Claiming the East Wind (2 page)

“What’s your name?” For some reason, he needed to know.

“Skye.”

It suited her.

“And yours is Soren,” she added. She watched him carefully. “Soren Vulturnus Venti.”

He frowned. Soren. It sounded right. But he didn’t want to know any more. All he wanted was to focus on what he desired and collecting everything he could. “And who are you, Skye?”

She shrugged. “I’m no one special. Just a woman. Timid, shy.” Her big eyes flashed. “I’m broken and I’m tired of it.”

Her words were quiet but they speared in under his skin. Her honesty was refreshing. He blinked, unable to take his gaze off this intriguing woman. He circled her, pulling in the scent of her. She smelled like the promise of a spring storm. “Why are you here, little rabbit?”

“I want to be strong. I want to do something that matters.”

“Helping me matters?”

She nodded.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the delicate shell of her ear. “Greed beats deep in my veins. I take everything I want.”

She shivered but she didn’t back away. “Are you going to toss me out like the others?”

For a reason he didn’t understand, he wanted this woman close by. She didn’t back down and she didn’t push against him like the others who’d blazed in here ready to do battle. She fascinated him. And right now, any distraction was welcome.

“You stay.”

He was going to let her stay.
Skye felt a brief moment of elation, but when she saw him grimace and press his hands to his temples, it evaporated.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “The voices won’t stop. Only one thing makes them stop.”

His body disintegrated and the East Wind filled the room. Skye felt the air stream out of the conservatory. She ran after him.

She took the steps of the grand staircase two at a time. By the time she followed him down the hall and through a doorway, she was out of breath.

She halted suddenly. The room was filled with…treasure.

Bundles of cash lay stacked on the desk, surrounding a sleek desktop computer. Behind the large mahogany desk, the bookcase was draped in jewelry and paintings were stacked against the wall. Skye recognized expensive when she saw it.

It was like some sort of dragon’s lair.

Soren, once again in human form, sat in the large black leather chair behind the desk. He appeared oblivious to the stunning view of the lake through the large French doors. He was focused on the computer.

“You can’t stay locked in here.” Skye recognized the irony of her giving that advice. “Apeliotus will come for you.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Soren turned and grabbed something from the bookcase. “Here. Wear this.”

He was holding a large gold necklace set with a ruby the size of a baby’s fist.

Her stomach did a slow roll. Her stepfather had left her trinkets. “I don’t really wear jewelry. And that doesn’t suit me.”

Soren’s eyes became unfocused. He stared at the necklace. “Maybe you’re right. “ He turned away, setting the necklace on the desk.

She moved closer. “Soren, you need to let your brothers in.”

He frowned. “Brothers?”

“Yes, Luca, Dante, Antonio—”

“Stop!” Soren leaped to his feet. “Stop.” He rubbed his temple. “No more.”

She held up her hands. Okay, she’d obviously pushed too far. “I’m sorry.”

“I have no brothers, no family. I only have what I take. That makes me strong.” He scooped up a handful of coins and jewelry.

“Greed doesn’t make you strong,” she said quietly.

He made a sound close to a growl. His eyes were wild. “Watch your step, Skye. I’ve let you stay but I can send you away if I want.”

There was so much at stake and she was failing. She studied his bent head. How was she supposed to lure this man into bed? Her chest tightened at the thought. Should she just throw herself at him? Skye almost rolled her eyes at the idea. She was no femme fatale and a man like Soren Venti wouldn’t look twice at her in the outside world.

His wide shoulders were so tense and his handsome face was set in stark lines. He was struggling, suffering, even if he didn’t acknowledge it. He just needed to relax a little.

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.

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.

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?”