Taken by the South Wind

by Anna Hackett

  When she saw the hilt of her dagger protruding from his pocket, she saw her opportunity. In a swift move, she grabbed the knife and pressed it to his heart.

  He didn’t react, just watched her with that steady gaze.

  “I need to go.” She shifted to the very edge of the bed.

  “Aren’t you going to kill me?”

  Damn him for sounding amused. “I need to find out the truth first.” She stood, keeping the knife pressed against his chest.

  “Samia, I brought you here to keep you out of my way.” He stood and stepped forward until the knife bit into his skin. “Now I need to keep you for a very different reason.”

  He moved so fast she didn’t have time to react. His hand gripped her wrist and his other arm wrapped around her waist. The stinging pain in her wrist made the knife fall to the floor.

  Damn him. She’d never been disarmed so many times by the same person before. When she felt Dante’s fingers tug at the hem of her shirt, panic spurted into her veins. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He yanked the shirt over her head and went to work on her pants. “I figure being naked might make you think twice about escaping.”

  He left her in only a black bra and matching panties. She tried to elbow him in the gut, but he dodged. She tried every other move she’d been taught over the years, but it was as if he read her mind, anticipating her every move.

  When he unhooked her bra, she struggled like a wild woman, twisting her body, trying to escape him. He held her with alarming ease. She’d never felt so helpless. She watched him reach out and grab the silken ties holding the curtains back.

  With both of the ties in his hand, he maneuvered her toward the bed. Her skin flushed hot, then cold. “What are you doing?”

  He pushed her down on the silk covers and gripped one of her wrists, his other hand splayed on her bare belly. She watched his gaze drift to her breasts, saw heat flare in the depths of his eyes. Molten warmth rushed into her face.

  He began to tie her wrist to the intricate metal headboard. She slapped at him with her hand.

  “I can’t let Africus win.” He finished the knot and went to work on her other wrist. “I’ll use everything I can to ensure I defeat him.” He sat back, leaving her arms stretched out above her head. “Even you.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and again she noticed how weary he looked. He stood, scooped her clothes off the floor, then strode out of the room.

  Samia fought her bindings, but the knots held tight. She slumped back. Dante was back before she could formulate a plan. He towered over the bed, then began unbuttoning his white shirt.

  Her nostrils flared. She watched his sculpted body come into view. Bronze skin stretched over a six-pack abdomen and a light dusting of dark hair covered his pectorals. She noticed the wound where she’d stabbed him had already healed.

  He tossed the shirt on the floor. “I need some respite from my struggle and it seems only you can give it to me.”

  Samia gasped, her throat dust dry. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant, did he? Shocked, she watched him slip out of his trousers, leaving him in midnight-blue boxers. He stepped closer to the bed.

  A part of her cried in pain, screamed that this man would use her. Just as her father and the brotherhood used her to kill.

  But another part of her stilled and waited. That part of her wanted Dante. Wanted to offer him the comfort he needed.

  Dante watched Samia’s eyes widen until they filled her face. He saw a confusing mix of emotions cross her features.

  “So you’ll use me, then?” Her voice was low, strained. “You don’t know anything about me, but you’ll take what you need from me.”

  Like all the others. The unspoken words hung between them. He wondered how many others had used her for her skills. Hired her to kill without ever once wondering what toll the killing took on her.

  It was clear this assassin was neither cold nor unfeeling. Her eyes showed she felt too much.

  “I just need sleep, Samia.”

  “You don’t plan to rape me?”

  He scowled at her. “I don’t need to force a woman.”

  Her gaze moved over his bare chest and down his body, leaving him edgy and wanting.

  “No, I guess you don’t,” she said quietly.

  Was that disappointment in her voice? Dante decided tiredness was playing games with his mind. That and the insistent whispers of pride.

  “I just want to lie beside you. I need some rest.” He didn’t move. He wanted her to realize he was giving her a choice. “If I don’t recharge, I’ll succumb to the pride the minute I confront Africus.”

  She stared at him for an eternity before giving him a small nod.

  Desperate to make the voices go away, he stretched out beside her. He felt her tense. He turned off the bedside lamp and moved in close to her. Instantly the pride dissipated and he released a deep breath.

  How was it possible? He’d never heard of another being able to calm the vices.

  Lying in the darkness, he noticed other sensations. His side was touching one of her full breasts, skin to tantalizing skin. That sweet jasmine smell of her. Her slim legs close to his.

  Desire punched through him, hot and hard. His body tightened painfully. It seemed he’d swapped one struggle for another. Stripping her naked except for tiny black panties may not have been the best idea.

  He wouldn’t take advantage of her. He wouldn’t let pride goad him into believing he had the right to touch her or use her. And he wouldn’t let her delectable body lure him away from his duty.

  Africus was out there and the longer he was free, the more people he’d hurt. Horrific memories of the past flashed behind Dante’s eyelids—good people driven to do gruesome acts, families destroyed, lives lost.

  He closed his eyes and tried to relax. But with Samia’s scent taunting him, it seemed impossible. Tension throbbed through his body.

