around her body.

Merda. Antonio closed his eyes. He hated hurting her. What idiot would throw a woman like Sophia aside? “I’m not married. I’m sorry—”

She shook her head. Her eyes were clearing, returning to their usual bright blue. “Wealthy, handsome men are used to taking what they want, when they want it. I get it.”

Antonio opened his mouth to say something, but was he really any different from the man who’d obviously hurt her? He enjoyed women and all their smells, smiles, and offerings. He never stayed with a woman long. He pleasured them, took his own pleasure, but never promised more. But one difference was that he never lied to them.

From deep inside, he dredged up the last shred of his control. “We’re being manipulated by Corus to feel this way.”

Her brow knitted for a moment, then her eyes widened. “I remember that name now. It was in my research.” Her gaze crashed into his. “Corus is the name of one of the Tempest Winds.”

Antonio could see the wheels turning in her head. Sophia was smart and he knew it wouldn’t take her long to put it all together. “You need to go. Get out and call my brothers.”

“Corus is the Keeper of the Northwest wind—” she looked around the room, then down at her sheet-covered body “—and the vice of lust.”

“I’m not talking about myths and legends.” Antonio needed her far away from Corus. “Corus is dangerous and you need to get away.”

She shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not leaving you here.” She reached up, wrapping both hands around the anchor point of the chain. She paused, her eyes inches from his. “And I want answers from you after we get out of here.”

His jaw tightened and he stayed silent.

She yanked on the chains. They didn’t move.

Muttering under her breath, she started searching the room. Antonio’s gaze followed her, tracing her slender neck, her flushed cheeks, and the wrap of satin over her curves. The smolder of desire in him flamed again. Damn, he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin.

She turned back, a huge smile on her face. “These were hanging by the door.” She rattled the keys in her hands.

She stepped in close to him, her gaze sliding over his chest. His cock brushed her hip. He groaned and heard her quick intake of breath. He smelled the tantalizing scent of her arousal.

The chains fell away from his left arm and he flexed his aching muscles. When she reached for the other chain, he gripped her wrist.

She stilled.

Her bones were so delicate under his fingers. He pulled in a shuddering breath. “If you undo that chain, I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe from me.”

***

Sophia was caught in the intense green stare that seemed to look all the way through her.

For the first time, she admitted to herself that she liked more about Antonio Venti than just his perfect face and mouthwatering body. Every conversation, every argument about renaissance history, every discussion about restoring a piece of art was stimulating.

She pulled in a tiny breath. It was about time she was honest with herself.

She’d let James really work her over when he’d lied to her and destroyed her trust. She studied Antonio’s face. She didn’t understand this situation, but she knew in her marrow that if Antonio hadn’t stopped her right now, they’d be having sex. Instead, he’d held back.

“I trust you.” She reached up and unlocked the last chain. It clattered against the floor.

His hand whipped up and gripped her jaw. God, his skin was burning hot. He tilted her head back and Sophia’s breath stuck in her chest.

His mouth stopped short of touching hers. “I will do everything I can to live up to that trust.” His fingers tightened on her skin, then he pulled away. “Let’s find some clothes and get out of here.”

As he walked to the door, she watched the flex of solid muscle in his back and amazing ass. She swallowed and looked to the ceiling. Focus, Sophia.

He tried the door. No surprise, it was locked. He gripped the silver handle and yanked. The entire door ripped off the frame.

Her eyes widened. She studied the ruined wood as he set it aside. It was solid. It should have been impossible for him to do what he’d just done. Her belly tightened. She knew Antonio was much, much more than he seemed.

“I really want those answers,” she said.

He stepped out of the room. “It’s best if you don’t know.”

Sophia followed, ready to argue. He stopped so suddenly that she ran into his back.

“Dio.” His tone was dark. “They’re all infected.”

Dread curdling in her belly, she stepped to the side. Her mouth dropped open.

They were in some kind of club. It was decorated in the same style as the bedroom—black and silver with red accents. Decadent.

Along one wall, naked men and women were chained in various poses. Some were being spanked, others whipped, others…performing.

The center of the room was a mass of heaving bodies. All of them naked. Sophia didn’t know where to look. She wasn’t a prude and she liked sex, but this orgy was beyond her experience.

Her gaze settled on a trio near them. The woman was on her hands and knees while a large man thrust into her from behind. Sophia watched the flex of his buttocks and the way the woman rocked forward and back on the large cock of the man in front of her.

The air in the room was hot, humid. Desire flared in her belly and far too easily the image of Antonio pushing her onto her hands and knees snuck into her head. She shifted, very aware of the dampness between her thighs.

“Here.” Antonio thrust some clothes at her.

Sophia reluctantly dropped the sheet and tugged on the tiny skirt and thin shirt. Oh God, she looked like a prostitute.

Antonio had found some black leather pants for himself. Oh. Her heart stuttered. With the combination of his bare chest and slick, tight leather, he looked like some sort of dark avenging rock god.

He grabbed her hand and led her around the writhing throng. There was a door on the opposite wall. Thank God, a way out.

She tried not to look at the people around them, but everywhere she turned, naked limbs and bobbing cocks and breasts taunted her. They passed one woman caught between two men, her head thrust back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a soundless cry of pleasure.

For a single bright, shining moment, Sophia envied the woman. Sophia’s relationship with James had started out passionately, but had quickly turned into something best described as comfortable. She’d been okay with that because she’d loved him. Or at least the man she’d thought he was.

She looked at Antonio. She knew there’d be nothing comfortable or tepid about his loving.

Antonio pushed open the door and waved her into a hallway. It was a few degrees cooler and the scent of sex was dulled. She breathed deeply, enjoying the fresher air.

But there was no time to stop. With one hand on her shoulder, Antonio pushed her down the hall. “There has to be an exit somewhere.”

A woman’s scream echoed off the walls and they both froze. This sound had nothing to do with pleasure.

Antonio grabbed Sophia’s hand and broke into a sprint. She struggled to keep up with his long strides, but was more than happy to put some distance between them and the orgy room.

They turned a corner and ahead, she saw two men had a woman cornered. The tiny brunette wore a simple white shirt and black skirt. She clutched an empty tray in front of her like a shield.

The men moved in. One ripped her shirt open, sending buttons all over the floor. The other man grabbed her and shoved her against the wall.

“Merda.” Antonio stepped in front of Sophia. “Stay back.”

He strode forward, determination in the rigid set of his shoulders. He tore one man away from the woman, tossing him down the hall. He followed and slammed a fist into the man’s face. The attacker fell, skidding along the floor.

The second man growled and rammed into Antonio, momentum sending them crashing into the wall. Antonio shrugged the man off and pushed him back.

Both men rose, shoulder to shoulder. Aggression pumped off them and filled the hall, thick and dark and almost tangible. Sophia’s belly hardened.

“We would have shared,” one man said, his gaze on the woman who was scrambling backward, her body shaking.

“But you didn’t ask nicely,” the other man growled. He flicked a glance at Sophia, lust burning in his brown eyes. “Now we’re going to take your pretty morsel, too.”

The men rushed forward like linebackers.

Sophia stifled the scream welling in her throat. Antonio lunged to the side. He pressed one foot to the wall and used it for leverage to leap into the air.

His roundhouse kick slammed one man into the wall. He slumped down and didn’t get back up.

The other man ran.

At Sophia.

There was nowhere to go. She braced herself, her heart pounding. She lifted her hands, ready to defend herself. This was going to hurt.

“No!” Antonio yelled.

A strong wind rushed through the hall, whipping Sophia’s hair into her eyes. One huge gust caught the man and shoved him several feet back down the hallway. He slammed into the wall beside his friend, knocking a painting off the wall with a crash. He fell to the floor, hitting his head with a thud.

Sophia lifted her gaze. Antonio stood with his legs spread shoulder-width apart and his palms out. Their gazes clashed. Slowly, he lowered his arms to his sides.

She counted the rapid thuds of her heartbeat. Okay, she’d suspected, but seeing the reality, seeing his power…it left her breathless and just a little afraid.

She swallowed past the knot in her throat. “You’re a Warrior of the Wind.”

Chapter Three

Antonio stared into Sophia’s wide blue eyes and felt…stripped. He wondered what she thought of him now, and if she could see through to the rot staining his soul.

A small cry beside him had him turning his head. The woman he’d rescued was huddled against the wall, her eyes blank with shock.

He kept his voice gentle, and crouched. “Stai bene?”

She gave him a shaky nod. “Grazie.”

“Go home now.” He helped her up.

After another nod, the woman ran down the hall, her footsteps echoing off the walls.

Antonio swung back to Sophia. “You should do the same. Leave Florence and go back to America.”

Sophia ran her hands up and down her arms. “I saw you control the wind. You’re a living legend.”

“You need to forget what you saw.”

She gave a short laugh. “How can I forget any of this?” She shook her head. “I came here for my career, but also to find out the truth about the Warriors of the Wind. I’ve been obsessed since I was a little girl.”

He heaved out a breath. “Why?”

“My parents brought me to Florence when I was a child. I saw a man use the wind to spray water out of a fountain over five young boys…” She broke off, her mouth dropping open. “It was you. Your brothers, your father. One of the boys saw me, and he winked at me.”

Dio. Antonio remembered. A hot, sunny summer’s day at the Fontana del Nettuno. He was the boy who’d winked at the pretty young girl with pigtails and big blue eyes.

“Antonio, from that day, I’ve believed there was a seed of truth in every legend. It fueled my interest in art and art history.” She gave a little laugh. “Guess I found the seed.”

Antonio grabbed her arms, smoothing his palms over her chilled skin. “I’m a man, Sophia, not a legend. I have flaws, weaknesses.” He could see she still looked a little shocked and dazed as she absorbed the news. His gaze zoomed in on the pulse pounding under the fine skin at her temple. “I have wants and desires.”

“What’s your wind, Antonio?”

“The West Wind.” Unable to stop himself, he touched a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. It was so silky. “And like Corus, my wind also carries lust.”

She pulled back with a sharp breath. “What? But you hunt the Tempest Winds—”

“All the winds carry vices. The Tempest Winds choose to embrace them.”

She went still. “And you resist.”

“I try.” Every hour of every day. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She moved into step beside him. “It affects you? The lust?”

He gave her a tight nod. “I’m more susceptible. Corus will try to break me.” He glanced sideways. “And he knows me better than I’d like.”

Bang.

They both spun, Antonio pushing her behind him. Ahead, at the end of the hall, a set of ornate double doors had slammed open.

A harsh wind swept through the hall, ripping at their hair and borrowed clothes. It scratched over their skin.

Antonio’s jaw tightened. He had to end this.

He pointed in the opposite direction. “Find a way out.” When she nodded, he turned back, preparing for what he was about to face.

