Wind Kissed, Fire Bound

Anna Hackett

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter One

Power swelled inside Livia Cavalli, tightening her skin. Electricity tingled at her fingertips.

“You will not escape me.” Her eyes narrowed, her gaze focused on the rough waves of the Mediterranean Sea, whipped into a frenzy by the wild winds. Her prisoners were testing their powers.

As if aware of her thoughts, the winds wheeled and raced toward the beach where she stood. They tore at her clothes, ripped the band from her ponytail and tossed her blond hair out behind her. Violence was in the air, restless and searching.

As the Keeper of the Winds, it was her responsibility to keep them in control.

She raised her hands to the stormy seas and called her own wind.

It blew up around her, cool and playful, powerful and primal. Stronger than anything the wicked Venti Tempesta could produce from their jail.

The power ran through her bloodstream, leaving her calm and in control.

Once she’d been weak, powerless to stop those who’d destroyed her world and ruled her life with careless cruelty. She lifted her face to the sky, a cool smile on her lips. Now she held power beyond comprehension and used it to keep mankind safe.

“Arresto.” Her wind swept past her and swallowed the biting Tempest breeze. She heard their frenzied whispers on the wind, their curses and screams.

She motioned at the dark clouds building in the sky above. Moments later, the wind dispersed them and left only sunny blue skies hanging over the island.

It wouldn’t be long before the powers of the Tempest Winds were strong enough for them to attempt an escape. Livia glanced to the west, to the distinctive silhouette of the Stromboli volcano on the neighboring island. Its eruptions were getting stronger, its primal power feeding her prisoners.

Breathing deep, she let the smell of the sea fill her senses. She hated that the winds’ restlessness fueled her own. Her emotions were rising to the surface and each time she used her powers, it was a little harder to suppress them.

She turned, glimpsed the terracotta tile roof of her villa and her horse stables. The prison of the winds.

She would stop them. It was the duty of the Keeper.

As she caught her hair back in a ponytail, a vibration in her top pocket had her reaching for her cell phone. “Cavalli.”

When a smooth masculine voice came through the line, she smiled. “Ciao, Luca.” But as her boss continued, her smile melted away. “I don’t want that man on my island.”

She listened to the barrage of Italian on the other end of the phone. The words made her stomach knot, a sensation she wasn’t familiar with.

“Luca, you aren’t listening to me. I don’t like Donovan.” Annoyingly her stomach knotted even further. Rafe Donovan always upset her equilibrium. Having him on Isola del Vento, with her control already stretched by the winds, would only make it worse. “Now isn’t a good time. The Tempest Winds have been testing their prison. I need to focus on stopping them.”

More Italian spewed through. Luca Venti was never shy about voicing his opinions or giving orders.

“Of course I can handle them, and I realize he’s bringing your prized stallion to breed with Eos but—”

When Luca cut her off, she ran a hand through her hair. How dare he question her ability to do her duty? Both to the winds and to her horses.

She looked over the white-fenced fields before her, and the horseflesh dotting them. Luca and his brothers might own the operation, but Island of the Wind Estates was hers. Her horses were the only thing in her world that gave her some degree of true pleasure.

“Fine.” She sighed. She knew when to fight and when to conserve her strength. “When is he arriving?”

The answer had her heart rapping against her ribs. “What do you mean now?”

She swiveled, her gaze zeroing in on the whitewashed cottages clustered together at the shore a few miles away. Sure enough, the daily ferry from Sicily was pulling into the tiny harbor.

“Dio, Luca. A little more warning would have been appreciated.” She slammed her phone closed. She knew not many people had the courage to hang up on Luca Venti, Keeper of the North Wind.

Straightening her shoulders, she rose to her full five feet nine inches. There was very little she feared. As a member of the WindKeepers, she had no need to fear. Not anymore.

Except one reckless horse trainer who made her feel things she’d given up her humanity to avoid.

She banished the thought. Time to prove she could handle all six feet of Rafe Donovan.

She summoned the wind. It blew through her, unknotting the tangle in her belly, smoothing her feelings away. It left her cool, bare and clean.

As she let her body blend with the wind, her soul became as light as air. It was no longer possible to tell where her body ended and the wind began. Then she traveled with it down to the village.

Livia didn’t worry about the villagers seeing her—they knew of her powers. Generations of them had served the Keeper and kept the secrets of Isola del Vento hidden from the rest of the world. She materialized on the edge of the village piazza.

The sight that greeted her had her limbs turning liquid and warmth rising to burn away the coolness inside her.

The horse was stunning. And the man riding him even more eye-catching.

Man and beast moved like one through the cobbled street. The big chocolate-colored stallion tossed his head, willful and wanting his own way. Full of fire.

But the man controlled the horse with ease, and despite her best efforts to fight it, Livia’s eyes were drawn to him. To the powerful, jean-clad thighs gripping the horse, the muscular shoulders filling out the white T-shirt. The thin tattoo of flames banding one strong bicep, the fascinating face—all angles with a jagged scar on the jaw. The dark hair, not long, not short, teased by the morning breeze.

The smoke-gray eyes locked on her.

Heat tore through her, washing away her composure. Her fingers curled into her palms. No, she wanted the numbness. She forced herself to stay still, her face blank.

How? she despaired. How did he make her feel like this?

Life had taught her to be wary of men, and she’d seen men more handsome and polished than Donovan. The Venti brothers were perfect specimens of Italian virility, but none of them generated heat in her.

What raced through her bloodstream for Rafe Donovan was so hot it burned.