  He wouldn’t fail his brothers. “If I don’t stop Africus, if my brothers and I can’t defeat the Tempest Winds, the world is in terrible danger.” His voice filled the darkness. “They will start in Italy, then spread their infection across Europe, across the world.”

  “How can you stop them?”

  “Once we release them from their human bodies, my brothers and I can lock them away with a vicious storm. Their prison is an island near Sicily, Isola del Vento. Their warden is the immortal Keeper of the Winds.”

  “He sounds formidable.”

  Dante smiled. “She. And she is formidable.” Then he remembered that the cool, beautiful Livia Cavalli had lost her immortality. “Actually, we’ll select a new Keeper. The current Keeper is human again.” And planning to marry Rafe Donovan, Luca’s best horse trainer from the Venti horse-breeding operation.

  Samia shifted. “What will happen if the Tempest Winds succeed?”

  Dante hoped none of them would ever have to find out. “In rage, brother will kill brother. In lust, friend will rape friend. In greed, parent will steal from child. In pride, neighbor will destroy neighbor.” He pressed a hand to her side, to her satin-smooth skin, amazed that this woman could beat back what had haunted him all his life. “I have to be strong enough to stop it.”

  Silence wrapped around them. Then she broke it. “I understand. That’s why the Hashshashin exist. From the time we can walk, we are taught every possible way to take a life. We hone those skills with daily combat. We hunt the evil too powerful for humans to stop.”

  Dante stared at the shadows wavering on the ceiling. Both of them existed for the same purpose. But he had grown up raised with love, with parents who’d cared right up to the day they’d died in a car accident. Even then, he’d always had his brothers to stand beside him.

  Who did Samia have? She was given orders and sent out alone. “Do you like killing?”

  “I’m good at it.” There was a quiver in her voice.

  “But do you like it?”

  “I…I used to.”

&
nbsp; Dante moved a little closer to her. “What changed?”

  “I killed an innocent boy.” Her words were blank, empty of emotion.

  Here was what put the sadness in her eyes. “Tell me.”

  She inhaled a slow breath. “His father was a man who dabbled with powerful magic, using it to seduce women. He’d become a serial rapist. I was sent to stop him.”

  Dante slid his palm up and down her arm. “What happened?”

  “The boy leaped in front of his father to defend him. I couldn’t stop.”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t offer her anything else. He knew nothing he said would ease her pain. Only time would dull it.

  “My father told me that taking one innocent life to save hundreds was worth it.” Her voice hitched. “Collateral damage.”

  Bastard. Her father sounded like the Hashshashin Dante had heard about. “Hurting the innocent is never necessary.”

  “I see that boy’s eyes in my head every time I try to sleep. I haven’t killed since I took his life. I’ve tried.”

  “I know.”

  She gave a hiccupping laugh, then her voice sobered. “I wanted to kill again because I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

  He rubbed her arm. “You have a choice, Samia. To find what and who you want to be.”

  There was a moment’s silence. “You’re more powerful than any being I’ve been sent after. I know you can stop Africus.”

  Dante gave a humorless laugh. “Forever fighting the nature of what’s inside me—and the temptation to embrace it—makes me feel weak.”

  Her warm breath fluttered over his shoulder. “Get some rest, Dante.”

  Her soft words wrapped around him, a balm to his restless body and mind. He wrapped his arms around her and let her warmth soothe him.

  Chapter Five

  Blinding sunlight woke Samia. Keeping her eyes shut, she tried to move, but one arm wouldn’t budge.

  She opened her eyes, blinking against the light shining through a slit in the curtains. Looking down, she saw a dark head nestled between her breasts.

  The events of the night rushed through her like a high-speed train. Sometime during the night, Dante had untied her wrists from the bed and tied one of them to his. He was still asleep, his warm breath tickling her nipple.

  God. His thick black hair was stark against her skin. The warm skin of his chest felt exquisite against her belly. Liquid heat pooled between her legs.

  She stared at the half of the dark angel face she could see. The lines of strain were gone and he looked relaxed, younger. And he’d found that rest by lying beside her.

  A woman with death running in her veins had given another being comfort. A new experience for her. Not once had she ever been needed, other than to kill.

  Sometime during the night, she’d started to believe that this man was what he said he was. He was no killer of innocents. He was a man who protected them.

  Anger thrummed through her. The Hashshashin had been duped by the Tempest Winds. Her brotherhood had been played, their reputation tarnished. She would help Dante hunt Africus. Not just for revenge, but because she knew Dante needed her help. He needed her.

  She moved her free hand and ran her fingers through the dark silk of his thick hair.

  His golden eyes opened and she froze. He moved his head and looked up at her. Then his gaze drifted back to the bare breast in front of him.

  Samia’s nipples hardened and her skin flushed with heat. His gaze was enough to sensitize her skin, enough to make every cell quiver.

  “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and closed his mouth over her breast.

  The sensation was shocking. Samia bucked, delicious heat pouring through her. His tongue swirled, tugged. His teeth nipped, then he soothed again with his tongue.

  She moaned, breathless and hungry. Something inside her strained for him; something wild recognized him. He groaned and switched to her other taut nipple, teeth scraping. The dazzling sensations arrowed down her body, leaving slick heat between her legs.