A hand gripped his arm. “Antonio?”

He held his breath and Sophia stepped in front of him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Be careful.”

He wanted to kiss her, but it was a temptation he couldn’t afford. With a nod, he turned away, battling to put her out of his head and focus on the fight ahead. But that small touch burned into him, warming the cold places inside him.

It gave him the strength he needed to face his nemesis.

Antonio stepped into the large ballroom. It was decorated in a traditional style, very different from the dark decadence of the orgy room. Windows cast morning light across the parquet floor. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling and gilt-framed mirrors ran along the opposing wall.

All showcasing Corus’ reflection.

The Tempest Wind stood in the center of the room. His dark hair was brushed back, highlighting the planes of his face and the empty darkness of his eyes. His lips quirked. “Nice outfit.”

“I’m done talking, Corus.”

Suddenly, Corus smiled. A blinding show of teeth. “She’s so pretty. So delicious.” He shot a charming smile over Antonio’s shoulder. “You have excellent taste. I can’t wait to sample her.”

Antonio felt Corus’ wind, heard stumbling steps and a feminine gasp. Sophia tumbled to the ground beside him.

Gritting his teeth, he stooped and helped her up. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get very far. His wind caught me—”

“I’m so glad you could join us, Sophia.” Corus took a few steps closer, his voice smooth and seductive.

Antonio thrust out an arm. “Leave her alone. This fight is between us.”

Corus ignored him, focusing completely on Sophia. “I am Corus, darling.” He held out a hand. “Why don’t you join me?”

The Tempest Wind’s voice drifted in the air like a lovely song. Antonio watched as Sophia’s jaw slackened, her eyes glazing over. She took a step forward.

Antonio slapped a hand against her chest. She blinked.

“You will not touch her,” he ground out between his teeth.

Corus’ smile widened into something nasty. “Stop me.”

A wily breeze twirled through the air. It fluttered through Sophia’s hair and trailed over her clothes. Her mouth dropped open and she slapped a hand over her chest. “It’s…touching me.” She turned to Antonio, her eyes wide and horrified.

He yanked her to his chest. “Damn you, Corus.”

The groping wind died away. Sophia clutched at Antonio, her body shaking. He saw Corus wink at her and she turned her face away. Antonio ran a hand over the curve of her waist and hip before pushing her behind him.

Antonio lifted his hands. The West Wind blew up—strong, powerful, filled with purpose. He thrust his palms outward.

Corus lifted his hands in reply, meeting the West Wind with his own. A dull roar filled the room as the winds battled.

The windows blew out with a deadly shatter of glass. It swirled into the wind and Antonio felt it pepper his skin.

He also heard the whispers growing. Take the woman. She wants you. Make her yours.

He shoved harder and when Corus stumbled back, Antonio smiled a grim smile.

Slake your desire. Lust will make you stronger. Take your pleasure.

Now he lost his footing. As the whispers multiplied, he couldn’t think. The wind around him turned hotter, and perspiration spread over his skin.

And desire curled in his gut—hot and demanding.

Can’t…give…up. His muscles strained and he went down on one knee. He pushed everything he had into his wind. He couldn’t let Corus win. He had to protect Sophia.

But the Tempest Wind was strong, bloated with lust, and empowered by Antonio’s own weakness. Corus dematerialized, his body turning into the wind itself, whipping it into a higher frenzy.

Antonio’s power was leaking away along with the last tatters of his control. He threw his head back, straining. He had to keep Sophia safe.

But slowly, he felt his power beaten back by the Northwest wind. The ugly whispers grew louder, more seductive, to the point that Antonio felt he was losing his mind.

He roared into the wind.

He’d failed.

***

Sophia pushed against the wind. It was so…strong. Her bare feet skidded on the floor. The few feet between her and Antonio seemed like miles.

She had to reach him.

Through the swirling whirlwind, she saw him on his knees, his head thrown back in anguish.

He was losing the fight.

Something hit her head with a glancing blow. She ignored it and kept moving.

But the wind was far too strong. She could no longer see Corus, but she knew he was there. She felt his presence like an oily sludge on her skin. She dropped to the ground.

On her hands and knees, she crawled closer. Almost there. Then she saw Antonio’s face.

Her belly cramped. The veins in his neck stood out, and his eyes were closed, his face caught in a grimace.

“Antonio!” The wind snatched her scream away.

But his eyes snapped open and his gaze locked onto her.

Oh, God. His irises were still green, but now they glinted with a red edge. Like he was possessed.

“You should have left.” He slammed his palms against the floor. “Go!”

Fear was acid in Sophia’s veins, but screw it. She wasn’t going to let Corus have Antonio. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his arm. His skin was so hot it felt like it was burning her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His words were a tortured plea.

“You won’t. Let me help you.” She wasn’t sure why she was so certain she could help him, but the feeling welled up from deep inside her. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around him.

“Sophia.”

Going on instinct, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He went still for a second, then he groaned and his arms wrapped around her like bands of iron. He pulled her closer, one hand moving to tangle in her hair.

God, the man could kiss. Shocking sensation crashed through Sophia. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she returned the kiss, every urgent stroke. He tasted so good, and nothing had ever felt this right.

The wind still howled, circling around them, shutting them in their own little world.

Antonio’s hand slid down her side, and she pressed her hands into his hard shoulders, smoothing over tense muscles. She thought she felt him relax, just a fraction.

His palms circled her waist and he pulled her closer. Her thin shirt wasn’t much of a barrier and her breasts rubbed against his bare chest, her nipples tightening to hard buds. She made a husky sound in her throat. The wind still spun around them in a dangerous vortex, but in his arms, she felt a strange sense of calm. As though they were in the eye of the storm.

She felt Antonio’s hard erection against her hip and heat arrowed between her legs. He took her mouth again, his hands sliding up under her shirt to cup her breasts.

He slid his mouth down her throat, his tongue lapping at the rapid beat of her pulse. She pressed into him, shocked at the cries that ripped from her throat. He nipped at her shoulder and now his busy hands moved downward, sliding under the tiny skirt, fingers brushing along her thighs.

She tried to say something, but desire made her throat tight.

His hands tightened on her upper thighs, so hard his fingers dug into her skin. She flinched.

He jerked back. “Sophia.”

“I’m fine.” She saw that eerie red in his eyes deepening and she cupped his cheeks. “We have to stop Corus and get out of here. Together.” She rubbed her fingers over the night’s worth of dark stubble on his cheeks. “You can do this.”

Something swirled in his eyes, the red dimming. He nodded.

He pushed to his feet, his jaw tight as he scanned the room. “I will end Corus for daring to drag you into this.”

She watched Antonio stride into the wailing maelstrom and her heart jumped into her throat. He could beat Corus. She was sure of it. She stood on shaky feet. Debris caught in the swirling wind whizzed past her—paintings, candlesticks, glass. Power throbbed in the air.

And Corus’ laughter was carried on the gusts.

Sophia’s gut cramped. Something was wrong. She took a step forward, her gaze on Antonio’s back.

Where was Corus?

Suddenly, she heard the laughter again. Behind her.

She spun. The Tempest Wind was only a few feet away.

He winked. “Nighty, night.” He twirled a hand around.

A huge funnel of wind burst to life and caught her.

It picked her up and turned her over. The room became a whirl. Her scream was eaten by the gale and then she slammed into a huge mirror that shattered on impact.

Pain exploded through her. As she hit the floor, struggling to stay conscious, she heard Antonio’s agonized roar.

Then darkness swamped her and dragged her away.

Chapter Four

Antonio carried Sophia’s limp body through the streets of Florence.

Guilt ate at him with razor-sharp teeth. It was his fault she was hurt. He looked down at her pale face, at the bright red blood staining her hair. She hadn’t moved since he’d snatched her up and leaped out the broken windows of Corus’ little club.

But she was breathing, and her pulse was strong and steady.

“Hang in there, cara.” Please.

He reached her apartment. It was in a butter-colored historic building not far from the Ponte Vecchio. He’d never been there but knew she lived on the top floor. Looking up, he saw a tiny balcony surrounded by a black wrought-iron railing. After checking that no one was in the street, he bent his knees and jumped. At the same moment, he called the wind and it gave him a gentle push.

They landed safely on the balcony, and he shifted Sophia in his arms as he dealt with the flimsy lock. Then he stepped inside.

When he looked down at her, he saw big blue eyes watching him. Something eased in his gut. “Are you okay?”

She slid an arm along his shoulders. “Head hurts.”

“I know. I’ll take care of you.” He moved toward the dove-gray couch and set her down gently. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

She nodded. “Under the sink in the kitchen.”

In a moment, he was back and when he saw her sitting up, he frowned. “You need to lie down.”

She touched her scalp. “I’m fine. It’s stopped bleeding.” She touched her left arm and winced. “I think I have some glass in my arm and shoulder.”

“Let me see.” He ripped open the kit, and sank down beside her. He slid a hand into her tangled hair and even in knots, it felt like silk. With his free hand, he picked up an antiseptic wipe from the kit and dabbed at the cut on her temple.

He studied the wound. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. Still, the sight of it and the smears of her dried blood made his chest tight. He’d wanted to protect her, and now she was firmly in Corus’ sights.

Next, Antonio studied her arm and shoulder. Several small pieces of glass were embedded in her skin. His jaw tightened, but he fought to keep his touch light as he used some tweezers to remove the shards.

“You’ve never been here before,” she said. “How did you know where I live?”

“You’ve talked about how much you love this building and the view.” And he’d seen her address on her employment forms. His gaze swept the room. She had a few good quality art pieces, stylish furniture, and a bookcase bulging with art history books. “This place suits you.”

She shrugged. “I like it.”

His gaze fell on a print of a painting by the French painter Bouguereau. It showed an elegant, mostly naked man leaning over a beautiful woman. The man had butterfly wings on his back.

“Zephyr,” Sophia said. “One of the Anemoi. The Greek version of the wind gods.” Their gazes met. “Zephyr was god of the West Wind and known as Favonius in Italian.”

“My middle name,” he said quietly. He managed a small smile. “No wings, though.”

She cleared her throat. “Tell me about your brothers. What vices do they battle?”

Antonio cleaned her remaining cuts. “Lorenzo is the Keeper of the Winds. He keeps the Tempest Winds imprisoned on Isola del Vento.”

“Island of the Wind,” she murmured. “That’s where the Venti horse estate is?”

“Yes. Stromboli erupted three weeks ago and fueled the Tempest Winds. They escaped.” Antonio grabbed a small bandage and pressed it over a deeper cut. “The vices the Tempest Winds spread have been growing ever since. Dante battled pride, Soren fights greed, and Luca wars with anger.”

“That must be so difficult.”

