by Anna Hackett
Suddenly he stiffened. The muscles in his arms tensed and he gritted his teeth.
“Soren?”
“The whispers.” He slammed his palms down on the desk.
Skye jumped. God, that tortured look on his face. “What do they want?”
“They want me to give in. They urge me to take.” He lifted his head, a dark fire burning in his eyes. “And I want.”
She swallowed. “What do you want?’
“Everything.” Abruptly, he turned and strode to the French doors. He flung them open and stepped onto a wide stone terrace.
A crack of thunder echoed overhead and rain started to pelt down. A vicious wind whipped across the surface of the lake, making it churn.
Skye swallowed again. Apeliotus was near.
Soren strode out into the storm. He raised his arms like he was beseeching the boiling gray clouds to listen. To answer.
He looked like a wind god now. In times long ago, the WindKeepers had been considered gods, worshipped for their powers.
Soren was so close to losing this fight.
Gathering her courage, Skye strode out onto the terrace. She was soaked in an instant, her clothes plastered against her skin. “Soren!”
The wind whipped her cry away. She continued on, pushing against the gale. She glanced up, saw the mad swirling clouds above them.
Someone else was stirring them.
She ran now. “Soren!”
She stopped near him. His big body was shaking, his eyes were closed.
“I want it all. I need more, more.” His voice was a broken cry.
She reached out a hand. “Everything won’t make you happy.” Her mother had offered her things, clothes, toys to make amends. None of it had made Skye feel better.
Soren swung to face her. “What will?”
Her gaze collided with his. “I don’t know. All I know is that often it’s the little things that make the biggest difference.” She wasn’t sure where she found the courage, but she dredged up all she had and slipped her hand into his.
He stared at her face, then at their joined hands. His fingers clenched on hers.
As she watched, she saw some of the tension leave his body.
“Maybe you’re right, little rabbit.” He reeled her in, pulling her close.
He was big. Male. Vibrating with energy.
Everything that terrified her.
But the hand on hers was still clenched hard around her fingers. A silent plea for help.
“Let’s get out of the rain,” she said.
With a nod, he pulled her inside.
***
Soren moved into the main living area. He felt the greed choking him, filling him, running in his veins. His vision was glazed in a haze of red.
He realized he was squeezing Skye’s hand hard enough to hurt her. Dio. He loosened his grip. But he didn’t let her go. He couldn’t.
He heard her humming and he froze. Slowly he turned his head to look down at her. Her hair was plastered against her head, now shades darker than its usual color. She’d let her eyes drift shut and her humming increased in volume.
The melody was somehow familiar, haunting. It sank into him.
The humming turned to singing. She had a beautiful voice. So strong and confident, and clear as a mountain stream.
Slowly, he felt the tension inside him drain away. The roaring need to have, to own and possess, dulled to a distant throb. A murmur, no longer a rampant shout.
Skye’s song ended and she fell silent.
“Your voice is beautiful.”
She flicked a glance up at him. “Thank you. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”
“I’m sure that isn’t true.” His gaze drifted over her. He couldn’t help but notice how her once baggy clothes, now soaking wet, clung to very feminine curves.
His fingers moved from her hand, along her wrist and up to cup her elbow. She stilled, like a deer staring at bright lights.
He lifted his other hand and gently brushed the shell of her ear. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No. Yes.” She huffed out a little breath. “Not of you exactly.” Her blue eyes were turbulent. “I have demons too.”
Soren traced along her cheekbone. He wanted more, much more, but he kept his touch gentle. And it was enough. For now. He ran a finger down the sweet slope of her nose. “Does that scare you?”
She shook her head.
He moved his finger along her jaw and pointed chin. “What about this?”
“No.” A soft whisper.
He let his hand circle her nape, massaged. “Your skin is so soft here.”
She trembled under his touch and he knew it wasn’t from fear. Then he noted the heavy weight of her wet hair and registered that some of her shivers weren’t because of him.
Idiot. “You’re wet and cold. Come, I’ll get you some dry clothes.”
He grabbed her hand again and tugged her into the hall. Moments later, he led her into a guest bedroom.
She gasped. “This room is beautiful. So grand.”
He glanced at the intricate four poster bed and the elegant furniture. He’d never really paid it any attention before. He tried to see it through her eyes. “Si, it is.”
He stalked into the adjoining bathroom and grabbed two thick towels. After handing one to her, he rubbed the other over his wet hair and headed for the closet. He opened the carved wooden doors and studied the well-stocked offerings.
“So many items of women’s clothing.” She eyed the closet. “Do you have many female…visitors?”
He frowned. “I have no idea.” And he didn’t care. All he wanted was to see her in something other than baggy beige.
Soren pulled out a dress. It was simple, elegant and would slick over her gentle curves with perfection. The sea blue would match her eyes. “Here.”
Skye took the dress. “Thank you.”
They stood there staring at each other for a moment. He motioned to the dress. “Get changed.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not changing with you standing there.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Soren! That’s not…” she straightened her shoulders. “Because I said so.”
He smiled. “Ah, the little rabbit has teeth.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He gestured to the corner behind her. “You can change over there.”