He brought the stallion to a stop a few feet from her and rested the reins in one hand. “Hello, Duchess.”

The amused voice, with just a hint of drawl, irritated her. “I have told you a hundred times not to call me by that ridiculous name.”

His slow smile was as arrogant as it was infuriating. “Until you stop talking to me like royalty to a peasant, I’ll keep calling you Duchess.”

Livia sucked in a breath, released it inch by slow inch. “I talk to you as I would any other colleague, Signor Donovan. And since I run the European arm of Island of the Wind Estates and you run the American one, that’s what we are—colleagues.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Rafe?”

“I prefer to keep things professional.”

“Really?” He slid off the horse in an agile move she envied.

He sauntered toward her, moving with a swagger of lean hips that made her mouth go dry. His scent wrapped around her, a tantalizing mixture of male sweat and spicy cologne. He smelled of things she didn’t want, things she feared.

“I don’t think it’s very professional the way your pulse flutters at the base of your throat when I get close to you.”

Her mouth dropped open. He couldn’t know what he did to her. Couldn’t know her confused body yearned for him.

Power prickled along her skin. His power, not hers. She sensed he was something beyond human. Sensed the power and wild anger simmering inside him. He kept it hidden under a coat of charm and devil-may-care humor, but it was there.

She had no idea what kind of supernatural being he was, nor did she want to know.

He stepped closer and she felt the heat of his body. It warmed her cool skin, made her remember what it felt like to be human.

Her stomach quivered. She didn’t want to remember. Humanity equaled emotion, and emotion equaled pain.

When he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, she controlled the urge to flinch and stared over his right shoulder.

“The way your pupils dilate when I touch you—” his finger brushed over her cheek, a light caress “—that’s not very professional either.”

She slammed her mental shutters down. Donovan was a threat to her control and she needed her control to ensure the Tempest Winds remained locked away, where they couldn’t spread their evil.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She slapped his arm away and stepped around him.

“Coward,” he murmured.

She stiffened her spine. Ignore him. She reached out and stroked the stallion’s neck. “So this is Astraeus.”

Rafe was silent for a moment. “Yep. My boy here is raring to meet the lucky lady.”

Livia felt a quick tug at the thought of the stallion mating with her favorite mare. It would be a winning combination, she had no doubt. “I want this done quickly. Then I want you off my island.” Away from her and the coming confrontation with her prisoners.

When Rafe came up behind her and caged her between his hard body and the stallion, every muscle in her tensed.

“He’s excited, knowing there’s a pretty filly eager for his attention.” Rafe’s warm breath brushed her ear. “I understand how he feels.”

She closed her eyes. Arousal was like a jagged knife cutting at her insides. Painful, but edged with seductive pleasure. She pressed her hands against her thighs, hard enough to leave marks.

How did this man generate such intense feeling in her? How, when three hundred years ago, she’d embraced the power of the Keeper to lock her emotions away?

And in three centuries, no one had ever made her feel like this.

Chapter Two

“We should get Astraeus up to the stables.”

Rafe watched Livia sidestep away from him. He figured a man had to be perverse to find a woman’s frosty voice a turn-on.

Why did that snotty tone affect him so much? And why did those huge blue eyes arrow straight to his gut? His fingers tightened, the leather reins biting into his hand. “Lead the way, Duchess.”

The ice princess spun, her pale gold ponytail flying behind her. Over her shoulder, she skewered him with a glacial look. “Follow me.”

Rafe motioned to the groom who’d followed him off the ferry in the truck and horse trailer to head to the stables. Then he focused on Livia’s slim profile.

She had the body and posture of a ballerina, her back ramrod straight. The top two buttons of her fitted white shirt were undone and the shirt lay open, offering a teasing view of pale skin and delicate collarbones. Buff-colored jodhpurs hugged long legs that were tucked into knee-high black boots. Give her a whip and she’d ignite a man’s darkest fantasies.

He patted his pocket, looking for the cigarettes he’d given up a year before. She ignited his fantasies, that was for sure. He spent way too many nights dreaming of peeling those tight pants off her, leaving her naked and moaning his name.

Every time he and Livia had run into each other at races, parties and business meetings, he’d wanted to touch her. In the two years they’d been colleagues, he’d tried to charm her but had never cracked the ice around her. He studied her face again. She looked the same, but he sensed something was different about her. She was troubled.

A warning sounded in his head. He made it a habit to steer clear of personal trouble.

Moments later they reached a group of long stone stables. An elegant villa, its black iron railings contrasting with the butter-colored walls, stood in the background. Dark-haired grooms walked between buildings or worked with horses in the white-fenced yards. As he’d expected of a Venti-owned operation, everything was tidy and so clean it shone. Just like his own stables in Virginia.

Livia led him into a building. “You can stable him here until it is time for the mating.”

Rafe waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the stables. Twin rows of stalls, each built of solid wood and painted a brilliant white, lined the walls. The familiar scents of hay, feed and horse filled his senses.

“I’m sure Astraeus will be very happy, Liv.” He waited for her reaction to the shortening of her name.

The stallion snorted and pawed the ground. Absently Rafe stroked a hand down the big animal’s side and Astraeus stilled.

Livia stared at him for a moment. “I will check on Eos. Find me when you have stabled Astraeus.”

He watched her walk away, disappointed she hadn’t taken the bait. His gaze was drawn to the shapely rear end hugged by her jodhpurs. His hand clenched in Astraeus’s mane. God, the woman had a body to tempt the coolest soul, and his was far from cool.