Her calm, quiet voice washed over him and desire rose. He ruthlessly shoved it down and stared at the blood smudged on her cheek. “It is. But once we hunt down the Tempest Winds, we’ll imprison them again.

“How will you do that?”

“We’ll free them from their mortal bodies. Then my brothers and I will summon a storm to trap them back on the island. Dante has already beaten his wind.”

Now Antonio had to do the same. Before more people were hurt.

Against his will, he stroked Sophia’s hair. He would keep her safe. No matter what.

She shook her head. “I’ve collected and studied art pieces about the Warriors of the Wind. A part of me still can’t believe it’s all real.”

“The Warriors have existed since the now-lost time of the gods. That’s when Jupiter gave control of the winds to man in order to defend again the Tempest Winds. The Warrior of the North Wind always has five sons who each inherit the power of the wind.”

“Amazing.”

Her fascination could end up getting her killed. He forced himself to move away from her. “Your cuts are all clean now. I’ll keep an eye on you today and stay on your couch tonight.” It might kill him, being so close to her and not touching her. “Tomorrow, you’ll take the first flight out of Florence.”

“No.”

Antonio sat back and scowled. “What do you mean, no? Corus is dangerous. You saw what he can do. I have to stop him and if you’re here, he’ll use you to get to me.”

“I can help you—”

“Like you did this morning?” He gripped her shoulders. “You almost got yourself killed and I almost—” Dio. He heaved in a breath.

Her fingers wrapped around his wrists. “You didn’t hurt me, Antonio.” Her thumb brushed over his pulse. “And I’m honest enough to admit I enjoyed the kiss, and every time we touched.”

Antonio closed his eyes. “You shouldn’t even be close to me.” His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. “I could have raped you, right there in front of Corus.”

Blue eyes watched him steadily. “That would never happen.”

Like a rush of wind, Antonio moved fast. He yanked her against him, his face close to hers. “You don’t know me, Sophia. You don’t see the rot taking me over inside. The only thing I can focus on right now is defeating Corus.”

“And kill yourself in the process?” She pushed him away and rose shakily. “I can hear it in your voice. You’ll sacrifice your life if you have to.”

Antonio’s jaw tightened. “I’ll do what I have to do to protect the world. It’s my duty.” And to protect this woman who touched something inside him he hadn’t ever felt before.

She paced a few steps, then spun to face him, eyes sparking. “I can help you. I’ve been collecting art and items related to the Warriors of the Winds for years. Maybe there’s something in there—”

Antonio rose. “I don’t want your help.” He advanced on her, and she backed up. When her back hit the wall, he continued until his chest pushed against hers. Her eyes widened and he realized he was still shirtless and her gauzy shirt did nothing to stop him from feeling her. His cock tightened and he gritted his teeth. “What I want is to fuck you, Sophia. Sink my cock so far inside you that you’ll feel me for a week.”

She sucked in a breath.

He tried not to, but he had to touch her. Just a little. He nuzzled her neck, drawing in the scent of her. He didn’t know if it was the lust talking, or him, or both. He was so tired of fighting, so tired of feeling like he was losing.

“I just want to screw your brains out. That’s all I want from you.” He looked up and saw angry tears glistening in her eyes. The sight cut through him. “Is that what your married lover said to you?”

“You bastard.” A shaky whisper.

She tried to hit him but he caught her wrist. He had to push her away. Had to make her want to get on the damn plane back to the US. “Is that all he wanted?”

One glistening tear slipped down her cheek. “He told me that he loved me and I fell in love with him. But yes, he was already married and just looking for a fuck.”

Her pain made Antonio want to sweep her up and soothe her. To tell her the asshole was an idiot. But Antonio kept his mouth shut. Her safety was more important. “You’d make a good one.”

She wrenched her hand free and slapped him. The sound was loud in her small apartment. “I was pregnant when James’ wife tracked me down to inform me I was just another in a long line of gullible sluts.”

Madre de Dio. “Sophia—”

She shook her head, her lip trembling before she firmed it. “I lost the baby. And I vowed that I would never, ever lower myself like that again. Now get out.”

Antonio didn’t hesitate. He went back onto her balcony and in a single move, leaped over the railing.

He landed in a crouch, then crossed the street and entered a narrow alley between two buildings. He stopped and sank against the brick wall.

Looking up, he saw her curtain fluttering in the gentle breeze. She deserved so much better than him. He scraped a hand down his face. Damn, he was tired. He let the weathered brick take his weight. He’d stay here and make sure Corus left her alone until she left Florence.

He wanted her to go, but the thought of her leaving made him feel like his insides were being carved out with sharp claws.

Apparently, he could feel something more than lust.

Misery.

***

Sophia stepped outside her building and blinked in the sunlight. After a night spent tossing and turning until her sheets were a twisted mess, she knew she looked tired. She’d seen the dark circles under her eyes in the mirror. She smoothed her hands down her fitted skirt.

Inside, she was a mess of conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, worry, fear, and dammit, desire.

Sophia was hoping work would take her mind off things.

She set off down the street. It was still early enough that not many people were about yet. Most Italians didn’t appear to be morning people. The old buildings made her smile. She loved Florence—the beauty, the history, the architecture. The birthplace of the Renaissance oozed a sense of history that spoke to her.

One block later, she realized someone was following her. Her pulse leaped and she quickened her steps. Expecting to see Corus, she glanced over her shoulder.

A dark figure. With familiar broad shoulders.

With a huff of breath, she stopped. When Antonio reached her, she noted he was dressed in one of his usual suits. Then she saw his face and gasped. “You look horrible.” His face was drawn and his olive skin was pale.

He shrugged. “Long night.”

She knew in an instant that he’d watched her place all night. Dammit, knowing he’d watched over her left her warm inside. But he just wants sex, remember?

“I’ve organized a flight back to D.C.”

She stiffened. “I’m not leaving.”

He stepped closer. “Si, you are.”

Oh, no. She was done letting any man—whether it be an evil Tempest Wind or a sexy, infuriating Warrior of the Wind tell her what to do. She poked a finger into Antonio’s chest. “I don’t take orders from you.”

She spun and headed toward the museum. Antonio followed behind her, a dark, brooding presence. The front façade of the Museo Venti came into view. She sighed. It was gorgeous. The historic building was carved from gleaming white stone, with a set of wide steps leading up to the ornate doors. Elegant burgundy banners hung above, advertising the latest exhibitions.

She strode up the steps, and nodded at the security guards. She headed for her workroom and assumed Antonio went upstairs to his spacious office.

Her workroom wasn’t huge and was dominated by the enormous table she’d pushed up against the window. Shelves lined the space, loaded with all her tools, paints, and other things she needed for her restoration work. It wasn’t neat, but she knew where everything was.

Sophia moved over to the painting she was restoring and pulled the protective cover off. Everything in her relaxed. She sat down on her stool and got to work.

Several hours later, she dipped her paintbrush in the pot and watched remnants of the varnish she’d been removing suspend in the fluid. Over the years, the varnish on the painting had turned opaque, obscuring the artwork it was supposed to preserve. She leaned over the painting, staring at what she’d uncovered.

Another version of the Birth of Venus. This wasn’t Botticelli’s famous painting, hanging in the nearby Uffizi Gallery. But from the quality, she guessed this one had come from his workshop.

She didn’t focus on the gorgeous naked Venus with her flowing locks. Her gaze moved to the man flying through the air on the left-hand side, a beautiful woman clutched in his arms—Zephyr or Favonius. The West Wind. The woman in his arms was some sort of wind nymph who controlled the breezes.

In the painting, the man was handsome and proud. In control. Like nothing could touch him. But time had ravaged the paint, leaving it cracked and worn.

Just like the real-life man.

Sophia pressed her hands to the table. She’d always imagined the Warriors of the Wind as all-powerful, almost god-like. Now she knew they were just men. With thoughts and feelings, strengths and weaknesses.

And now that she’d had time to think, she realized that Antonio had made her angry on purpose. He’d been trying to push her away and protect her.

She released a breath. Men. With a sigh, she leaned back and looked at the door. Outside, the hall led to the grand staircase leading up to the museum’s offices. Antonio had been locked in his office all day.

She sighed and pulled the cover over the painting. How much longer could he hold out against the lust? She bit down on her lip.

Sophia. Her name drifted in the air and a light breeze ruffled her hair.

Goosebumps covered her skin and she scanned her small workroom. Nobody was there.

Then she saw a shadow in the corner move and morph into the shape of a man. He looked so much like Antonio her heart jumped in her chest.

“You look gorgeous, bella.” Corus’ dark gaze raked over her navy skirt and pinstriped shirt.

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you are beautiful.”

He was a few feet away, but she felt his presence like a dark touch. The wind swirled around them, a living thing. It brushed over her and stroked her with seeking fingers.

He moved closer, but she stayed still, her hand curling. She wanted to run and scream for Antonio. But a part of her feared for him, facing this evil when his control was already stretched so thin.

She knew Antonio wanted to protect her, but she also wanted to protect him.

Lifting her chin, she shot Corus a cool look.

His smile was sharp and cunning. “So brave. The Warrior chose well.”

The Tempest Wind lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. She tried not to flinch. His fingers slid over her face, her lips, down her neck.

“Do you know how much he wants you?” Corus whispered.

Her eyelids grew heavy. She struggled to keep them open, but they fluttered closed. Images of Antonio filled her mind.

“His body cries for yours. And you crave his touch, don’t you, pretty Sophia?”

The hand touching her no longer belonged to an evil stranger, but to Antonio. It slid lower and cupped her breast.

“Do you want what I can give you, bella?”

That drugging voice was low. Antonio’s voice. “Yes.”

A finger flicked at her nipple. “I will give you pleasure, Sophia. I will slake your lust.”

Lust? She didn’t want lust. She wanted to show Antonio that he had more inside him than that. Her eyes snapped open.

And she looked straight into Corus’ smug gaze.

She felt dirty. She jerked backward. “I will never want you, Corus. Or the evil you offer.”

His eyes turned hard. “I offer you what the Warrior won’t.”

“You are nothing compared to Antonio.”

Corus hissed. “You think he is better than me? He is no different than me. All he can give you is the fire and heat of lust.”

“You’re wrong. He’s a good man. A man dedicated to his work and his duty. He protects, you destroy.”

“Fine.” Corus tossed his head back. “I’ll leave you to suffer. You will never have any satisfaction from Venti.” His dangerous smirk reappeared. “In fact, I think my nemesis is already too far gone. Not even you can save him now.”

Her eyes widened. What the hell was he talking about? She glanced at the door.

“You’re far too late.” Corus laughed as he melted away into the shadows. “Soon he will be exactly like me.”

Sophia ran. She slammed open the door and raced down the hall. Her heels hampered her, so she kicked them off. She clambered up the wide sweep of stairs, uncaring that two museum employees gawked at her like she’d lost her mind.

