Claiming the East Wind (3 page)

“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.

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.

She wanted more. More of Soren.

Apeliotus released her and was gone. She was left hanging in the water.

There was a wild explosion of bubbles around her.

Suddenly she was yanked upward.

Skye flew through the water, broke the surface. Air hit her face. She had a dizzying aerial view of the lake before she coughed, water spilling from her lungs. She clamped her eyes closed and focused on trying to get air into her chest.

She was crushed against a hard male chest and seconds later she was being laid out on the terrace. She looked up at the cloudy sky. The clouds weren’t quite so dark or dense as before.

Hands scraped her hair back off her face. “Skye? Skye?” Soren’s handsome face leaned over her. “Tell me you’re okay.
Per favore
.”

She tried to talk and ended up in a coughing fit. Gentle, gentle hands helped her sit up.

“I’m okay,” she managed.

“
Madre di Dio
.” Soren released a long breath, his gray eyes boring into her, taking in every inch of her face. “Come on.” He scooped her up into his arms.

Too tired to do anything else, she slid an arm across his shoulders and leaned her head against his neck.

He took her into a bedroom decorated in shades of dark blue. A huge wooden bed dominated the space. His room, she realized.

He carried her through to the adjoining bathroom and her jaw dropped. The space was enormous and covered in creamy travertine tiles. One wall was covered in mirror that reflected back how small she looked nestled in his arms.

A large claw-footed tub sat against the back wall. He set her down, urged her to sit on the edge of the tub while he sat on a stool. He flicked on the water. “We need to get you warm.” Soon steam was rising and he sprinkled some fragrant oil into the water.

Then he turned, reached behind her and slid down the zipper of her dress. Inch by slow inch. Her breath caught in her chest.

His gaze moved to her face as his hand gripped the neckline. Slowly he pushed the dress until it slipped, baring one shoulder.

When his hand went to the other strap, she grabbed his wrist.

His fingers brushed her collarbone. “I won’t hurt you. I want to take care of you.”

She trembled and a curl of heat snuck through her belly.
Now or never, Skye.

“They sent me here to seduce you.” The words blurted out of her. “Aurae are supposed to soothe the vices of a WindKeeper. And sex is usually the quickest way.”

His eyes narrowed and she held her breath. Ready for his anger.

Instead, he smiled. “You haven’t done a very good job of seduction.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I know. Because I don’t like sex.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’ve experienced making love.”

She stared at his face and swallowed. Instead of her seducing him, he was seducing
her
. “I didn’t want to…be intimate with you under false pretenses.”

“No pretenses now, Skye. Just you and me.”

She released his hand.

Soren pushed the dress down. It pooled at her waist, leaving her breasts bare. She’d taken her wet underwear off earlier after the storm. The air made her nipples tighten. Through the swirling steam, she saw their reflection in the mirror and it stirred her desire.

Then he pulled her to stand and the dress fell to her ankles, baring her completely to him. He glanced down, his gaze tracing her limbs, before he looked back at her face. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

He lifted her again and set her in the tub. Skye blinked. That wasn’t what she expected at all. He urged her to sit down and she sank into the warm water. Sighed.

“I’m sorry he took you.”

She splashed some water on her chest and face. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. You warned me.”

“You’ve lost your memory, Soren.”

“Well, it’s time I remembered.”

“Give yourself a break.”

He took a cloth from a drawer in the vanity and dipped it into the water. Then he brought it to her back. She enjoyed the rhythmic strokes on her skin. Wished it was his bare hand against her.

“Do you give yourself a break?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m starting to. Therapy’s helped me accept that my past isn’t my fault. I want to move forward.” She studied the strong lines of his face. Far, far too handsome for any man. “I want more.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Let’s dry you off.”

He took her hand and helped her step out of the bath. She should have felt embarrassed, shameless. She’d never stood naked in front of a man, never wanted to before.

Soren grabbed a thick cream towel off the rack. He held it up. “May I?”

She nodded. When he kneeled at her feet and started drying her ankles, she just couldn’t breathe. He stole her breath, her inhibitions, her fears.

He moved upward, caressing her calves, her thighs. A quick brush of the towel between her legs and her belly jumped, fire igniting deep inside her. He continued upward, sweeping one part of the towel over her belly and the other up her back. He ran it along her spine.

Then he covered her breasts. As he rubbed, her knees trembled. The fabric was rough against her sensitized nipples. He smoothed the towel over her shoulders, so close she could feel the heat of him, and was nearly swamped by his amazing scent.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

Quiet words. Words she couldn’t resist or refuse. “Please.”

The towel dropped, landing at her feet. Then his big, warm hands cupped her breasts.

She moaned. His touch was electric. He followed her curves, plumping them up, his thumbs brushing her nipples over and over.

“So pretty,” he murmured. “I want to kiss these pretty nipples. Is that okay?”

She nodded. Unable to find her voice.

He bent his head and sucked the peak into his mouth.

Hot. Scalding. “Soren!”

“Good?”

She nodded again rapidly.

He switched to the other breast, sucking on her, scraping her gently with his teeth. At the same time, he pressed one open palm to her belly. His finger delved into her navel and then moved lower. He traced over her hip bone. Lower.

“Skye?”

“Yes. Please.”

He ran his fingers through the blonde curls at the juncture of her thighs. One finger slid over her, where she was damp and tingling. He flicked at her clit and she jerked. She was melting, dissolving. Soon she would be nothing but a puddle of need.