by Anna Hackett
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 his pain and sorrow into the wind.
He’d failed.
***
Sophia pushed against the wind. It was so strong! It made the few feet between her and Antonio seem 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 his fight.
Something hit her head with a glancing blow. She ignored it and kept moving. She had to reach him.
But the wind was far too strong. She could no longer see Corus but she knew he was there. Could feel the oily sludge of his presence. She dropped to the ground.
On her hands and knees, she crawled closer. Then she saw Antonio’s face. The veins in his neck stood out, his eyes were closed and his face was caught in a grimace. A man on the edge.
“Antonio!” The wind snatched her scream away.
But his eyes snapped open, 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 her veins, but instead of running, she reached out. She wrapped her hand around his arm. His skin felt scorching hot.
“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 leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
He was still for a second, then he groaned and his arms wrapped around her like bands of iron.
Shocking sensation crashed through Sophia. He tasted so good. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she returned each kiss, every urgent stroke. Nothing had ever felt this right.
The wind still howled, circling around them, shutting them out from the world.
His hands slid down her sides, and she pressed hers to his hard shoulders, smoothing over tense muscles. She thought she felt him relax, just a fraction.
His palms circled her waist, almost spanning it, and he pulled her closer. The 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 flooded between her legs. He took her mouth again, his hands sliding upward and inside her shirt, tracing her collarbone.
He slid his mouth down to her throat and the rapid pulse beating there. She pressed into him, shocked at the small husky 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. “Too rough—”
“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 stubble on his cheeks. “You can do this.”
Something swirled in his eyes. Then he nodded.
She watched him stride into the wailing maelstrom, her heart jumping into her throat. Was he strong enough to face his enemy?
Sophia stood on shaky feet. She saw debris caught in the swirling wind—paintings, candlesticks, glass. Power throbbed in the air.
And Corus’s laughter was carried on the gusts—the sound full of satisfaction.
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. Saw the Tempest Wind only a few feet away.
He winked. “Nighty, night.” He twirled a hand around in a strange gesture.
A huge funnel of wind burst out in the air and caught her.
It picked her up, turned her over. Her scream was eaten by the gale and then she slammed into a huge mirror that shattered with her impact.
Pain exploded through her head, her entire body. As she hit the floor, struggling to stay conscious, she heard Antonio’s agonized roar, amplified by the wind.
Then dark claws sank into her head and dragged her into darkness.
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’s little club.
“Hang in there, bella.” 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. He shifted Sophia and 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 lay 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 alcohol 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’s sights. Next he studied her arm and shoulder and saw the small pieces of glass embedded in her skin. His jaw tightened but he fought to keep his touch light as he used some tweezers to remove the mirror shards.
“You’ve never been here before,” she said. “How did you know where I live?”
It took him a second to focus on the change of subject. “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.” She cleared her throat. “Tell me about your brothers. What vices do they battle?”
Antonio cleaned her remaining cuts. “Dante battles pride, Soren fights greed and Luca wars with anger. Since the Tempest Winds were freed, it’s much worse for all of us.”
She moved her head a little, not quite turning, but giving him a view of her profile. “How did these evil winds get free?”
Her calm, quiet voice washed over him and desire rose. He ruthlessly shoved it down and stared at the blood smudged on her cheek. “They escaped their Keeper at their prison on Isola del Vento.”
“Your island that’s home to the Venti horse breeding operation?”
He nodded. “The woman who runs it, Livia Cavalli,
is the Keeper of the Winds. Or she was. Her powers are gone now. A new warden will be appointed once we recapture the Venti Tempesta.”
He watched Sophia swallow. “How will you do that?”
“They must be freed from their mortal bodies. Then my brothers and I will summon a storm to trap them back on the island. Dante has already succeeded in beating his wind.”
Now Antonio had to do the same. Before more people were hurt.
His hand clenched in her hair. He would keep Sophia safe.
“I’ve always been fascinated by the WindKeepers, drawn to the legends.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe it’s all real.”
He shrugged. “WindKeepers have existed since the dawn of time, ever since the gods created them to care for the winds. I just wish the Tempest Winds had never existed.”
“Who created them?”
“The gods as well. Something about creating a balance.” Her fascination could get her hurt. “I’ll 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.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged it from her hair. “No.”
Antonio sat back, dropping the bloodstained wipe on the coffee table. “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.”