She ran past the desk of Antonio’s assistant, heedless of the woman’s call to stop, and skidded to a stop at his door. She rapped her knuckles against the wood. “Antonio?”

Ominous silence.

Heart in her throat, she turned the handle. The door opened and she slipped inside. She closed the door behind her and scanned the room.

A huge window showcased a perfect view of the terracotta dome of the Duomo and the rooftops of Florence. But the office was empty. No Antonio.

A shudder ran through her and she sagged against the door. Corus had been winding her up.

Then she heard a groan.

“Antonio?” Heart rapping against her ribs, she hurried across the room, skirting the big, glossy desk.

He was on his knees. Perspiration shone on his face and dampened his hair. He looked up at her through tortured eyes. “Sophia.” A spasm crossed his face. “Get out of here.”

She reached out, her hand hovering near his face. She didn’t know if she should touch him. “How can I help you?”

He shook his head, the movement slow. “I’ve lost control. The lust is…dragging me under. You need to go before I hurt you.”

She swallowed. She’d spent a year running from everything. Running from her heartache, her loss. Running from life. She’d closed herself off and stopped trusting herself.

It was time to trust herself again. To do what was right.

Right now, a good man needed her help and she was going to take the biggest risk of her life. She moved closer to him. “I’m not leaving you.”

Chapter Five

Sophia jabbed the intercom on Antonio’s desk. “Claudia, can you have Signor Venti’s car brought round, per favore?”

“Si, Signorina Crane,” Antonio’s assistant answered.

Sophia stared down at his dark head and touched a hand to his hair. “You can fight this.”

He gripped her wrist in a tight clasp, almost crushing her bones. He dragged her closer and pressed his face against her belly.

She trembled. She felt his hot breath through the fabric of her skirt and desire rushed through her.

“I can smell your arousal, Sophia,” he said, his voice a husky growl.

She squeezed her eyes closed. “Antonio—”

One of his hands fiddled with the hem of her skirt, while the other hand slid up to cup her bottom. He looked up, his eyes threaded with fire. “You’re playing a dangerous game coming near me.” His fingers slid under her skirt, brushing the backs of her knees.

“This isn’t a game,” she said.

His hand moved higher, skimming her inner thigh.

“I want to help you, Antonio.”

He made an angry sound and moved, yanking her down so fast she squeaked. Before she could respond, his mouth captured hers. His hard arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as his tongue ravished her. She accepted the wild kiss and returned it. Slowly, she felt some of the vibrating tension seep out of him.

She tangled her hands in his thick hair and broke the kiss. “I trust you, Antonio. I know you can control this.”

A grimace crossed his face and his hands slid away from her. “Damn you for being so stubborn.”

She used her strength to get him to his feet. “I told you before, I can help you. I’ve been running from everything for too long…I’ve decided it’s time to stop.”

“Hell of a time for you to decide that, cara.”

“Tell me what you need?”

He made a choked noise. “I am not going to say the very dirty, sexy answer I want to tell you. Just help me get home.”

She nodded. “I’ve already called for your car.”

She wrapped an arm around his back and together they stumbled out of his office. Claudia appeared, a worried look on her face, and Sophia waved the dark-haired assistant off.

“Signor Venti is ill. I’ll help him home.”

As they headed down the stairs, Sophia felt the heat pouring off his body. His hair and shirt were damp.

When they descended the front steps of the museum, she saw a silver Ferrari waiting out front, and breathed a sigh of relief.

She got Antonio settled in the passenger seat and then snatched the keys from the young museum employee. She slid into the driver’s seat and shot Antonio a glance. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, and deep grooves bracketed his mouth.

“Hold on a little longer.”

She started the car and pulled out into the street. The fancy car required all her focus. Thankfully, she’d been to a cocktail party at Antonio’s home before and remembered where it was. He owned an exquisite townhouse in the heart of Florence, only a few minutes from the museum.

She screeched to a stop in front of a stone building. The cream façade was topped by a terracotta-tiled roof. Burgundy shutters flanked the windows.

She opened her door, but before she could skirt the car, he pushed out of the vehicle, bracing himself with one hand on the roof.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t touch me.” He gave a vicious shake of his head. “I can make it from here. I want you to go.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Let’s get you inside.”

“Sophia.” His gaze was locked on her. “It’s best, safest, if you left Florence. Go home until this…is over.”

Until the Tempest Winds were defeated. Or until he succumbed to his lust and lost himself. Or was killed.

Ignoring him, she slipped an arm around him and led him to his front door. He cursed in rapid-fire Italian under his breath all the way. She couldn’t quite catch everything, but she heard something about stubborn women and people who didn’t listen.

She stuck the key in the lock on his door. “Corus paid me a visit.”

Antonio jerked to a stop. “What? Did he hurt you?”

She opened the door. “No. But he told me you were…”

“Close to breaking.” Antonio moved through the doorway. “He senses it. He whispers on the wind, trying to tip me over the edge.” Antonio’s shoulders slumped.

“You aren’t giving up now.” She brushed past him and moved inside.

He followed her in, his usual lithe stride stiff. She paused at the base of a curving staircase. “Now what?”

“I need to get to my room and take a cold shower.” He gripped the railing and started up.

Sophia stayed a step behind him, watching his unsteady steps and the way his knuckles strained white. When he stumbled, she slipped an arm around him again.

They hobbled down a wide hall, and at the end, he opened his bedroom door. Sophia swallowed. The room was gorgeous and decorated in dark masculine blues and grays. The bed was large, the intricate headboard twisted into sensuous shapes that hinted at naked, entwined bodies.

“Come on.” She helped him over to sit on the bed.

“I’m here. Now go.”

She thrust her hands on her hips. “I told you, I’m not leaving you.” She worked the rest of the buttons on his damp shirt free, then yanked it off.

He moaned, doubling over. “It’s getting worse. If you don’t leave, I’m going to tear those neat and tidy clothes off you. I’ll throw you on the floor and thrust myself between those slim thighs of yours, and fuck you until you scream.”

Instant heat flooded her, turning her slick between her legs. Her gaze traced his sculpted chest and her pulse raced.

A growl tore from his throat. “I can smell your arousal again.”

She saw his eyes were glowing, as though flames flickered in their depths.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” His big shoulders heaved. “There’s a box under the bed. Pull it out.”

Curious, she kneeled and reached under the bed. Her hands touched a large wooden box and she slid it out. She flipped open the lid, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

It was a set of chains.

The metal was shiny and new. They looked like the ones Corus had used.

Antonio sucked in a deep breath. “I had them made the day the Tempest Winds escaped. They’re strong enough to hold me.” He lay back on the bed, spreading his legs and reaching his arms above him. “I need you to chain me. Hopefully, over time, I’ll calm down.”

Sophia swallowed. “There must be another way.”

“There isn’t. Do it.”

She sat on the edge of the big bed. The chains had been designed to clamp around an ankle or wrist, and the other end around the headboard or footboard of the bed.

Oh, God. Reluctantly, she attached one chain to the footboard, then to his ankle.

After his legs were chained, she tied up his left arm. She couldn’t look at him as she completed the task. His big body twitched and she realized he was fighting the need to stop her.

As she reached for his second wrist, he reached up and gripped her chin. His eyes still burned, his beautiful green irises shot through with red. “Thank you, cara. For helping me.”

She nodded and clamped the final chain in place.

Then she stood. “I’ll do anything to help you.”

Sophia could finally admit what she wanted. Who she wanted. Seeing Antonio’s struggle, the way he’d fought to protect her, all of it had earned her trust completely.

She started to unbutton her shirt.

His eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

She shucked off the shirt, then after a flick of the zipper on her skirt, she slid it down her legs. “I’m going to help you. We can beat the lust together.”

“No.” His hot gaze raked over her. “Leave.” He jerked against the chains.

Sophia took her bra off and then skimmed her panties down. Antonio’s gaze made her skin flush. No one had ever looked at her with such hunger. She’d give Antonio and herself what they both needed.

“You were worried you’d hurt me, but chained up like this, you can’t.”

He yanked against the chains like a wild beast, perspiration slicking his magnificent body. His face reflected his battle—it glowed with lust, but under that she saw something else.

He cared about her.

“Just let yourself go, Antonio. I promise I won’t let you fall.”

“Sophia.” Her name was torn from him.

She pressed her hands and knees to the gray silk sheets. “I’m the one in control now.”

***

The torment had never been this bad.

Antonio wanted Sophia safe…and he was not safe. But she was determined to try and save him.

He was terrified he’d hurt her.

She crawled closer, and he couldn’t take his gaze off her beautiful, naked body. She was all creamy skin and tantalizing curves. Her blue eyes glowed.

The beast in him yanked on the chains, wanting to reach for her. The man in him tugged on the chains, desperate to free himself and make her leave.

But as she’d told him, she was in control.

“I want you, Sophia. More than I want to breathe. But this can’t happen. You have to go.”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Quiet now. I know what I’m doing.”

When she straddled his hips, he felt the slick warmth of her brush his stomach. His hips jerked up.

She pressed her palms to his chest, her touch burning through him, setting fire to his already inflamed senses.

She smoothed her hands over him. “God, I love your body.”

“I love yours,” he said. “I’ve imagined you in my bed, naked, so many times.”

Her hands moved up her own body, cupping her breasts. “Like this?”

As she played with her nipples, he hissed. “Yes.”

She leaned down and fused her mouth to his. The kiss was wild, hungry. He needed the taste of her. Needed all of her.

She broke away, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She slid lower down his body. When her slim hands tugged at his trousers, Antonio thought he’d simply explode. She shoved his trousers down as far as his splayed legs allowed.

In seconds, she freed his cock. “You’re so hard and thick.”

Her hands moved up and down his length. She palmed the swollen head of him, slicking pre-come down his cock. He made a sound—part growl, part groan.

She stroked him, her hands sliding from the fat purple head to the thick base. He shouted, jerking against the chains.

Then she moved and lowered her head. She sucked the head of his cock into her mouth.

“Cazzo! Sophia.” He bucked his hips up.

She swallowed him deeper, then pulled off him with a pop. She lapped at his cock, tasting him. “You taste amazing, Antonio.”

As he watched her, he saw her slide one hand between her thighs. He groaned.

Her blue eyes flicked up to him. “You like watching me suck your cock?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

Her lips parted. “And you like watching me pleasure myself?”

“Yes. Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m rolling my little clit around.” She gasped. “It’s swollen and I wish your tongue was lapping at it.”

“Later. Later I’ll spread you out, eat you, fuck you hard, make you come again and again. Then I’ll start all over again.”

Her chest hitched. With another smile, she sucked him back into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around him, finding a thick vein and working it.