Rafe opened the door to an empty stall and led the horse inside. The Keeper of the Winds tempted him with her slim body and challenged him with her haughty attitude. He suspected there was something buried under the ice.

He knew what she was, knew all about the WindKeepers. Luca had told him the stories of the monstrous god, Typhon, creating violent winds, and the King of the Gods, Jupiter, giving control of the winds to man to save the world from destruction.

Four brothers were each bestowed one of the powerful cardinal winds. And a final man—or in this case, woman—was assigned as the Keeper of winds so evil they had to be locked away. He had no idea how Livia had become the Keeper, but the Venti brothers spoke of her with admiration and respect.

He had power himself, was descended from a goddess, so he wasn’t shocked. Once, he’d known another woman who’d been dedicated to her powers.

Shadows shifted in his mind, angry heat spread deep in his belly. But when the stallion butted his head against Rafe’s shoulder, he forced himself to relax. “You’re right, Astraeus, it’s best to focus on the present, not the past.”

The present was Livia Cavalli. He’d subtly pumped Luca for information about her. The eldest Venti hadn’t been all that forthcoming, so apart from knowing she held the power to command the wind and kept some evil winds locked away on Isola del Vento, she was a mystery to him.

One he felt challenged to solve.

Rafe found Livia in a stall occupied by a sweet-faced mare. The Thoroughbred was lovely, with a coat caught somewhere between white and gray. Silver like the dawn.

“So this is Eos?”

Livia pressed her face to the mare’s throat. “Yes.” She turned, a small smile on her lips. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

His attention snagged on the woman, not the horse. In the two years he’d known Livia Cavalli, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile. It lit her face with a quiet glow. He cleared his throat. “Very beautiful.”

He stroked the mare’s nose. Without conscious thought, he used his power to connect with the animal. She was a content one, happy with her easy life on Isola del Vento. The mare nudged him flirtatiously. She held great affection for her troubled mistress.

He frowned. Troubled? Eos shifted, and his hand landed on top of Livia’s.

Her skin was cold. She felt like cool, smooth marble.

Pain tore through Rafe, like a sword slashing him open. His knees threatened to buckle and his fingers clamped on hers. Unable to control his power, he found it centered on Livia. In the back of his head, he heard the distant chant of his Celtic ancestors.

God damn it, no. His breathing turned shallow, rapid. Unlike the other times he’d touched her, he sensed pain close to the surface, triggering his power. He resisted, fought the energy overtaking him, but it came, anyway. He found a void inside her, the dark emptiness.

“Donovan?” Livia’s voice sounded as if it came from a great distance. “What’s wrong?”

He moved past the void, saw something move in the darkness. His vision blurred and through the black mist he saw flashes of jumbled images. A blonde child screaming as she was snatched from her mother’s arms. The girl—a little older—scrubbing a tile floor, her knuckles rubbed raw. The blonde—now a young woman—with a bruised face, blue eyes brimming with tears as she lay curled up on a rumpled bed.

The flames of his power licked at his insides. He groaned. Eos gave a nervous whinny and Livia snatched her hand away.

Through his blurred vision, he saw a frown marring her face. She reached out, her hand hovering for a second before she touched her cool fingers to his forehead.

“Donovan?”

Those elegant fingers brushed his hair back, the coolness of them soothed. It helped him control the power. He breathed deeply, pulled in the airy scent of her. His thundering heart echoed in his head like a jackhammer.

Damn. He hadn’t used his powers on a human in a long time. And the times he had, it had never been this strong and clear.

He’d known something simmered under Livia’s shell. He just hadn’t guessed a person could function with so much pain inside.

“Rafe?” Her tone was as close to gentle as he’d ever heard. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Goddess, this was all he needed. His neck throbbed and a pounding ache sprang to life behind his left eye. “Headache. It’s been a long day of travel.”

Her lips firmed, her hand dropped away. He didn’t think she believed him.

“I need to talk with my grooms. Head up to the villa and the cook will fix you a meal.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Food was the last thing he felt like having.

As soon as she’d disappeared, he leaned over and tried to slow his breathing.

What had triggered his power? He exercised iron control on the ability his mother had passed onto him. He closed his eyes. Why did he have to be descended from the Celtic Goddess of the Sacred Flame? While he didn’t mind the enhanced strength and the ability to control fire, he could do without the images of people’s suffering.

Straightening, he pulled in another lungful of air and let the smell of hay soothe him. Damn it, he wouldn’t be dragged into his mother’s life!

Maggie Donovan’s reward for healing the emotional wounds of every person around her was a violent death. He felt hot, livid, and his gut churned. He’d promised himself, he’d promised her, that he’d never be a slave to the skills that had led to her death.

He didn’t want to feel Livia Cavalli’s pain. What he wanted was her under him—naked, writhing and moaning. He wanted a quick, enjoyable roll in the hay, no strings attached. Then he’d walk away as he always did. He wanted nothing to do with whatever he’d sensed inside her.

A low howl echoed through the stable.

The mare stamped her hoof and pulled her head back into her stall. Other horses whinnied nervously.

Rafe sent out waves of reassurance to the animals and studied the shadows. He didn’t see anyone.

Just the wind spooking you, Donovan. He turned to leave.

A light breeze blew into the stable and eddied around him, kicking up dust and hay. Whispers reached his ears, dark murmurs carried on the wind.

He followed the sound, knew he should leave, but he’d wondered for a long time what Livia kept locked away.

At the end of the stables, he stepped through a doorway.

Four stalls filled the tight space. They were completely enclosed, all the way to the roof, with only small slits for air.