She glanced over her shoulder and spied the folding screen. It partitioned off one corner of the room and was covered in a lovely design that showed the lake and a villa on its edge, covered in ivy and flowers.
She moved behind the panel and started to pull off her wet clothes. Soren leaned back against the wall with a smile playing about his lips. He refrained from telling her the screen was translucent. He couldn’t see any details but her lovely figure left a wonderful, tempting silhouette.
His body tightened, and for the first time he felt a rush of something that wasn’t pure greed.
His smile flickered. At least he hoped the desire burning inside was clean and pure, not just another need twisted by greed.
Whatever it was that was driving him, all he knew was that he wanted Skye.
Chapter Three
Skye fingered the beautiful fabric of the dress as she walked into the sumptuous living area. The garment was so silky. And far tighter than her usual clothes.
The color was gorgeous. A bright blue that had a slight shimmer. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the large mirror on the wall. With her damp hair pulled back, her face was on full display, as were all her curves, courtesy of the dress.
She looked pretty.
The scrape of metal on stone made her look away. She watched Soren stoke the fire he’d lit in the large marble fireplace. He stood, but his shoulders stayed stooped. He started to pace, his fingertips massaging his temples.
Power emanated off him, but she could feel the suffering entwined with it. Greed was wrapping its grasping hands around him again.
&n
bsp; She knew that back in the bedroom had been the perfect opportunity to seduce him. Her belly fluttered at the memory. He’d wanted to watch her change…but she just hadn’t been able to do it. Hadn’t wanted to trick him.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
A quick shake of his head. “No.” The hand by his side clenched, released, clenched.
“I can sing for you again.”
He paused, his head slowly rising. “Yes. I want you to sing.”
Skye sank into a large armchair and curled her feet up under her. She sang an old Aurae song in Italian. A song about the WindKeepers and the gentle seasonal breezes that soothed and lightened their burden.
She kept her gaze on Soren. One of his hands gripped the back of the sofa, but as she sang, he relaxed his hold, his eyes closing. Soon, he moved closer and sat on the armchair beside hers.
When the song was over, gentle silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the occasional pop and crackle of the flames from the fireplace.
Soren’s gaze was locked on her. “That song…”
“It’s about the WindKeepers.”
A line scored his brow. “I’m a WindKeeper.”
“Yes. You obviously know you control the wind, the East Wind. You’re one of four brothers born to a long line who have protected the world from the Venti Tempesta.”
His brow furrowed more. “When you were singing, the greed backed away. I could almost remember who I was.” His shoulders slumped. “Now it’s gone.”
“It’ll come back. We’ll keep trying.”
“Maybe I don’t want my memory back. What if I discover I’m always greedy, always wanting more and more?” He stood and strode to the window. “I want to believe I’m not always like this.”
Skye smiled sadly. “Sometimes we just have to accept ourselves, flaws and all. I’m always scared, timid, too shy to tell anyone what I want.”
He spun around. “Someone hurt you.”
She looked away. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay.”
She looked back, thankful he wasn’t going to push. Memory or no, she had a suspicion that Soren Venti liked getting his own way.
“Would you like to play a game?” he asked.
She spied the gorgeous silver chess set on a small side table. “Chess? Cards?”
“How about poker?”
“I’m not very good, but sure.”
He moved closer, a glint in his eyes. “Strip poker.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I enjoyed watching you take your clothes off. It’s mesmerizing.”
“You didn’t watch me—” she narrowed her eyes “—I was behind the screen.”
A tiny smile played on his lips. “Si, you were.”
She sat up straighter. “I am not playing strip poker.”
“We can skip the game and go straight to the part where you kiss me.”
Her heart gave a huge leap in her chest. “You’re crazy.”
“That’s likely.” He moved even closer, until he was kneeling in front of her chair, crowding her in. “Something about you calls to me and I seem helpless to resist.”
He was so big. Heat emanated off him in waves. That lean face was more compelling than anything she’d ever seen. He gripped the armrests, caging her in.
“Have you ever kissed a man, Skye?”
Dark memories rose, choking her. “I…I—”
“No.” Soren’s hands cupped her cheeks and forced her gaze to meet his. “I mean have you ever made the decision? If something was stolen from you, that isn’t your fault. Have you ever chosen to put your lips on another’s?”
“No.” A whisper. Her gaze dropped to his lips. Perfectly shaped and ridiculously full for a man.
“Do you want to make that choice?”
***
Soren watched Skye nibble on her bottom lip. He wanted her to choose him.
For the moment, the constant whispers were silent—a reprieve for which he was thankful. With them in his head, they’d demand he take what he wanted from her, heedless of what Skye wanted.
For some reason, her choosing him was important.
She licked her lips now, her tongue darting out to tease him. “Yes, I want to kiss you.”
He scooped her out of the chair and sat with her in his lap. She went stiff for a second but then relaxed. “This is all you, cara. Whatever you want.” He touched her hair. Now it was drying it was once again an angelic shade of gold. “Whenever you want it.”
She lifted a hand and traced his face.