“Yes, Sophia. Suck my cock, cara.”

Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails biting into him as she increased her suction, her cheeks hollowing. He wouldn’t survive this. But at least he’d die knowing Sophia and the most excruciating pleasure of his life.

On the edge of release, Antonio realized he was growling like an animal, the sound coming from deep in his chest. Then Sophia sat up, her wonderful mouth pulling away. She moved until her thighs straddled his hips, until her hot, wet center touched him.

Again, he fought the chains, mindless, desperate.

She leaned over and fumbled at his bedside table. Her chest was rising and falling as she opened a small foil pack, then rolled the condom over him. Then she positioned herself over him. He felt the head of his erection nestle in her folds, then she paused.

“I want inside you,” he growled. “Let me inside, cara.”

He thrust up wildly, desperate to feel her sink down on him.

But an agile move of her hips prevented it, her hands pressing against his chest. “Don’t you realize?” Her voice was husky, desire in its depths. “You have to let me have control. Trust me. Let go. Only then can we beat the lust.”

Antonio froze. Her eyes glowed an otherworldly shade of blue and her pale skin shone like marble. He felt a brush of power over his burning skin, like the kiss of a cool breeze.

Aurae. The word echoed in his head.

Sophia was Aurae. One of those women gifted with control of the seasonal breezes. A woman with the power to control his vice.

A woman born to be his mate.

He was a dominant man by nature, and one who’d held power all his life. Giving control to another went against everything he was.

But this was Sophia. And he’d already given her his trust when he’d asked her to chain him.

She was his. The truth of it echoed through him. He wanted her, desperately, but beneath the desire was so much more. Something that burned brighter and hotter and only for her.

“Look at me.”

Her whisper made him jerk his gaze to her face.

She lowered herself slowly. The fat head of his cock slid inside her and he watched her bite her lip.

Dio. He thrust up and this time, he slammed inside her tight body. She threw her head back, her cry echoing around them.

“So big,” she panted.

Antonio groaned. She was so tight, hot. He forced himself to stay still, even as shocking pleasure roared through him. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

She smiled. “Never. I just needed a moment to adjust.” Then she raised her hips, then lowered back down.

Sophia started riding him, dragging herself up and down on his throbbing cock.

Pleasure built. “Sophia. Please.”

She rocked her hips harder, her flesh slapping against his. Soon she was taking every inch of him, her face twisted with pleasure.

If he’d been free, he would have pushed her down onto the silk and pistoned between her legs. He would have touched every inch of her, marking her as his.

Her strangled cries fueled his raw, mindless desire. Antonio surrendered himself to her, letting her ride them both to sweaty oblivion. She stripped the lust away. In its wake, there was hot, natural desire and something he was too afraid to name. The bright, hot spark of something he’d thought himself incapable of feeling.

She slid a hand between her legs. He watched her rub her clit, then stroke where she was stretched around him. She was so damn sexy.

Her body clamped down on his, convulsing.

“That’s it, Sophia. Come on my cock, cara.”

She threw her head back and screamed.

He thrust his hips up, his orgasm moving through him like the wildest storm. The unbearable pressure in Antonio broke. His body shook, then with a wild shout, he shot his come deep inside Sophia’s sweet body.

Chapter Six

Little aftershocks of pleasure still rocked through Sophia. This man was hers.

A part of her still worried he’d break her heart, but she knew that love required risks. With Antonio, she was willing to take them.

His strong body shuddered beneath her, his cock still hard inside her. God, he was gorgeous. And the frenzied sex had been the best of her life. She only wished he could have touched her. She wanted his hands on her.

“More.” Antonio’s voice was husky and his hips thrust up.

God. She pressed her palms to his chest. “I can’t handle more.”

“I want to feel you come again.” He moved his hips again and she swiveled hers.

She lifted up, feeling the drag as his thick flesh moved out of her. She’d never been with a man as big as Antonio, and she felt stretched and sensitive. She shoved back down, taking him back inside her.

Another orgasm caught her by surprise. She gasped, her body shaking as pleasure ripped through her. The room dimmed and she closed her eyes against the onslaught.

When she regained awareness, she was collapsed on top of Antonio’s chest, damp skin pressed to damp skin. His heartbeat was fast and loud beneath her ear.

Antonio had given his body to her, but by surrendering his control, he’d also given her his trust.

“Sophia?” His voice was low, sated. “Are you okay?”

She lifted her head. When she saw his face, she sucked in a breath. His eyes were the clear liquid green she loved. The lines that had carved his face had eased, and his charming smile held an almost boyish edge she’d never seen on him before.

“I think I should be asking you that question.” She raised a hand and stroked his cheek.

His smile widened. “I feel fucking incredible. Thanks to you.”

“The lust?”

“Under control. The whispers are gone.”

Warmth burst in her chest. “I’m so glad.”

“Now—” he jangled the chains “—how about freeing me?”

With a choked laugh, she sat up. “I don’t know. I kind of like having a sexy Italian hunk at my disposal.”

He growled. “Sophia. With or without the chains, you have this Italian at your disposal.” His voice lowered. “Anytime, anywhere, anything you want.”

His sexy voice shivered through her. She set to work undoing the chains, and in minutes, he was free. She turned to face him, but strong hands grabbed her, pressing her down onto the soft mattress.

“Stay here and don’t move.” He stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He strode into the adjoining bathroom.

Before she knew it, he was back. His weight moved over her, his arms caging her to the bed.

“You are a frighteningly courageous woman, Sophia Crane.” His lips brushed over hers.

Her heart flip flopped in her chest. “I’ve been the opposite of brave lately. Ever since the affair and my miscarriage, I’ve been hiding. I think you and this crazy situation helped bring out the courage in me.”

His mouth traveled down her neck. He nipped at her earlobe, then pressed kisses to the pulse in her neck. “It was inside you all along.” He pulled back, his face turning serious. “Do you know what you are?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Does the word Aurae mean anything to you?”

That single word made her freeze. “I’ve seen it in my research. They were the keepers of the seasonal breezes. They were involved with the Warriors of the Winds.”

He nodded. “The Aurae were warriors who helped stand against the Tempest Winds. They were also potential mates for the Warriors of the Wind. My mother was Aurae.”

“Mates?” Sophia breathed.

He played with her hair. “Among the Aurae was a woman who was a perfect match for each Warrior. The other half of his soul.”

“What happened to them?” she asked.

“They died out. Since my mother died, we’ve had no contact with any Aurae for almost thirty years.”

“And that means you have no help controlling vices of the wind.” She sucked in a breath. “You’re saying you think I’m Aurae?”

“Si.”

Could it be true? Sophia had always wondered why she was drawn to the legends of the Warriors of the Wind. Since she’d been young and seen Antonio and his brothers, she’d needed to know more.

Antonio’s lips touched hers again, scattering her thoughts. “There’ll be time to talk more about it later. I saw your eyes and skin glow, I think you have enough Aurae blood to control the breezes.”

She had power? The thought was mind-boggling.

Then his lips slipped over her jaw. “Thank you for saving me, cara.”

She smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

His hands cupped her breasts and then his mouth closed over one nipple. God. She arched into him, sensation hitting her.

“I want to learn how to pleasure you, Sophia.” He sucked her nipple, then kissed across to the other peak. “To discover if you like slow, light caresses or hard, rough tugs.” He gently bit her nipple.

She cried out. “I don’t know. All of it.”

“I want to thank you for what you did.” His mouth moved lower, his tongue sliding into her navel, before he dragged his teeth over her hipbone. He nudged her thighs apart. “I also just want you. And this time, there is only me and you here. Only our pleasure.”

He nipped her inner thigh and anticipation shivered through her. “What are you doing?”

“I want to taste your pleasure, Sophia.” He lowered his head and licked her.

“Oh, God.” She stared blindly at the view of his dark head framed by her thighs. She bucked against his clever mouth.

He lapped and sucked, taking his time to learn what she liked most. Soon she was a trembling mess, pleasure and need running through her like electricity. She sank a hand into his thick hair, holding him to her.

More. She needed more. She heard hungry, frenzied cries in the room and realized they were hers. She pressed her feet to his shoulders and lifted her hips up, needing him closer.

His hands tightened on her thighs and he closed his lips around her clit.

Heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest, she screamed. Her back bowed, scalding pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

When Sophia opened her eyes, she blinked. She lay sprawled on the bed, her body still trembling.

Antonio was kneeling beside her, a satisfied smile on his face.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, you’re amazing and I think I might have passed out from your clever mouth.”

He kissed her, and Sophia tasted herself on his lips. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer.

Then he sat back. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Her gaze dropped, her eyes widening. “I can see that.” His beautiful cock was rising up, long and thick.

He took a second to roll a condom on, then he kneeled between her legs, his hands clamping on her hips. He yanked her closer and she gasped. She felt the broad head of him brush against her.

“You’d better hold onto something,” he growled. “This time, I’m in control, and I’m going to fuck you, hard.”

Her pulse spiked. “Yes.” She raised her arms and gripped the headboard.

He slammed into her.

A cry tore from her. There was no charm or polish. This was a raw, hard fucking.

“More.” It was a demand. He pulled back.

“Yes. Antonio, don’t stop.”

He thrust back in and the air was forced out of her with a sharp hiss, her breasts bouncing. Then his hips were pistoning, moving with rapid thrusts.

Sophia held on, wrapping her legs around him so her heels pressed into his lower back.

This was a claiming and she loved it.

She looked into his handsome face. It was etched with desire for her, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. His eyes were intense, his mouth set in a firm line as he focused on taking her.

“You feel so fucking good.” His green gaze stayed locked on her.

In those eyes, she saw the swirl of so many emotions. He continued his steady drive, his big body surging into her. He tilted her hips, and whenever he sank deep, he ground against her. She felt it on her clit.

A rush of wind washed over her and she felt his power. Without conscious thought, she answered and she felt a cool breeze entwine with his.

Antonio’s eyes widened and then he was cursing in Italian. His body tensed. “I’m going to come.”

She dug her heels in. “Come.”

He gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowing. “You first.” He slid a hand between them, where their bodies were joined. He pinched her swollen clit.

Lights flashed in her vision and the pressure in her exploded. She gave a hoarse scream and then he thrust back inside her, hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall.

His big body shuddered and a groan ripped from him. When he collapsed on her, she stroked his strong, sleek back.

They were both panting. Sophia had never felt as sexy, used, or good as she did now. She’d always wondered why people were so obsessed with sex. She slid her hand down his skin. Now she knew.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Cara, you are everything I thought I could never have.”

Warmth in her chest. Then, before she could chicken out, she said, “I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you, Antonio.”

He raised his head, triumph in his eyes. “Good. I was planning to keep you captive, purchase exquisite pieces of art you couldn’t resist, and make you fall in love with me.”