Strange. The rest of the stalls in the stable were open and welcoming. He stepped up to the first one.

Something big smacked against the wall and Rafe braced himself. The fierce breathing of a big animal filled the air.

Crack. He recognized the sound of hoof against wood. The horse in this stall was mad as a banshee.

“Hey.” He inched closer, the need to soothe building inside him. He opened his mind and reached for the animal.

Anger stormed him. Red covered his vision. Pain streaked down his arms and legs. An enraged neigh rang in his ears.

Rafe took a step back. What the hell was in that stall?

He glanced at the next one. There was no sound, but through the slit in the wood, he saw a big black eye staring back at him.

Summoning the Flame, he held his palm up, watched flames flicker to life on it. If he had to defend himself and the other horses in this stable, he would.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

Livia’s voice shot into the room like a bullet. He extinguished the fire and spun. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her face blank except for a dash of color along her sharp cheekbones.

“I heard whispers. Thought I’d better check it out.”

She strode forward, stood between him and the closest stall, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Never come in here again.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“You know why!” she snapped. “I know Luca’s told you what we are. What I do. I’m sure he mentioned the Venti Tempesta.”

The horses in all four stalls neighed furiously and smashed against the reinforced walls.

“They’re trapped in the bodies of horses?”

She gave a sharp nod.

“How?”

“The wind god, Aelous, selected me as Keeper and I helped him imprison them a thousand years ago. She closed her eyes, like she was remembering the event. “We came to Isola del Vento and used a wild storm to trap the winds’ essence in the horses.” Her eyes opened, shadows in their depths.

“Why did he select you?”

Her jaw tightened. She lifted one slim arm. “My business is my own. The Tempest Winds are the keepers of dark vices. Anger, lust, pride and greed. Stay away from them.”

As Rafe watched, her pale eyes deepened, changed to an unearthly jewel blue. Her white skin glowed, as if she was lit from within, and her hair turned a shining gold.

She was breathtaking. When his gaze reached her face, his heart gave one hard thump. She welcomed the power. Thrived on it, almost as if she was addicted to it. As his mother had been.

“Calma.” A cool, fresh breeze flowed into the room. It circled Livia, him, then rushed at the stalls.

The four occupants stamped and reared. The horse in the nearest stall gave the wall one last kick. Then they all went silent.

Her arm dropped. The glow around her dimmed, but her hair still looked like liquid gold. “Don’t come in here again.”

When she pressed a hand to Rafe’s shoulder and urged him toward the door, his vision dimmed. He saw the young woman, her naked body bruised and bleeding, weeping as though her heart had been smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.

He wanted to heal. He needed to heal. The urge rose in him and wrapped around his throat. He wanted to soothe her pain and see her smile.

His gut spasmed as if he’d been kicked by an angry horse. This time he was prepared, managed to shut the connection off. He didn’t want to see what had happened to Livia.

“I think it’s best we do the mating this afternoon.” She didn’t turn to look at him. “As soon as we can.”

She was trying to get rid of him. He studied her stiff back. Well, maybe it was safer for all of them.

Rafe followed her out into the daylight, wondering what was more dangerous to him—the wicked winds trapped in the bodies of horses or the woman whose festering pain tempted him to break his vow. The vow he’d planned to honor every day of his life.

Chapter Three

Sex permeated the air.

Livia rolled a shoulder. The atmosphere in the breeding shed was thick, hot and suffocating. She rolled her other shoulder, desperate for the edgy tension inside her to dissipate.

Picking up on her unrest, Eos sidestepped as far as her hobbled legs allowed.

“It’s okay, bella. Everything will be fine.” Livia reached out to adjust the leather cover protecting the mare’s neck. “Astraeus will give you a fine bambino.”

There was a commotion at the breeding shed doors. She turned, and when she saw Rafe and the stallion, her breath lodged in her throat like a lump of barbed wire.

Man and horse were at war. Rafe strained to control the shuddering stallion, his biceps bulging, his thigh muscles bunching under his well-worn jeans. She heard him muttering curses. Two of her grooms scurried over to help him keep the stallion in check.

But Astraeus had scented Eos and was ready to play stud.

“We’re going to make one hell of a horse, Liv.” Rafe grinned at her, his teeth white against his bronze skin.

Dio, the man was sexy. Eos bumped against Livia and called out, sensing the stallion, sensing what was coming. Livia gave the mare one last pat and moved out of the way.

She watched Rafe’s face turn serious, the grin gone. He gave orders to the grooms in a mix of English and surprisingly good Italian.

Then Astraeus reared and settled on Eos.

Livia’s stomach compressed to a tight point. As she watched the powerful stallion cover her mare, the taut atmosphere increased.

The mating turned frantic, primal. The stallion lunged forward rhythmically, his teeth latching onto Eos’s leather-covered neck. The mare whinnied, from pleasure or pain, Livia wasn’t sure.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears like the frenzied beat of a voodoo drum. Her muscles pulled tight, her skin flushed. The violent mating had shocking arousal flooding her system, leaving her raw.

Drawn by an irresistible force, she looked at Rafe. He was watching her, his eyelids half-mast. Perspiration plastered back his dark hair, and his shirt was streaked with dirt. She’d never seen a man more attractive.

The heat in her system shot to boiling point. She imagined him pushing her down in the hay on her hands and knees. His naked body covering hers. His hands shaping her buttocks. Him taking her. Plunging into her, over and over, demanding everything.

His gaze drilled into her and she couldn’t look away. The horses continued their fierce union and all Livia could think about was drowning in the sensation Rafe Donovan ignited in her.

