by Elle James
She didn’t hesitate for a second, but fell into his arms.
Finally, she’d come home.
Ronin couldn’t believe his eyes, but the proof he held against his body convinced him he wasn’t living a dream. Isabella was pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“I never thought I’d find you,” he whispered against her hair.
“I thought you were a dream,” she said.
He chuckled, a happiness so pure filling him to full and overflowing. Ronin lifted her into the air and swung her around. Then he set her on the ground and kissed her like there would be no tomorrow.
She returned the kiss with a ferocity he didn’t recognize. Isabella had lost weight, and her body was sinewy, her muscles tight.
When he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened to him, meeting his tongue with a warm, wet caress. She tasted of mint and coffee.
Ronin lifted his head and drank in the sight of her.
She’d cut her long wavy hair to shoulder-length. Her face was leaner and there were two new scars. One near her mouth, the other across her cheekbone.
He thumbed the one by her mouth. “This is new.”
She laughed and ran her hand over his face. “And so are these.” Her eyebrows dipped, and she stepped back, running her gaze over him from head to toe. “Are you all right? Have you been in some pretty bad firefights?”
Ronin shrugged. He didn’t want to think about all that had happened in the past two years. “Nothing unusual.” He narrowed his eyes, studying her scars. “How did you get these scars?” He brushed the scarf back from her face, and it fell onto her shoulders.
“Nothing unusual,” she echoed. Isabella glanced away, fumbling with the light blue fabric, trying to pull it up over her head.
A man in a jester’s costume danced by, caught the end of her scarf and spun away.
Isabella gasped and grabbed for it.
Ronin yelled, “Hey!”
The jester flung the blue wisp of fabric into the air. A breeze caught it, and it drifted to the ground.
Isabella ducked her head, her hair falling over her face as she lunged for the ground.
Ronin dropped down to his haunches, reaching the garment first.
Over their heads a loud crack could be heard, followed by the sound of rapid-fire explosions.
Isabella flatted herself to the ground.
Ronin fell on top of her, shielding her body from attack.
Women screamed, and the crowd surged toward the exits.
People tripped and fell over them. Ronin knew they’d be trampled to death if they stayed on the ground. He hooked his arm around Isabella’s waist and scooped her off the ground.
She held onto the scarf and ran alongside him.
Ronin glanced around, searching for the best way out of the piazza. As he panned the area, his gaze landed on the jumbo-tron display screen. The screen was wrecked, with gaping holes ripped through its center.
Overhead, more bursts exploded, raining confetti down on the piazza.
People stopped running and laughed. Some raised their hands to the confetti and danced around.
Ronin realized some of the blasts were confetti being launched into the air. But confetti couldn’t have destroyed the jumbo-tron. Could it?
While others stopped running and resumed their celebration, Ronin hurried Isabella out of the piazza. If a confetti bomb could destroy a screen, he could only imagine what it could do if it hit a person.
Once out of the piazza, Isabella paused long enough to wrap the scarf over her hair and halfway across her face. Then she led the way through the streets.
Ronin followed, unsure of where she was taking him, but trusting that she knew where she was going. When they arrived in front of Hotel Eden, Ronin smiled. “You remembered.”
Isabella didn’t pause to respond. She glanced in both directions, and then dove for the door.
Once inside, she spoke in rapid Italian to the clerk at the small desk tucked into a corner. The young clerk shook his head. She spoke again, and the clerk raised his hands, palms up.
Isabella sighed. “They have no rooms available.”
Ronin’s lips twitched upward on the corners. “Let me try.” He turned to the clerk. “Prenotazione per Magnus.”
The clerk looked down at his computer screen, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. “Ronin Magnus?” He glanced up.
Ronin smiled. “Sì.”
Isabella’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “This is Carnival. Rooms are impossible to find. You had to have made that reservation months ago.”
He shrugged. “I did. I knew I’d be in Ireland for my brother’s wedding, so I scheduled more leave after the wedding and booked my hotel here in Venice.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
Before he could answer, the clerk handed him a key and gave him the room number.
The old hotel had no elevator, and his room was on the third floor. He led the way up the narrow, wooden staircase, knowing this structure wouldn’t pass building codes in the US. At the top of the stairs were three doors, none of which were the number on the key tag he held in his hand.
Having been there two years ago, Ronin knew to go through the middle door, which led into a hallway with three more doors and a floor-to-ceiling mirror at the end of the hallway.
Isabella chuckled behind him. “You got the same room?”
He nodded. “I asked for it, specifically.” Then he pushed the mirror, and it folded like an accordion, revealing yet three more doors. The last door on the right was his destination. He pressed the key into the lock.
Isabella covered his hand with hers. “Why did you come here?”
He turned to her, gripped her arms and stared down into her eyes. “I came to find you.”
3
Isabella’s heart leaped into her throat, and her eyes stung. As she’d walked through the streets of Venice, she’d known in the back of her mind she’d been looking for Ronin. More than anything, she wanted to recapture what she’d felt when she’d been in his arms.