“I just want you. And the mind-blowing sex.”

He laughed, then his face sobered. “I don’t deserve you. And I still have to destroy Corus.”

Sophia cupped his cheeks. “You do deserve me. And we’re going to beat Corus.”

Antonio’s muscles tensed. “If he hurts you…”

“We’re going to beat him,” she said again. “Together.”

Antonio buried his face in her hair. “Together. Now, rest, cara. As soon as night falls, the hunt begins.”

***

Sophia stirred, silk sliding sensuously against her naked body.

With her eyes closed, she reached a hand across the bed. Antonio was missing, but the sheets were still warm. She smiled into her pillow and stretched like a cat.

She was sore. In a good way. After their frenzied loving, he’d fed her and then made love to her again, slowly and tenderly. God, the man knew a lot of ways to love a woman. He’d taken his time exploring every inch of her and she wondered how many women had enjoyed him before her.

She felt a niggle of doubt, but stomped on it. His past lovers were none of her business, and Antonio wasn’t like James. He was a protector, a good man.

A weight next to her made the mattress dip. She felt the press of warm lips to the back of her neck. They trailed downward along her spine. A hand slid under the sheet, cupping her breast.

When hard fingers closed on her nipple, pinching and hurting, her eyes snapped open.

Corus sat beside her, a small smile on his full lips. She jerked backward, grabbing the sheet and pulling it over her naked body.

“So, the Warrior succumbed to your charms, lovely Sophia.”

Antonio was close. He’d be back soon. She licked her dry lips. She had to keep Corus occupied until then.

The Tempest Wind reached out and caressed her shoulder. “Did you enjoy his lust? Revel in him rutting on you like a beast in heat?”

As Corus’ hand drifted lower, Sophia locked her jaw. Keep him talking. She knocked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’d very much like to sample what he had.” Corus shifted closer.

A hot wind curled through the room, dipping and swirling, cunning like its master. It skated over her skin.

“Do you want me?” His hand slid over the silk, his hand coming to rest at the top of her thigh. “Do you feel the burn of lust, sweet Sophia? Will you open your body for me?”

She jerked away from him. “No. And I never will. Your touch disgusts me.”

Corus’ dark eyes widened. “You feel nothing? But you lust after the Warrior—?”

“What I feel for Antonio is something you will never understand. It has nothing to do with lust.”

The Tempest Wind’s face warped. “No! Everyone wants me. I am lust.”

“You are nothing,” she whispered fiercely.

His eyes fired. “I will make you want me.”

In a quick move, he landed on top of her, pinning her down. She kicked her legs and hammered at his back.

He laughed. His hands ripped at the sheet, but she kept a death grip on it. The feel of those fingers on her made her sick.

Ripping the silk away, he stared down at her naked body. Bile rose in her throat. His hands slid down her body, then one palm spanned her belly and he paused.

“Well, well. Venti’s a fast worker.”

Her mind raced for a way to fight him off. She needed something to hit him with. The chains were back under the bed, but she might be able to reach them in time.

Corus’ hands dug into her skin. “You don’t even realize, do you? Oh, it’s going to be my pleasure to take what Venti considers his.”

Sophia felt like a rock was lodged in her throat. No way. She reared up and shoved at Corus with all her strength. He shouted and tumbled off her.

She scrambled off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her and walking backward across the room. “I’ll fight you.”

“Good.” He lunged after her.

She raced across the room. He tackled her and they hit the glossy wood floor together. Pain radiated through her, but she kicked, screamed, and raked her nails down his face. He grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet.

Then she felt a strange sensation. Like her body was dropping away and becoming the wind. “No!”

“We’re going for a little ride.” The French doors to the balcony slammed open, glass shattering.

Antonio! She screamed, but the sound broke off as they turned into the wind and swept out the doors.

Chapter Seven

Antonio balanced the tray, careful not to spill the drinks or the risotto he’d just thrown together for Sophia.

He smiled. They’d burned off a lot of calories over the last few hours.

He climbed the stairs. When he’d left her sleeping, he’d pulled on some trousers, a shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, and hadn’t worried about shoes. Taking care of Sophia was his top priority.

Dio, seeing her in his bed, with her hair spread over his pillow. His chest swelled. The way she’d taken him and then given herself to him… She was a gift he planned to care for and savor.

He felt…good. Light. His smile widened. He couldn’t wait to get back to his beautiful woman.

His smile dimmed. The sun would set soon and then he had to deal with Corus. But now, with Sophia’s support, Antonio knew he could beat his enemy.

As he neared the bedroom he heard Sophia scream, followed by a thud and the shatter of glass.

Everything in him went cold. He dropped the tray, ignoring its crash, and burst into his bedroom.

He stared at the pillows littered on the floor, then the open, ruined doors to the balcony. He scented Corus’ stench.

No, no. “Sophia!”

Antonio ran for the balcony. He leaped over the railing, and dived off the edge. Before he hit the ground, his body disintegrated, turning into the wind.

He rushed through the evening sky, desperate to find her. If Corus hurt her, touched her…Antonio focused on finding the trail of the Tempest Wind.

Corus wasn’t making it easy. Antonio flew through the twisting back streets of Florence. Every now and then, he picked up Sophia’s floral scent. It gave him strength.

Without the lust blinding him, he was in complete control, his power growing inside him. Hold on, cara.

He flew through the Piazza della Repubblica, through the narrow courtyard of the Uffizi Gallery, and out into the Piazza della Signoria.

Sophia’s scent grew stronger. He materialized in the shadows on the edge of the square. It was getting late and the crowds were thinning. He walked toward the wide arches of the Loggia dei Lanzi, searching for a glimpse of mahogany hair.

He paused near one of the statues under the arches. The woman immortalized in white marble was being dragged down by a man, one of her slim arms reaching into the air in silent appeal. Antonio’s gut tightened. It was known as the Rape of the Sabine Women. A reminder of a time the Tempest Winds had escaped and Corus had contaminated people with lust.

At the base of the statue, he saw why he’d scented Sophia. Strands of her dark hair rested at the bottom of the woman’s feet like a sacrifice.

Or a taunt.

Antonio swallowed a curse, his hands curling into fists. He spun and launched himself into the air. He pushed hard, following her trail, and swept up into the hills. The lights of Florence twinkled below like a blanket of stars, but all his attention was for his foe and the woman who’d captured Antonio’s heart.

As the minutes passed with no sign of them, panic seized Antonio. Every second increased the chance that Corus would hurt her.

As Antonio swept over the ruins of an old palazzo, he realized the trail ended. He paused, hovering above the tumbled stones.

Corus was down there. Sophia was down there.

Antonio arrowed downward and as he reached the ground, he pulled the power of the wind around him, and took solid form. He scanned the ruined walls of what had once been a grand palace. His ancestors’ memories were in his head, and he could see the palazzo as it had been hundreds of years ago.

He waited. Listened.

It was silent. Too silent. The insects and small animals were all hushed. He let his wind flare out slowly.

It brought him back the smallest scrape of a shoe on stone. A hushed intake of breath. A woman’s muffled cry.

Antonio spun and strode into the growing darkness. He stepped through a broken archway but saw nothing but shadows.

“Come on, Corus,” Antonio shouted. “Quit being a coward.”

“You may have plowed your cock between Sophia’s silky thighs, but that won’t save you.” Corus appeared from the blackness. He dragged a stumbling Sophia behind him. Her pale skin stood out in the dark. She was only wrapped in the gray silk sheet from Antonio’s bed.

His jaw clenched. He saw the bruises smudging her arms and the fear on her face. His rage turned ice cold. “Sophia, did he hurt you?”

One hand clenched on the sheet and she lifted her head defiantly. “I’m fine.”

That was his Sophia. Even in the face of danger, even when she was afraid, she still had courage.

Corus yanked her closer, his hand tangling in her hair. “I will have her. I want to lick her luscious skin and take what you’ve tasted. You can’t stop me.” His dark gaze burned into Antonio. “Do you feel the lust rising? Clawing to get out?”

“No.” He looked into Sophia’s blue eyes. “You can’t toy with me anymore, Corus.”

The Tempest Wind paused, his gaze raking over Antonio’s body. “It can’t be true.”

Suddenly Sophia spun, breaking Corus’ hold. “It’s true, you bastard.” She slammed a fist into Corus’ face.

As the Wind staggered back, Antonio leaped forward. Sophia met him half way, diving into his arms. Holding her to him, he pulled her back.

Corus raised his head and wiped the blood from his mouth. “You’ll regret that.” He shook his head. “There is no way the lust can be gone. I felt how close you were to succumbing, to joining me.”

Sophia entwined her fingers with Antonio’s. With her by his side, he felt a strength he’d never felt before.

“You know it’s true.” Antonio lifted their linked hands. “She keeps it at bay.”

Corus’ startled gaze switched to Sophia. “No.”

Antonio shot him a humorless smile. “Not all the Aurae died out.”

“She can’t be Aurae! We didn’t escape until we knew they were all gone.”

Antonio locked that little tidbit of information away for later. “Luckily for me, I’ve found the smart, courageous woman who is mine.” Sophia squeezed his fingers, then Antonio focused on Corus. “Time for you to go back to your prison.”

“No!” Corus turned and ran.

Antonio cursed. The Tempest Wind sprinted at one of the ruined brick walls. His feet hit the stone and there was a blast of air as he ran up the side of the wall.

“Stay back,” Antonio yelled at Sophia. He ran as well and then bent his legs and launched himself into the air.

As the West Wind gathered around him, he flew high and landed atop the ruins. Directly in front of Corus.

Corus summoned his wind and it whipped at Antonio.

The West Wind roared, more powerful than ever before. Then he threw his arms out and his wind charged forward.

Their winds crashed together, causing the wall beneath them to sway.

Antonio fought to keep his balance. He glanced down and saw Sophia below. He had to end this and keep her safe.

He pushed forward, fighting the wind. Corus’ face was strained. Antonio leaped at the man. Their arms locked and they turned, pushing at each other. Antonio got in a punch and then Corus shoved back.

They parted, staring at each other. Then Corus charged forward. He lowered his head and slammed into Antonio, tackling him off the wall.

They fell, air rushing past them. Antonio heard Sophia scream. He called on his wind to catch him.

It slowed their fall, but they still slammed into the ground hard.

The air was forced out of Antonio and pain exploded through his body. He looked over and saw Corus had hit his head, blood sliding down his face. Antonio tried to move and pain was like lightning down his left arm. It hung, broken, by his side.

Lightning cracked and slammed down nearby.

Dammit. Antonio pushed to his feet and saw Corus had summoned the lightning. The Tempest Wind was grinning at him, his teeth covered with blood. Lightning sparked on his hands.