He made her feel, and even as her brain screamed at her to run, her body begged her to stay.

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes burned with hunger. His gaze dropped, gliding down her body. Her breasts tingled, her skin tightened, and between her legs she felt a rush of liquid desire.

She couldn’t breathe. The sensual onslaught was a vicious slap to her face. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Along with the desire pulsing inside her came other emotions, rising like bile in her throat. Emotions she refused to feel again.

She ran.

Outside the breeding shed, she pressed her back to the stone wall and lifted her face to the blue sky. She willed a breeze, wanted the coolness on her skin. But it was a hot wind that swirled around her, keeping the warmth in her cheeks and the unrest in her soul.

She clutched her hands together, let her chin drop to her chest. With him near, her control was right at the edge. Even a gentle shift of the wind was beyond her.

“Livia.”

Her head snapped up. No, she couldn’t have him near her right now. Not when she was out of control. “Go away.”

He crowded her against the wall, his big, hot body flush with hers. “I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

When he grabbed her wrists with one of his hands and slammed them above her head, words screamed in her mind.

Fight. Run.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to get away.

The heat of him was staggering. His hard chest ground against her breasts, set her senses on fire. He warmed her cool skin and like an addict she wanted more. She hadn’t felt warm all the way through her body for three hundred years.

His mouth caught hers—hot, wild and fierce. His lips were firm and warm, his tongue thrust against hers. She quivered, then helpless, returned the kiss. He tasted of rage and hunger.

She hadn’t realized a kiss could make her feel so weak, so hot. She strained against him. The riotous emotion that pulsed in him crashed over her like a deep, powerful river and sent her spinning.

All she could do was let herself drown in the wave.

Goddess, she tasted better than all his fantasies.

Rafe pressed harder against her, desperate for the feel of her. He’d imagined she’d taste cool, but he found Livia was all heat.

She moaned against his lips. Need tore at him, violent, mindless. Her skin was cool, but where he touched her, he felt warmth spreading across her skin.

Blood pumped thickly through his veins. The primal act of the animals mating had triggered something in him. When Rafe had seen the pure want and need in Livia’s eyes, his control had snapped.

Keeping her hands caged in one of his, he slid the other hand down her side, brushed the side of her breast, past the indentation of her waist, and placed it on one curved buttock. He pulled her hips closer, pushed himself forward and ground his straining erection into her.

The barrier of clothes separated them, but the sensation was stunning. Even through denim and her jodhpurs, he felt the heat. She bucked against him and hot need pumped into him. The wave of harsh, primitive arousal went straight to his groin.

He was inches away from dragging her down onto the fresh grass. He wanted to strip her naked and take her here, pound himself inside her until they both exploded. He didn’t care that grooms could stumble on them at any moment. He wanted to know what it felt like to lose himself in Livia Cavalli.

Deepening the kiss, he took more. She jerked her hands out of his grip and shoved them roughly into his hair. The small noises in her throat sounded like a trapped animal. She writhed her gorgeous body against him.

His power swelled inside him, unsummoned and out of control. He realized that just taking her body wouldn’t be enough.

He wanted more. His hands slid over her curves. He wanted to pour his healing power into her as he poured himself into her. The need rose like a wave, unstoppable. He wanted to see the pain buried behind her eyes disappear.

A part of him fought the compulsion. A dim voice in his head told him to stop, to remember his promise, but the wave pushed him on.

Maybe she could make him forget the dark anger burning inside him. Make him forget the scent of burning flesh and the spill of blood.

His hands glided up to cup her face. He tugged the band out of her hair and let the locks spill around them. His fingers twisted in the mass of gold, he tugged her head back to look into her blue eyes.

The power poured out of him in a rush, and he let it stream into Livia.

She jerked like she’d been hit by lightning. Her eyes widened until they dominated her face.

“Dio.” The word was a choked whisper. “No. No.” She fought him. Violently. Wildly. Desperately.

She yanked herself away from him, stumbled and fell to the grass on her hands and knees.

The break in the connection left Rafe reeling. It took him a moment to rein in his powers. His gaze traced her slender back.

What had he done? The muscles in his jaw flexed as he crouched beside her.

“Don’t touch me.” She didn’t look at him, just stared at the grass, the breath sawing in and out of her lungs.

“Okay.” But he wanted to touch her. For some reason this woman made him want to hold her and fight all her battles. He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? Playing knight—in shining armor or not—wasn’t his style.

An image of his mother—tied to a post with flames licking at her feet—sprang into his head. He’d made a promise to himself over her charred body that he wouldn’t follow her path.

Today he’d come very close to breaking that promise.

Livia pushed to her feet, her face pale. “What the hell are you?”

He stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He never talked about what lived in his blood. But she was the Keeper of the Winds and had her own powers. He knew she wasn’t going to tie him up and toss a match at him.

“I’m a descendant of the Goddess of the Sacred Flame.”

Livia’s brow creased. “Vesta?”

He shrugged. “That was her Roman name. In Ireland, they called her Brigit.”

“Luca never mentioned.”

Rafe shrugged again. “I don’t talk about it. And I don’t usually use my powers on humans.” He spat the last words. They tasted bad on his tongue.

“Whatever you did to me before, don’t do again.”

He wasn’t going to admit his power had been out of his control. Instead, he focused on her tousled hair and swollen lips. Goddess, she was beautiful. It made him itch to reach for her. “You seemed to enjoy me kissing you.”

Her teeth clicked together. “Not the kiss, the other thing.”

“So it’s okay to kiss you, just not to heal you?”