Then her hands cupped his cheeks and she leaned forward. She paused, took a deep breath, and pressed her lips to his.
For a second neither of them moved. Soren’s hands tightened on the armrests and he forced himself not to take what he wanted.
Her mouth moved over his, gentle and delicate, as she took her time to explore him. Her hands slid into his hair and a tiny moan escaped her. Soren strained against the desire roaring through him. Easy. Easy. He opened her mouth with his and deepened the kiss.
She moaned again, pressing into him. Her breasts felt so good against his chest. His cock had hardened to the point of pain. He was so turned on, wanted her so much, but he forced himself to take it easy. With great difficulty, he pulled back. “How was that?”
Her eyes were a little unfocused, her hands still clenched in his hair. “Wonderful.”
He disengaged her hands and sat back in the chair. She watched him with a tempting look of confusion and frustration on her face.
“I want you sing for me again,” he said.
“What?” She frowned, shifting in his lap. “You’re ordering me to sing?”
“A request.”
She sighed, and started to move from his lap.
He gripped her arm. “Stay. If you want.”
She hesitated, but then relaxed against him. Then she sang.
As her lilting voice filled the room, Soren settled back against the chair. As the song filtered through him, he watched her face and all the emotion crossing it. It intrigued him, entranced him. He wanted to feel everything she did. More than just the driving greed consuming him.
A memory burst into his head. Watching three boys running ahead of him. Shouts, teasing taunts, the oldest boy with bright blue eyes holding out a hand to Soren to pull him up.
The sound of clapping filled the room. “Bravo.”
Skye’s voice cut off and Soren pushed to his feet, setting her aside. A man stood just outside the doors to the terrace, partly hidden by the shadows of the dying day. He leaned against the wall, watching them.
He was tall, with wide shoulders, a shaved head and golden eyes. He was smiling but it didn’t show in those burnished eyes.
“A pretty little songbird you have, Venti. I hope you’ll share.”
Skye made a tight noise in her throat. Soren saw fear etched on her face.
He looked back at the man. “Who are you?”
The man’s smile sharpened. “Oh, you must be very, very far gone to have forgotten everything. You’re so close to joining me in the embracing the greed.”
“Who are you?” Soren repeated.
“Apeliotus,” Skye said. “He’s one of the Venti Tempesta.”
Soren kept watch on the intruder.
“He’s the keeper of Southeast Wind and its vice of greed.” Her gaze alighted on Soren. “He wants you to join him.”
Apeliotus moved away from the wall and stepped inside. “Together we’d be unstoppable. We could have everything we wanted.”
Soren felt his gut tighten. A quickening.
“We can amass a fortune, take every little thing we wanted. No one could stop us.”
The Tempest Wind’s voice was compelling. He promised everything the deep, dark desires crouching within Soren wanted.
“You wouldn’t need a woman like her. You could have a harem of willing women far more clever and beautiful.”
Soren frowned. Skye
was beautiful. And clever.
“Buxom brunettes, svelte redheads, leggy blondes. Whatever you wanted, WindKeeper, we’d find them and take them.”
Soren liked blonde hair. Hair that looked like champagne. “I want you gone. Now.”
Apeliotus frowned. “Riches. Women. Power. Isn’t that what you want?”
Si. No. Soren looked at Skye, her eyes were wide and her cheeks pale. He hated that she was afraid.
“What I want is for you to get out of my house.” Soren lifted his hands.
The East Wind rushed into the room in a chaotic, humid swirl. It pushed at the Tempest Wind, knocking him back several steps.
“It’s her,” Apeliotus hissed. “She clouds you, drowns your vice.” He shot her a venomous look. “Meddling Aurae.”
He raised his own hands and the Southeast Wind rose up, tangling with Soren’s power.
The Tempest Wind charged forward. But before Soren could react, Apeliotus grabbed Skye’s arms and yanked her to him. He turned to the French doors and Skye screamed.
Soren raced forward but Apeliotus was running, Skye struggling in his arms.
“No!”
The Tempest Wind launched into the air, pushed up by his wind. Skye’s screams grew louder.
Soren sprinted across the terrace, desperate to reach her.
Apeliotus flew up above the gray, churning lake. Then, in a sharp change in direction, he sped downward, diving into the cold waters.
Taking Skye with him.
Chapter Four
Skye flailed her arms. Cold water closed in around her, filling her mouth and nose.
Apeliotus arrowed downward, pulling her farther into the dark, cold depths. She fought against his hold, but he was too strong. Her hair floated in the water across her face.
Her chest burned. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, bubbles rising in front of her face. Water flowed into her mouth. Choking, she continued to fight.
Lethargy crept in, making her movements slower, uncoordinated. A strange clarity clicked into place and she stared into the dark waters of the lake, wondering what lay ahead.
She thought of her sister. Oh, Rayne. Her sister would blame herself for this.
Then Skye remembered the vivid taste of Soren, the feel of that kiss. Her hand clenched in the water. For the first time in her life, she’d touched a man without the horrors of her past rising up. All she’d thought about was him and how she’d felt, the desire, the heat deep inside.