After all she’d gone through, all the training, the rescues, being captured, and then losing her mentor, Isabella knew she couldn’t go back to being the person she’d once been. Nor did she want to.
But she didn’t feel comfortable in her old home, living with her father, being under constant guard and worrying about potential kidnappers. More than that, she worried she might have brought her own hell back from Syria.
With a price on her head, she might bring chaos to her father’s house. Just because she’d made it out of Syria didn’t mean ISIS would give up looking for her. She’d rescued many women, killed many ISIS rebels, and had even been responsible for the death of Haji, the brother of Abu Ahmad al-Jahashi, an influential ISIS leader.
Abu Ahmad had sworn his vengeance on her. It would be only a matter of time before they found her.
She couldn’t be certain, but the explosion in the piazza, before the confetti bombs, might have been someone aiming for her. The burst had occurred at the same time she’d made a dive for her scarf.
Then again, it could have been a coincidence. But the one thing Isabella had learned during her year as the Angel of Mercy was that coincidences didn’t exist. All things happened for a reason.
Now, tucked away in Hotel Eden, with the man who’d made her feel so much more than any man she’d ever known in her twenty-eight years, she felt safe. He had his life and she had hers, but for this brief moment, they were the center of each other’s universes and nothing, or no one, would come between them.
No sooner had Ronin closed and locked the door behind him then Isabella fell into his arms, as if no time had passed since last they were together. Everything about being in his arms felt right.
He tipped her head and kissed her forehead, her eyelids and, finally, her lips. “You’ve haunted me ever since I left Venice two years ago.”
She shook her head. “Not a night passed that I d
idn’t think of you.” And it was true. In the darkest days of desperation, her heart turned to the most magical time of her life. The days she’d spent with Ronin in this hotel, making love through the night until the sun shone high in the Italian sky each day. “I missed you the moment you left.”
“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter where in the world I was.”
Isabella sighed and pressed her forehead to his chest. “We swore no strings. No commitments.”
He tipped her chin upward. “What if I want strings?” he whispered and brushed her lips with his.
Isabella’s heart fluttered and sped ahead. What was he saying? Dared she dream of another future? She shook her head. “We are from two different worlds.”
“No, Isabella.” He brushed his thumb across the scar beside her mouth. “We are from the same world.”
Again, she rested her forehead against his chest. “There is much you do not know about me.” She was a danger to others. Even coming home to Venice brought danger to her family. How could she consider being with this man when he had his own job to do, his own life to lead? “No strings, Ronin. That’s why we parted before. It has to be that way.”
“Why?”
She took one step backward and placed her hands on his chest. “It has to be that way. I cannot explain. If you cannot accept this, I must leave now. I will not prolong the pain.”
His hands clamped around her arms, and he dragged her against him. “Don’t go. I just found you, again. I can’t let you go so soon.”
Isabella curled her fingers into his shirt. “Promise me…when it comes time for me to leave, you will let me go and forget about me?”
He shook his head. “I can’t make that promise. I will never forget you.”
“At least, promise you will let me go.”
Ronin drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I promise to let you go, if that is truly what you want.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared up into his. Finally, she nodded and melted against him, slipping her arms around his waist. “For now, I only want to hold you.”
“I want so much more.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he pressed a finger to her lips. “But I’ll take whatever time you will give me. For now.”
Isabella kissed his finger and slipped her arms around him. “Then hold me. Love me, and let me love you in return.” She gripped his shirt and tugged it free of his waistband, a smile spreading across her face.
He pulled the scarf from her head and tossed it to the corner. He unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.
With her hand on the button of his jeans, she pushed the rivet through the hole and slowly unzipped. His cock sprang free, long and stiff. She palmed it, caressing the length between her fingers.
Ronin sucked in a deep breath, rolled his head back and closed his eyes. “You make me so hard.”
“You make me so hot,” she whispered.
The rest of her clothing flew off as Ronin backed her toward the narrow bed. When the backs of her knees bumped against the mattress, she stopped.
Ronin took a step backward, holding her at arm’s length, his gaze sweeping over her naked body, caressing her with his eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re even more beautiful than before.”
Heat filled her cheeks, and she returned his perusal with a survey of her own, her glance running his length. “How do you keep in such amazing shape? I swear your shoulders are even broader.”
“The better carry you to bed, my dear.” He waggled his eyebrows and scooped her up into his arms. He kissed her soundly and laid her across the bed, draping her legs over the side. Then he stepped between them, nudging her thighs apart with his knees.
With her heart thundering against her ribs, Isabella pushed up on her elbows and widened her legs, allowing Ronin to move closer to her damp entrance.
“Remember the last time we made love?” he asked.
Isabella’s breath caught, and her core tightened. She nodded. “I remember.”