The breath whistled through her teeth. “I don’t need healing. Just don’t touch me at all. The mating is done, and a room is prepared for you in the villa for tonight. But tomorrow I want you off my island.”

He watched her stalk away and his smile dissolved. She clearly didn’t want him touching whatever was tucked away inside her. That should make him happy.

But he wanted to touch Livia and, goddess help him, a part of him wanted to heal her.

Had it been like this for his mother? Had she been unable to resist the urge, been at its mercy? His hands curled tight. He forced his fingers to relax, one by one.

It was best for both him and Livia if he got off this island.

One night. He had to get through one night, then he’d be far away from the temptation of Livia Cavalli.

Chapter Four

Rafe jerked awake, hands twisting in the sheets. Throbbing agony filled his chest.

But it wasn’t his. It belonged to someone else.

He pushed the sheet away from his naked body. The bedroom was dark as pitch and outside a strong wind rattled the windows.

He strode to the French doors. In the moonlight, he saw a vicious wind scraping across the landscape, bending trees and knocking over anything light enough to move.

Something was very wrong. He sensed it in the air, felt it in his blood.

He rubbed a hand over his heart to ease the ache. Was Livia okay? Was it her anguish storming through him?

He pulled on jeans, threw on a shirt he didn’t bother to button and strode out of the room. Following his hunch that the double doors at the end of the hall led to Livia’s bedroom, he shoved open the doors.

She was awake.

Her slim body was naked except for two scraps of black lace. Her skin glowed like marble in the moonlight. The breath in his lungs evaporated, lust poured into his bloodstream. She was like a living statue, beautiful and perfect.

She looked at his unbuttoned shirt, her gaze lingering, then her chin jerked up. She turned her back to him and yanked a black T-shirt over her head. Before he could say something, she snatched a pair of slim-fitting black jodhpurs off the bed, pulled them on, then tugged on a pair of boots.

“Go back to your room.” She swept by him, tugging her hair back.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She shot him an unreadable look. “The winds are causing trouble at the stables.”

Don’t get involved, Donovan. He should go back to his bed. In a few hours, the sun would rise and he’d be far away from Isola del Vento. Safe, back in his own world.

But there was no way he’d let her go down there alone, even if she was the damned Keeper of the Winds. “I’m coming with you.”

She held up a hand. “The winds are my business.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t care. Today, Duchess, you’ll have to accept some help.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have time for this. If you’re coming, fine, come.”

Together they ran down to the stables, the icy wind tearing at their clothes. They stepped into the building. Inside it was quiet, the lights on low. Rafe heard the hushed snuffles of the horses.

Livia strode to a stall and pushed it open. “Here.”

A white horse lay on her side, her breathing labored. Livia crouched beside her, murmuring soothing sounds, her hands running over the mare’s swollen belly. “It’s okay, bella.”

He crouched beside Livia, deliberately moving close. He ran a hand over the mare’s flank. Her agony melded into him. “She’s in pain.”

“I worked that much out.” Livia blew out a sharp breath. “It’s the damned winds. They find new ways to wreak havoc and pain.” Her teeth worried her bottom lip. “They’ve targeted the horses before.”

“You don’t have a vet on staff?”

“I do, but he’s in Rome for a conference. And because of the winds’ power—” she shook her head “—even if he were here, there wouldn’t be much he could do.” She moved a hand down the mare’s nose. “Sweet Sophia. I was there when she was born. I hate seeing her like this.”

Goddess, Livia looked almost vulnerable. Again a warning rang in Rafe’s head—Don’t get involved. Don’t get any closer to this woman who threatened to suck him back into the mire of his past.

But he couldn’t resist the call of the hurting horse, or the shimmer of desperation in Livia’s blue eyes.

“Maybe I can help.”

Right now, he’d promise anything to ease the distress in Livia’s eyes.

Livia kept her eyes locked on Rafe’s hands, which moved in a hypnotic motion over the mare. Who knew such a tough man could be so gentle?

His hands were wide with long fingers and blunt nails. Scarred. Not the hands of man who sat at a desk all day.

He stroked and murmured comforting noises to Sophia. His dark hair fell over his forehead. He was completely focused on the animal, locked with her, breathing with her.

With each circle of those hands, Livia wondered how they would feel on her, stroking, caressing. She swallowed, but it didn’t ease the rock lodged in her throat. He’d given her a taste of it earlier, so it was easy to fantasize how they’d feel on her naked skin. Sliding over her, calluses creating incredible sensation.

What would it feel like to have him focused on her?

Heat raced across her face. What was she thinking? She brushed back the hair that had escaped from her ponytail. She kept her distance from men, had good reason not to trust them. And she didn’t want anything to do with this one.

What had happened between them at the breeding shed still echoed in her. He’d ripped the scabs off her secret wounds and left her choking with hot emotion. The wind kept her cool, kept the horrors of her past buried where they couldn’t hurt her. Rafe made her feel, and in doing so, brought all those horrors to the surface.

“Livia?”

His voice broke though her thoughts. She looked at him. Why did he have to look so rough and dangerous? Why did he have to be so tempting?

The groove on his brow made her guess he’d called her name a few times. “Si.”

“I need your help.” He grabbed her hand, his fingers scorching hot on her skin. He tugged her closer, until their shoulders and hips touched, and pressed her hand against Sophia’s side.

She stared hard at the horse, but being close to Rafe had electricity running through her system. How was she supposed to focus?

His hands resumed their fascinating movements. This time she saw the red glow beneath them. Sophia made a sound close to a moan.