Antonio held his good hand up, a ball of lightning sparking to life on his palm.

“She won’t keep the lust away,” Corus said. “Not for long.”

“Yes, she will.” The quiet truth glowed inside Antonio. He wanted forever with Sophia. “Because with her, I can have more. I’m falling in love with her.”

“Love?” Corus shook his head wildly. “It isn’t enough, we both know that.”

“You’re wrong.”

The Tempest Wind turned to look at Sophia. “He has no love in him. He will fuck you, make you come, and then he’ll move onto the next pretty thing.”

Antonio tossed his ball of lightning. Corus dodged.

His gut tight, Antonio looked at Sophia. “He isn’t completely wrong. Before, that was me. But I never lied to a woman, or made promises I couldn’t keep.”

She watched him, her blue eyes shimmering.

“But you changed that, Sophia. The moment you stepped into my museum, I knew you were different. I’ve been falling for you since that day. And what you did for me…” he pulled in a deep breath. “You saved me and you made me realize I had more inside me than my vice or my duty.” He poured all his feelings into his voice. “With you, I want everything.”

She smiled at him. “You changed me, too. And I want everything as well.”

“You can’t trust him.” Corus stepped forward and a fork of lightning hit the ground in a blinding flash. “Especially now that his child rests inside you. Once you’re big and round, he’ll look elsewhere.”

Everything inside Antonio stilled. What the hell? He felt like the air around them had been sucked away. He looked at Sophia. She stared back at him, unblinking, her face impossibly pale.

She shook her head. “He’s lying, right? Even if I were…it’s way too early to know.”

Corus smiled. “You don’t know about the West Wind? What it brings?”

She swallowed. “Spring.”

Corus tipped his head back and laughed, the nasty sound echoing through the night. “Tell her, Venti. Tell her about the West Wind.”

Dio. His gaze slid down Sophia’s body, tracing over her now familiar curves. He sent his wind out and it happily twirled around her before it came back to him. It carried the subtle hint of new life within Sophia.

He squeezed his eyes closed.

“Antonio?”

He swallowed. “The West Wind is the bringer of spring…and it holds the promise of new life.”

“His power implanted his seed in you,” Corus added.

She shook her head, a palm sliding down to cover her belly.

“Sophia—” Antonio didn’t know what to say. He knew about her loss, and he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about this. Everything was still so new between them, and he’d unwittingly stolen her choice from her. He strode up to her. “I’m sorry.”

She straightened. “I’m not.” She smiled, and it was wide and blinding. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her stomach, spreading his fingers. “This is a good thing. An amazing gift.”

Amazement filled him. He felt the tiny pulse of power. A child. His and Sophia’s child.

Her gaze moved to the Tempest Wind. “It’s time to end this evil.”

Power filled Antonio and he spun to face Corus. He had to protect mankind, and he had to protect Sophia and their child.

He launched himself at Corus. He punched the man in the gut, then followed with a front kick, and a few hard chops to Corus’ side.

The Tempest Wind grunted and fought back. He slammed a blow into Antonio’s broken arm. Antonio roared at the agony, nausea hitting him.

Their winds blew up around them.

Then suddenly, Sophia was there. She had a huge rock clutched in her hand.

“Sophia, get back!”

She ran at Corus and threw the rock at his head. It glanced off the Tempest Wind’s temple and he went down on one knee.

Then she spun and pressed her hand to Antonio’s side. Power flooded him. He called on his West Wind and a column of wind twirled through the air, growing larger and stronger.

Antonio let it grow into a powerful storm. Lightning flashed in the depths of the tornado.

“No.” Corus looked up, his voice shaky and low. “I don’t want to go back! I don’t want to be trapped again in an endless eternity of nothing.”

Antonio leaned down and with one hand, hefted the man up. “Until you leave evil behind, Corus, you will be imprisoned, and the Warriors of the Wind will always fight to keep you there.”

Sophia’s hands joined Antonio’s, and together they pushed Corus into the storm. The tornado snatched the Tempest Wind away, and he screamed as it swallowed his body.

Antonio sliced his good arm through the air and the storm rose up into the sky and dissipated.

It was over.

Pain and bone-weary exhaustion hit Antonio like a train. He fell to his knees.

“Antonio!” Sophia screamed.

Chapter Eight

Sophia dropped to her knees beside Antonio. She’d been so elated that Corus was gone, but now her stomach plummeted.

“You’re hurt.” His arm was hanging limply at his side.

He grunted. “I’m fine, Sophia. The broken arm will heal in a few hours. I’m just tired.” He pushed into her, pressing his face to her hair. “I can’t believe Corus is finally gone.”

“You did it.”

His arm tightened on her. “We did it. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“I’m glad it’s over.”

She watched him lift his head and stare out over the glittering nightscape of Florence. “It’s not over yet. Two more Tempest Winds are still out there, spreading their darkness. We aren’t safe until my brothers hunt them down.”

“If your brothers are like you, I know they’ll succeed.”

Antonio sighed. “I hope my brothers are as lucky as I am, and find a gorgeous, sexy woman with Aurae blood to help them.”

She kissed him, drinking in the taste of him. Then she stilled, one hand drifting to her flat belly. “Is it really true?” She heard the faint tremor in her voice.

He gently laid his hand over hers. “Si, cara. It is very early, but our child rests inside you. I didn’t plan for this to happen and I’m—”

She pressed a finger to his lips, wonder filling her. “Shh. It feels like a miracle.”

“I know you lost a child before—”

She hugged him. “Yes. And I’ll always remember. But it’s time to move on and plan for the future. Us. Our child.”

He tangled his hand in her hair, and kissed her hard and deep. “Our child. Not made in lust, but in something that will grow deeper every day.”

She dropped her head to his shoulder. “We need to get out of here. I want to take a look at your arm and you need some rest.”

He dragged in a deep breath and together they pushed to their feet. “I think I have just enough left in me to get us home. Are you okay to travel as the wind?”

Her breath caught in her chest. “I didn’t have much of a chance to experience it before, when Corus took me. I was terrified.”

“It’s a strange sensation. I don’t want to scare you.”

“The baby?”

He smiled. “Will be fine.”

“Okay. Let’s do it. I just want to get home.”

He pulled her close and a wind swirled around them. For a second, Sophia felt like she was falling and she saw her hand blowing away on the wind.

Then they were flying.

Shock, wonder, and awe stormed through her. As they flew high above the city, delight washed through her and she felt his amusement. When he dipped them so low over the River Arno that water splashed them, she wanted to laugh.

But as they flew closer to his townhouse, she felt them drop suddenly. And she felt his strain.

God, he was running out of strength. Visions of them smashing into the ground filled her head.

All of a sudden, two strong gusts of wind blew up on either side of them. One was icy cold and the other was warmer. Antonio and Sophia were pushed higher, and moments later, they rematerialized on the balcony outside Antonio’s bedroom.

Two tall, broad, dark-haired men materialized on either side of them.

Both men wore dark trousers and white shirts. One emanated an air of authority, his hard, strong face dominated by intense ice-blue eyes. The other man was leaner and had a razor-sharp face, his gray eyes turbulent like a storm.

Antonio’s brothers.

“Are you okay, mio fratello?” the blue-eyed man asked.

“Yes, Luca. Just exhausted. Thanks for the ride.”

Luca nodded. “You’re injured.”

Antonio moved his arm. “It’s already healing.” He managed a tired smile. “Corus is gone.”

Luca gripped Antonio’s shoulder. “Well done.” Then that icy gaze swung to Sophia.

She automatically moved closer to Antonio. This might be Antonio’s brother, but something dark and angry lived in his eyes.

Antonio hauled her closer. “Luca, Soren, this is Sophia. She’s mine.”

Luca gave her a small nod. The still-silent Soren inclined his head.

“She is a talented art restorer and historian. A gorgeous, brave woman. An Aurae descendant who helped me defeat Corus.”

There were swift inhales from Antonio’s brothers.

“And the woman I’m falling in love with.” He smiled down at her. “And the mother of my child.”

The warm glow in his eyes made her heart swell. “I’m falling head over heels for you, too.”

“Child?” Soren said, his accent a little thicker than Antonio’s.

Antonio nodded. “It just happened.” He touched her belly. “A bambino.”

“Or bambina,” Sophia added.

Something close to wonder crossed Antonio’s face. God, she could picture him with a tiny, pig-tailed girl in his arms.

“That’s wonderful news.” Luca hugged his brother. Soren followed suit.

Sophia let the brothers have their moment. As she studied Antonio’s brothers more, her stomach tightened. Luca was tense. He reminded her of a caged predator, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Soren was quieter but his eyes spoke of stormy misery, and lines were etched on his face.

These men still had fights ahead of them, and she knew just how hard the Tempest Winds would make it for them.

“So, Sophia is Aurae,” Luca said.

She nodded. “I never knew. Although I’ve always been interested in the legends of the Warriors of the Wind.”

“She even called her breeze,” Antonio added.

“Once, and I wasn’t exactly in control of it. It was while Antonio and I…” she drifted off, feeling heat in her cheeks.

Luca’s lip quirked and Soren smiled.

“Thank you for helping my brother,” Luca said. His face darkened. “Soren and I have to go. Caecius and Apeliotus will work even harder to win now that they’ve lost the other two Tempest Winds.”

Sophia didn’t stop to think. She stepped between the men and grabbed their wrists. “Good luck and be careful.”

As she watched, the lines eased on Soren’s face and something warmed in Luca’s eyes.

“Dio, my head is quiet for the first time in weeks,” Luca muttered.

Soren’s gray eyes smoothed out, and he pulled in a breath. “Thank you, lovely Sophia.”

Then the men stepped back and with a nod, they turned into the wind and streamed into the night sky.

Antonio wrapped his arms around her. “Grazie, for giving them a moment of peace.”

“It was the least I could do.” Then she realized he was holding her with both arms. “Your arm!”

“It’s already healed.”

She released a breath. “Good.”

“Now, it’s time for a shower.”

She groaned. “That sounds so good.”

He nuzzled her throat. “Care to join me?” His body pushed against her and she felt the brush of his hard cock against her belly.

Sophia laughed. “Something tells me you really are feeling better.”

***

Antonio walked down the hall in the museum, nodding at a few employees that he passed.

It had been a week since he’d defeated Corus. A week since Florence had returned to normal.

A week since Sophia had moved into his home and become his.

He grinned and saw another passing employee eye him curiously. He didn’t care who knew how damn good he felt.

The only blot on his happiness was that Luca and Soren were still hunting. With each day, he heard the strain in their voices growing.

He quietly opened the door to Sophia’s workroom and then leaned against the doorway. Dio, he’d be happy to watch her for hours.