  He moved his body fully onto hers, his lean hips settling into the cradle of hers. When his thick erection brushed against her core, even through the thin silk of her panties and the fabric of his boxers, she gave a husky cry. Flames licked at her skin, her body on fire.

  Dante thrust against her, his big body tense. His erection pressed harder against her folds, a taunting promise. Helpless, she rubbed against him. She wanted to scream at him, beg him to do something to stop the ache inside her.

  “You are so beautiful, bella.” His mouth nipped at her neck, his tongue ran across her shoulder. “So perfectly formed.”

  Her breath hitched. No one had ever called her by an endearment, not even when she was a child. He moved again and his mouth captured hers.

  The touch of his lips was electric. The force of the kiss pressed her into the pillow. His tongue danced with hers, then his teeth nipped her bottom lip.

  She felt possessed. It was as if he needed to touch, taste and feel every inch of her, to memorize her body. She was lost in the chaos of pleasure his every touch brought her.

  His heart thundered against hers. His lips trailed over her face, down her neck. He shifted his big body down and his chest hair scraped over her tight nipples, causing luscious friction. He pressed little kisses over her breasts, down her tight belly. His clever tongue traced the light ridges of her toned stomach, then delved into her navel.

  “Your skin is so smooth, so soft.”

  Samia tossed her head back. It was all too much. She knew she wasn’t soft, she was hard and empty. Yet his touch, his words, filled her and made her feel whole.

  He was seducing her, playing her body like a virtuoso. She was drunk on arousal and the raging desire tearing through her. When his mouth laved the inside of her thigh, she jerked in unbearable anticipation. She knew she should stop this ruthless assault on her senses. She’d been sent to kill this man, not love him.

  His finger brushed over the edge of her panties and her body tensed. She looked at his dark head nestled between her thighs, the skin stretched taut across his high cheekbones.

  “Bella,” he breathed as his finger nudged her panties aside, baring her to his view. “I have to taste you.”

  She watched him bend his head, her nerves stretching to breaking point.

  The first lap of his tongue was shocking. She bucked, her heels digging into the bed. His tongue stabbed into her, his free hand gripping her thigh. Her body vibrated. She was so wet, her body clenching.

  He continued feasting on her, a low growl echoing in his throat. His tongue swirled around the small nub at the top of her sex.

  “It’s too much.” She bit down on her lip, her breath caught in her throat. “I can’t take anymore.”

  “Si, yes you can.” His voice was low, stark. He continued tormenting her. “Say my name, Samia. I want you to know who is pleasuring you.”

  Her lips parted and the intense pressure building in her had her eyelids drifting low.

  “Say it,” he demanded.

  “Dante.” Their eyes locked. “Dante.”

  He flicked again at the hard nub, then suckled on it, hurling her into orgasm.

  She screamed. Fiery heat cascaded over her, crashed down and swept her away. Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes.

  Pleasure hummed through her, little aftershocks shivering across her skin. When she could finally think again, she opened her eyes and looked at Dante.

  His body was rigid, covering her like a big predator. He looked as if he was fighting for control. His gaze traveled over her body and settled on the cord binding her wrist to his.

  His face went blank. He off her, his movements jerky. With a quick flick of his free hand, he untied their wrists and stood.

  Samia still couldn’t believe the pleasure he’d shown her. She rarely had the time or inclination for men. Her few forays into sex had left her wondering why people spent so much time and ene
rgy on it. But Dante knew her body better than she did. Her gaze dipped to the massive bulge in the front of his boxers. Desire ignited again, deep and hard. For once, she was putting her needs ahead of the brotherhood’s, ahead of her mission, ahead of her duty. She wanted Dante to give her more, to show her more.

  With a curse, he turned and stalked to the window. He jerked open the curtains, letting the Italian sun pour into the room. He stood there, a dark silhouette against the light.

  Samia swallowed, suddenly feeling very naked. Desire dimmed. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling what she felt. She fought to control the color flooding her cheeks.

  Gripping one corner of the bedcover, she tugged it across her naked body. She wasn’t going to sit here and act embarrassed about the fact he’d made her come.

  “I’m sorry, Samia. I never meant for this to get so…out of hand.”

  She cleared her aching throat. He was going to ruin the most pleasurable, intimate thing she’d ever shared with another person. “Please, no apologies.”

  “I promised not to force you.”

  She choked on a laugh. “Did I look like I didn’t want to participate?”

  A muscle in his jaw worked. “You were tied up. I took away your choice.”

  She was beginning to realize just how wrong she’d been about Dante Venti. He was good, decent and so very noble. “Forget it.”

  “I have to find Africus. There is no room for anything else.”

  Moving to the edge of the bed, she turned her back on him. He had no room for her. A quiet hurt settled around her heart.

  Her father had told her similar words when she’d tried to deepen their relationship. He’d only been interested in making her the best killer he could.

  She’d been trained her entire life to put the mission first, to suppress all her personal needs. She could hardly blame Dante for doing the same. “I understand.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “I doubt that.”

  It was time for her to do what she did best. “You have a duty.” She looked over her shoulder, saw him watching her. “I want to help you.”