“You’re hurting her.”

“Healing hurts,” he said between gritted teeth.

She turned her head and studied him. Perspiration slid down his face. His jaw was locked tight. “It hurts you, too?”

He didn’t speak, but his face answered clearly. Sophia stirred, her breathing a little easier. The longer Livia watched Rafe, the more in awe she felt. He was magic.

She’d always known he had a special talent with horses—it was why Luca had hired him. Rafe could tame the wildest horse and coax the most broken.

She had lived with her power a long time, but it kept her distant from people. Yes, she protected them, but she couldn’t enrich their lives the way Rafe could.

He lifted his head. “She’s going to be fine.”

Sophia’s belly was back to normal. “Grazie. You have a gift.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Some might call it a curse.”

Did he? “You said you don’t use it on humans.”

He was silent a long time. He leaned over the horse, his hands moving, checking. “I inherited the gift from my mother. She was the most talented healer I’ve ever seen.”

Livia heard the anger and pain woven into his words. “Was?”

His jaw tensed so tightly she thought it would splinter. “She healed the wrong person. The son of a religious fanatic.”

Unable to stop herself, Livia reached out and placed a hand on his arm. Was this the rage that lived in him, running deep and hot?

“Despite the fact the bastard’s son was going to live, he gathered up his cronies for a good old-fashioned witch hunt.” Rafe swiveled his head to look at her. Storm clouds swirled in his eyes. “He burned her at the stake.”

Dio. The furious sorrow pumping off him swamped Livia. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

And she didn’t know why she was asking. But for some reason, she needed to know. “Tell me.”

“He forced me to watch. I saw them light the fire, heard her screams.” Rafe fingered the scar on his jaw. “I tried to save her….”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

Livia’s fingers squeezed his arm. She imagined a small dark-haired boy watching his mother die such a horrible death with no way to save her. His past held painful memories, just as hers did.

“I remember the smell. I can’t get it out of my head.” He looked up, but he was looking through her, seeing the events of that terrible night.

“Your father?”

“Died when I was young. I lived with cousins until I was old enough to leave.”

“Wouldn’t your mother have wanted you to carry on her tradition and use your gift?”

He stood, knocking her hand off his arm. “Over her charred body I swore I’d never heal a person again. Never be a slave to it like she was.” He spun to face her. “Instead, I used that power for revenge. Broke every rule she believed in and killed all the men responsible for her death. Burned them, like they burned her.”

There was silence, except for Sophia’s quiet breathing.

Heart beating hard, Livia got to her feet. If there was ever a man in need of healing, it was this one. He was as filled with pain as she was—they just dealt with it in different ways. He lived and breathed his rage, while she fought to keep hers locked away.

“Do you expect me to condemn you?”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his low-riding jeans. “I used my power to kill.”

Her gaze traced the strong legs covered by faded denim, the muscled contours of his chest, the dark hair falling over his angular face. Those angry eyes.

She knew he didn’t want pity or need sympathy. “You think you’re unique?”

His head snapped up, his gray eyes hot.

She splayed her arms. “You don’t think I’ve used my powers to kill?”

He frowned. “If you have, it was to protect the innocent.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes. But I’ve taken my revenge, as well.”

As he opened his mouth to respond, a brutal wind screamed through the stables. It ripped through Livia’s clothes, chilled her skin. She felt the malevolence it carried, the wickedness, the need to hurt and harm.

She planted her feet. So, it had begun.

The Tempest Winds were making a bid for freedom.

“What the hell?” Rafe turned in a circle, moving closer to her.

Livia called her wind. Power rose inside her. Her skin tingled and blood thundered through her veins. The emotion she’d struggled with since Rafe had stepped onto her island washed away, left her cool and focused.

She glanced at him. “You should go back to the house.”

He spread his legs, hands at his hips like a gunslinger. “I’m not leaving you alone to face whatever the hell is going on.”

No one had ever stood beside her to face the winds. She’d always been alone. That he wanted to left warmth in her chest. She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off.

“I’m coming, Livia. End of argument.”

Already he nipped at her composure, filling her with awareness, desire and all the things she’d lived without. It seemed not even the wind could shield her from this man.

Chapter Five

Livia stepped though the doorway to the enclosed stalls, Rafe close behind her. All the wind dropped away, like the stillness at the eye of a hurricane.

The Tempest Winds, entrapped in their equine bodies, were silent. But she felt the power humming through the air.

They were waiting for their moment.

She flexed her hand, prepared for anything. One of the horses gave an angry scream, the sound eerily human. It kicked against the walls. The other three joined in, smashing their big bodies against their enclosures.

She raised a hand. “Calma.”

But the winds didn’t settle. Instead, their frenzied actions increased. She ground her teeth together. “Arresto!”

No reaction. The screams and smashing continued. Then four dark winds flew out of the stalls, squeezing through the air slits. They flew into the room, chaotic and angry, like wild bees on a rampage.

When the darkness flew toward Rafe, Livia’s chest contracted. No! An image of his broken, bleeding body flashed into her head and adrenaline surged through her.

She jumped in front of him, threw up her hands, urging her own wind to meet the menace. The wind stung her eyes and whipped the end of her ponytail in her face.

Air crashed into air, birthing a small storm packed with primal power.

Madre del Dio! The Tempest Winds were stronger than she’d guessed. All this time, they’d been building their strength beyond what she’d thought possible.

If they were freed…Her mind shuddered at the horrible possibilities. She had to stop this.

A plank of wood vibrated off the wall and flew at them. Before she could react, Rafe lunged in front of her and the plank smacked into his shoulder.