Antonio closed his eyes. Away from Corus he felt much better but being so close to Sophia left his control shaky. “You should never have touched me.”
“My brain was telling me that—” she shook her head “—but…something inside me urged me forward.”
Antonio’s chest was tight with a morass of emotion. “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, pulling her into him, pushing his face close to hers. “You don’t know me. A month of working in my museum doesn’t mean you can see the real me.” And thankfully, she couldn’t see the ugly beat of lust. “All I have to offer is my ability to destroy Corus.”
“And kill yourself in the process?” She pushed him away and rose shakily. “I can hear it in your voice. You don’t expect to survive Corus.”
Antonio’s jaw tightened. “I will do what I have to do to protect the world.” To protect this woman who touched something inside him.
She paced a few steps, her arms spread. “I can help you. I’ve been researching the WindKeepers for years. Maybe there’s something in my notes—”
Antonio rose. “I don’t want your help.” He advanced on her, and when she backed up, he felt no satisfaction. When her back hit the wall, he continued until they were plastered together. Her eyes widened and he felt the gentle heat of her on his bare chest. Once again his body responded, hardening to the point of pleasure-pain. “What I want is to fuck you, Sophia. Sink my cock so far inside you that you’ll never forget the sensation.”
She sucked in a breath.
He tried not to, but he had to touch her. Just a little. He nuzzled her neck, drew 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 always feeling like he was losing.
“I just want to screw your brains out. That’s all I want from you.” He looked up, saw tears glistening in her eyes. The sight cut through him. “Is that what your married lover said to you?”
“You bastard.” A shaky whisper.
Antonio couldn’t give up now. “Is that all he wanted?”
One glistening tear slipped down her cheek. “He told me 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, hold her, soothe her. But even as his hands shook, he kept his mouth shut. Maybe if he destroyed this thing between then, then he could finally keep her safe.
“You’d make a good one.”
She slapped him. The sound was loud in her small apartment. “I was pregnant when James’s 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 into the shadows.
Looking up, he saw her curtain fluttering in the gentle breeze. She deserved so much better than him. He wanted more for her.
He leaned against the weathered brick. 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 of leaving, of never seeing her again, made him feel like his insides had been carved out with sharp claws.
Apparently he did feel something more than lust.
Misery.
***
Sophia stepped outside her building and blinked in the sunlight. After a night spent tossing, turning and twisting her sheets into a horrid mess, she knew she looked tired. She couldn’t remember feeling this…sad, not since she’d lost her baby.
Maybe 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. She made it one block before she realized someone was following her. Quickening her steps, 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 pale.
He shrugged. “Long night.”
She knew in an instant he’d watched her place all night. Damn it, 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. “Yes. You are.”
Oh, no. She was done letting any man—whether it be an evil Tempest Wind or a sexy, infuriating WindKeeper—rule her life. She pressed her hands to Antonio’s chest and shoved him back. “I don’t take orders from you.”
She spun and headed toward the museum. Antonio followed behind her, a dark, brooding presence. At the museum, he headed to his office and she went to her workroom.
Several hours later, Sophia dipped her paintbrush in the water pot and watched the red paint diffuse into the water. She leaned over the painting, staring at the damaged part she was restoring.
The face of the Keeper of the West Wind, Favonius.
In the painting he stood tall and proud. In control. Like nothing could touch him. But time and water had ravaged the paint, leaving it cracked and worn.
Just like the real-life man.
It was still a shock to realize she’d finally discovered the truth of her quest. She’d always imagined the WindKeepers as all-powerful, almost god-like. Now she knew they were men. With thoughts, feelings, strengths and weaknesses.
With a sigh, Sophia 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 since they’d arrived.
She sighed and set her brush down. How much longer could he hold out against the lust? She bit down on her lip. Even though he’d hurt her, she hated
that he was suffering.
Sophia. Her name drifted on the wind. A light breeze ruffled her hair.
Goose bumps covered her skin like a rash. She scanned her small workroom. Nothing but shadows.
Then she saw one 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’s 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, touched 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 fine.
She knew he 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 WindKeeper 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 he had more in him than that. In a shining moment of clarity, she realized what he’d said to her the night before was what he believed, but it wasn’t the truth. Her eyes snapped open.
And she looked into Corus’s smug gaze.