“Then we’ll begin at the end.” He dropped to his knees, parted her thighs and bent to take her with his mouth.
Ronin couldn’t recall ever being as hard as he was. He wanted to skip the foreplay and drive deep into Isabella, but he was determined to remind her how good they were together. And he loved making her come, loved hearing the sound of her cries. Isabella went all-in when making love. Ronin loved that about her.
He started slowly, parting her folds with his thumbs.
Isabella’s hands flattened on top of the comforter.
Ronin blew a warm stream of air across her clit.
She inhaled sharply. “Stop.”
“Stop?” He let go of her folds and raised his head. “Really? You want me to stop?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Stop teasing me.”
Ronin chuckled and repositioned his thumbs against her soft folds, pulling them back to expose the sliver of flesh packed with nerves. “Perhaps this will be better,” he suggested. Then he touched the tip of his tongue to her there, sliding it along the length of her nubbin.
Isabella’s fingers curled into the comforter, and her hips rose to push herself closer to him. “Oh, my. Yessss.”
“Like that?”
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Again, please.”
He obliged, taking his time, laving her clit with long, sensuous strokes.
Her back arched off the mattress.
Changing tactics, he flicked his tongue against her and sucked the nubbin into his mouth, pulling gently.
She muttered something in Italian and transferred her hands from the comforter to his hair, weaving her fingers between the strands. “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, honey, I hadn’t planned on stopping. I want you hot and wet when I come inside you.”
“Do it. Do it, now,” she begged.
“Not yet. You’re not quite there yet.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He slid a finger into her channel and swirled it around.
Isabella moaned. She was so wet. So ready.
But not there yet.
Determined to bring her to the brink, Ronin slid another finger inside and caressed her clit with his tongue, sliding in and out, over and over.
Isabella arched her back off the bed, her cries growing louder. “Por favore. Pleeeaaasssee.”
He intensified his efforts until her body stiffened and her fingers dug into his scalp. One more flick of his tongue, and she gasped.
Her body shook with the force of her release. Her breath caught and held, her muscles spasming for a long time. Finally, she collapsed against the mattress and drew in a deep, shaky breath. She rested for only a moment before she grasped his arms and urged him up onto the bed. Up onto her.
“Now,” she said. “Make love to me.”
He leaned over her, his lips a breath away from hers. “Miss me?”
“Si.” She lifted her head, just enough to seal their lips, and then said into his mouth, “More than you can imagine.”
Ronin scooted her up on the bed and parted her thighs with a nudge of his knee. Then he positioned his cock at her opening and paused. Sucking in a deep breath, he let it go. “Damn. I almost forgot.”
“What?” She gripped his hips and urged him to enter her. “What did you forget?”
“Protection.”
Her eyes rounded. “Madre de Dio. How could I forget?” She shook her head.
“Not to worry. I have some in my wallet.” He rolled off the bed, grabbed for his jeans and dug into his wallet. When his fingers wrapped around the foil packet, he held it up.
“Grazie.” Isabella reached for the packet, tore it open and sat up to apply the condom to his thick shaft.
Ronin liked the feel of her hands on him, the way they deftly smoothed the protection over the tip and down his length.
At the base of his shaft, she paused to cup his balls.
“I’ve missed you,” she said. Then she scooted back on the bed and opened herself to him.
By that time, Ronin could barely breathe. He couldn’t believe his luck in finding her the first time. But to find her again was beyond luck. It was a miracle. He settled between her legs and touched his cock to her entrance. “Slow and easy? Or hard and fast?”
She gripped his hips and stared up into his face. “Hard and fast. I want you now.”
He drove into her, his shaft buried deep, surrounded by her tight channel.
Isabella dug her heels into the mattress and raised up her hips to meet him, thrust for thrust.
Hard and fast, he pumped in and out of her, shaking the bed with every move. His muscles tightened as he neared the peak and shot over the top. Dropping down on her, he held her close, his shaft throbbing inside her.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on.
He had to be crushing the breath out of her, but she refused to let him go.
Finally, she loosened her hold.
Ronin rolled to his side, taking her with him and cradling her against his body. For a long time he lay, bathed in perspiration and the afterglow of the best sex he’d ever experienced. Only, to him, what they’d just done was more than sex. Together, they made music. As dumb as that sounded in his own thoughts, it was what it was. Music. Making love with Isabella was a symphony of muscles, nerves and movement that sang to the deepest part of Ronin’s heart. He didn’t want the music to ever stop.
He turned to her, kissed her forehead and then her lips. “What are we going to do? I can’t let you go again.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
Pounding on the door jerked them both upright.
4
Isabella yanked the edge of the sheet to her chest and leaped out of the bed. She immediately headed for the window.
Ronin pulled on his jeans and headed for the door.
“What are you doing?” Isabella demanded in a sharp whisper.
“Someone knocked on the door.” He stared across the room at her, his brows furrowed. “It might be the desk clerk with further instructions.”