by Anna Hackett
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 h
ave 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 dow
n. 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.