She was leaning over her worktable, her concentration on the painting she was restoring. Her dark hair was swept up in a neat twist, and she was wearing another of those fitted skirts that drove him crazy. This one was gray, topped with a pale pink shirt.

Silently, he moved up behind her, then he bent down and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

She jolted, then turned her head, a smile on her lips. “That must be my super-hot Italian boyfriend.” When he nipped her skin, she gasped. “You’d better not let my boss see you here.”

He pressed a hand to her belly. “How’s my bambino today?” An image of her swollen with their child flashed in his eyes.

“She or he is fine, I’m sure.”

Antonio leaned over her and picked up the painting. He swiveled and set it safely on the nearby shelf.

“What are you doing?” Sophia started to turn.

He stopped her, trapping her against her worktable. “I’ve imagined fucking you on this table so many times.”

Her breath hitched. “Really?”

Antonio’s cock hardened. It didn’t take much when he was around her. “But it won’t just be fucking.” He started peeling her skirt upward.

“What will it be?” she asked.

“I’ll love you. With everything I have, cara.” He bunched her skirt around her waist. “Have I told you how much I love these skirts?”

“A few times.” Her voice was breathy.

He slid her panties down, then delved his hand between her legs. He pushed her forward over the table, covering her so her spine was pressed against his chest. He ground his cock against her ass. “You are the most exquisite female I’ve ever known.”

“Hmm.” She pushed back against him, rubbing seductively. “Now say it in Italian.”

He laughed. He loved being with her. With Sophia, sex was never the same—sometimes fast and intense, sometimes slow and sensual, sometimes a rough, wild ride. And sometimes, like now, it was filled with love and laughter.

He ran his hands over her, whispering in Italian all the things he wanted to do to her. He flicked open her shirt and cupped her breasts, then he slid his hand down her belly, and dipped his fingers between her thighs. He eased a finger inside her, listening to her small breathy cries.

“You’re so wet, Sophia. Is this for me?”

When he found the little nub nestled in her folds, he thumbed it, and she jerked against him.

“Yes! Please, Antonio, I want you inside me—”

“Not yet, cara. Come for me first.”

One more flick on her clit and her release hit. Her back arched, her throaty cries echoing in the small room.

Need roared through him. He had to have her. He quickly opened his trousers, freeing his aching cock. He leaned forward, watching the blunt head rub through the crack of her ass. He clamped a hand on her hip and then sank his cock inside her warmth.

She moaned and he gritted his teeth to keep from coming there and then. She felt so good. His own private heaven.

He surged in and out of her, feeling her ripple around his cock. He watched her lovely profile, seeing all the emotions cross her face. A life spent watching that face, being able to wake up to it every day, would make him the luckiest man alive.

A small, flirty breeze caressed his face and ruffled his hair. He smiled. She was still learning her powers, and he loved teaching her. He felt the pressure building at the base of his spine. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Suddenly she gasped, her body clamping down on him. As she moaned through another orgasm, his own climax rocketed through him like a hurricane.

He shouted, his fingers digging into her hips.

He collapsed over her, pinning her to her worktable. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and was rewarded with a tiny moan.

“I love you, Sophia,” he murmured.

She turned her head and he saw her smile. Her cheeks were flushed. “Lucky, because I’m going to get big soon, and I expect you to cook for me and give me foot rubs. You know, spoil me rotten.” She ran a finger down his nose. “And I’m at least ninety-nine percent in love with you.”

He smiled. “I’d better get to work making you fall that last percent.

She pressed her lips to his. “I knew the moment I saw you that you’d seduce me.”

He kissed her back. “Into my bed, into my life, into my heart.”

Antonio held Sophia tight—his heart, his soul, his mate. With her by his side, he’d never be a victim to his vice again. He sent a silent prayer out for Luca and Soren. More than anything, he wanted the Tempest Winds defeated and his brothers free of their torment.

For now, all Antonio could do was focus on making his life together with Sophia. And ensuring their child would only know love.

---

I hope you enjoyed Antonio and Sophia’s story!

The stories of the Warriors of the Wind were some of the first stories I ever wrote and published. I wanted to mix action, mythology, and romance into sexy, short reads. I am so excited to have the chance to give them a little polish and release them again.

Warriors of the Wind continues with FURY & DARKNESS, which contains two novellas, one starring Luca Venti, Warrior of the North Wind, and the other starring Soren Venti, Warrior of the East Wind. Read on for a sneak peek of Luca’s story, Fury. FURY & DARKNESS is coming August 2017.

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Sneak Peek: Fury
(from Fury & Darkness)

“Everyone out.” Luca Aquilon Venti thrust his hand toward the door. “Now.”

At his sharp command, the employees sitting around the large boardroom table either froze or shifted uneasily. Luca scowled. His people at the head office of Venti Enterprises Rome were used to his fierce temper and abrupt orders, but the employees at Venti Enterprises Venice were not.

“Out.” He watched as looks of shock were quickly smothered. Folders were closers, papers shuffled, then they filed out.

All except one.

Steady, cool green eyes watched him. Her stylus was poised over her tablet. “Is there anything else you require today, Signor Venti?”

Even his new personal assistant’s voice was cool with the faintest tinge of an English accent. His fingers curled. Damn, Pietro for falling ill. Luca didn’t want to break in a new personal assistant. Especially one who inflamed his already stretched temper. He had enough problems without also wanting to mess up her sleek swing of chin-length red hair. Or to get some sort of reaction out of her. Any reaction.

He’d yelled at her plenty of times this week and she’d barely blinked.

Si, something about Rayne Santini rubbed him the wrong way. Although during the last six weeks everything had rubbed him the wrong way.

Rayne crossed her long legs, the movement catching Luca’s attention. Her gray suit was stylish but hardly provocative. Still, it fired something in his blood. Something he knew he didn’t have time for right now. He shoved his chair back and stood. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into the tailored garment. “No. I’m going for a walk.”

“As you wish.”

Dio, that frosty tone grated. What would it take to see a bit of fire in this woman? He huffed out a breath. Not something he should be worrying about.

He had bigger problems. Like tracking down the evil Northeast Wind, Caecius. Cazzo, it had been over a month and a half since the Tempest Winds had escaped from them prison and the Keeper of the Winds, Luca’s brother, Lorenzo.

So far, two of his brothers, Dante and Antonio, had succeeded in hunting and defeating their Tempest Winds. But Luca’s prey, Caecius, was cunning. He’d been lying very, very low like the snake he was.

Luca realized his hands were clenched so tight his knuckles were hurting. He forced them to relax. “Get the Rossi report to me in the morning.” He stalked to the door, flexing his shoulders.

He had to get out of the confines of the office and do something physical. He needed to feel the wind around him. Anything to shake off the nasty vice of anger that was eating him alive from the inside. Caecius spread the vice of the anger, and now Luca battled every day not to become the violent, furious man he knew lived inside him.

I will find you, Caecius. The Tempest Wind was here in Venice. Somewhere. He might be hidden, but he was still stirring up anger in the locals. He was pushing tempers to breaking point, causing fights, brawls, and terrible domestic violence. Luca sensed the fury on the wind.

His jaw clenched. Air. He needed some air.

“Signor Venti?”

He frowned. “I’ve told you to call me Luca.”

Rayne fell into step beside him, her green gaze on his face. “I asked if you wanted me to make the reservation at Da Fiore for the weekend…Signor Venti.”

His eyes narrowed. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was testing him…and testing his patience. “What?”

She raised a brow. “For you and Signorina Barzini.”

Dio, he’d forgotten about the leggy model who’d refused to leave him alone at the last charity event he’d attended. “Call her and cancel. Send her flowers.”

“Si.” That icy-cool tone again.

For a second, Luca wanted to reach out and wrap a hand around her slim throat. Would he feel the hot, fast tick of her pulse? Or would it be slow, even, and unaffected by him?

Air hissed through his teeth. It was the vice biting at him. He needed to focus on finding Caecius, not thinking about tangling with his new assistant. “I’ll be at my suite at the Hotel Venti San Marco, if you need me.”

She gave him a brisk nod and turned.

Instead of immediately leaving and heading into the street to search for the scent of his prey, Luca stayed there and watched the sway of Rayne’s hips as she walked away.

Merda. He forced himself to walk into the elevator. Moments later, he strode out of the building and onto the streets of Venice.

Fury & Darkness – coming August 2017

In the aftermath of a deadly alien invasion, a band of survivors fights on…

In a world gone to hell, Elle Milton—once the darling of the Sydney social scene—has carved a role for herself as the communications officer for the toughest commando team fighting for humanity’s survival—Hell Squad. It’s her chance to make a difference and make up for horrible past mistakes…despite the fact that its battle-hardened commander never wanted her on his team.

When Hell Squad is tasked with destroying a strategic alien facility, Elle knows they need her skills in the field. But first she must go head to head with Marcus Steele and convince him she won’t be a liability.

Marcus Steele is a warrior through and through. He fights to protect the innocent and give the human race a chance to survive. And that includes the beautiful, gutsy Elle who twists him up inside with a single look. The last thing he wants is to take her into a warzone, but soon they are thrown together battling both the alien invaders and their overwhelming attraction. And Marcus will learn just how much he’ll sacrifice to keep her safe.

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Devlin

Theron

Hemi

Also by Anna Hackett

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Galactic Gladiators

Gladiator

Warrior

Hero

Protector

Champion

Barbarian

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Theron

Hemi

The Anomaly Series

Time Thief

Mind Raider

Soul Stealer

Salvation

Anomaly Series Box Set

The Phoenix Adventures

Among Galactic Ruins

At Star’s End

In the Devil’s Nebula

On a Rogue Planet

Beneath a Trojan Moon

Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

On a Cyborg Planet

Return to Dark Earth

On a Barbarian World

Lost in Barbarian Space

Through Uncharted Space

Perma Series

Winter Fusion

Warriors of the Wind

Tempest

Storm & Seduction

Fury & Darkness

Standalone Titles

Savage Dragon

Hunter’s Surrender

One Night with the Wolf

Anthologies

A Galactic Holiday

Moonlight (UK only)

Vampire Hunter (UK only)

Awakening the Dragon (UK Only)

For more information visit AnnaHackettBooks.com

About the Author

I’m a USA Today bestselling author and I’m passionate about action romance. I love stories that combine the thrill of falling in love with the excitement of action, danger and adventure. I’m a sucker for that moment when the team is walking in slow motion, shoulder-to-shoulder heading off into battle. I write about people overcoming unbeatable odds and achieving seemingly impossible goals. I like to believe it’s possible for all of us to do the same.

My books are mixture of action, adventure and sexy romance and they’re recommended for anyone who enjoys fast-paced stories where the boy wins the girl at the end (or sometimes the girl wins the boy!)

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Website: AnnaHackettBooks.com