“Stay back!” Rafe had no right to put himself in danger.

He shook his head, his scar stark against his tanned skin. “We’ll fight them together.”

The stables rattled with the force of the wind. Breaking wood screeched overhead. The lights flickered, then went off.

Rafe held up his hand. When she saw the ball of fire resting on his wide palm, the flames licking up his arm, her mouth dropped open. Another plank flew at them, illuminated in firelight.

He threw the ball and the board disintegrated into ash. More debris followed, and each time he burned it to ash.

No one had ever protected her. She fought to swallow the uncomfortable lump clogging her throat. No one had ever stood between her and danger.

No one had ever stood by her side.

She pushed away the shock of feeling, and with Rafe beside her, she twirled her hand in the air. A spiraling whirlwind developed in front of her. She thrust out her arm, directed it to war against the dark winds.

A groan of wood filled the air. A beam crashed down from the roof and landed a few feet from them.

“They’re tearing the stables apart.” Rafe shot another streak of fire. “We need to get out of here.”

Another beam crashed down. It glanced Livia’s shoulder. She staggered under the force, her arm going numb and white spots dancing in front of her eyes. She fought back the pain.

“I can’t leave.” She was the only thing stopping the winds from escaping. “It’s my duty.”

“Screw your duty.”

Rafe wrapped his arms around Livia, ready to toss her over his shoulder and drag her out, when the wind dropped away.

He pulled her closer. “What’s going on?”

A frown marred her face. “I don’t know. A new tactic, maybe?”

He stared hard at the stalls. Why had the winds backed off?

Then Livia cried out and dropped to her knees. She pressed her hands over her ears. “No!”

Rafe’s heart kicked into overdrive. “What is it?”

“Make them stop!”

He dropped beside her, afraid to touch her. Tears welled in her blue eyes. “Goddess, Liv, tell me what to do.”

“They won’t stop,” she whispered in a broken voice.

Now he heard them, four voices carried on the air. Whispers, murmurs. Taunting and tormenting.

Do you remember being torn from your family? The voice was loud and harsh. They did nothing to stop the man who stole you away. You should be angry. Let the anger through.

“No…no.” She shook her head from side to side. Her eyes looked vacant, lost in another time.

Do you remember being forced to serve others? A different voice this time. From the earliest hours to late at night. Working until your fingers bled. You deserved better.

Her teeth clamped onto her lip so hard that blood trickled down her chin. Horrified at what the winds were saying, Rafe pulled her into his arms. Her body was stiff.

“Shut up, damn you.” How could he fight them? Wildly, he glanced at the horse stalls. There had to be something he could do to stop this.

Do you remember the beautiful houses they lived in, the riches they had? This voice was wistful, then turned hard. Do you remember the dark, dirty cellar where you slept? No better than an animal. Didn’t you want more?

Do you remember when you blossomed from child to woman? This voice was seductive and edged in malice. Do you remember the master forcing you into his bed? Raping you over and over. Sharing you with his friends.

Horrified, Rafe’s arms tightened around her. This was the pain living inside her. He felt her heartbeat accelerate, pounding hard against her chest.

She was shaking. He gripped her face, forced her to look at him. “I’m here with you, Liv. I’m here.” He wanted to protect her, to take it all away.

Do you really think you can heal her?

Rafe’s head jerked up. A frigid breeze swirled around them, and for a second he thought he saw the shapes of men forming in the wind.

You renounced your powers for good reason. The voice sounded faintly amused. Remember your mother, the stench of her burning flesh. Remember her screams.

His stomach roiled, bile rose in his throat like acid. In his arms, Livia pressed closer, for comfort or to offer it?

You did well to embrace your fury. The harsh voice was flooded with approval. It festers and lives inside you. Hold on to it.

Despite his efforts to remain in control, rage oozed within, charring his insides, chewing at his heart. He did remember, as he had every day for the past twenty-four years.

You killed them all. Your hands were coated with their blood. They deserved it for what they did to her, to you.

Livia lifted her head, sympathy and understanding in the depths of her blue eyes, her face streaked with tears.

“Please.” She gripped his shoulders. “Leave. I will try to stop them.”

She was crazy. Here she was being selfless, like his mother had been right up to the moment they set her alight. In a burst of clarity, Rafe realized he’d do anything to protect this woman.

“Forget it. I’m not leaving you with them.” And screw these mind-messing winds.

He stood and called the Flame. It ignited on both his palms, burning red-hot. It chased out the sorrow of his memories and the horror of learning Livia’s. He tossed the flames at the closest stall.

“No!” Livia screamed.

The wood caught fire. The flames licked hungrily at the stall and the horse inside squealed. The winds picked up again, tearing through the stables, extinguishing the fire.

Rafe snatched Livia up and tossed her over his shoulder. With an arm wrapped around her, he raced for the entrance, fighting the windstorm with each step. Around them, wood splintered and horses screamed.

“The horses.” She struggled against him.

He cursed. The fear of the horses beat at him, warred with the need to get Livia out. He let her drop back to the ground.

“We need to get out.” He pulled her to him, his hand tangled in her hair.

She pressed her hands against his chest. “Please.”

He muttered a curse, then unlatched the nearest stall doors. She reached for the next one. Horses thundered out, heading for freedom.

When the last animal was freed, he grabbed her, afraid she might try to go back to the Tempest Winds. They raced outside. The cold gale tore at them with vicious claws.

Rafe realized in an instant they weren’t going to make it to the house.

“The old stable.” Livia waved at the nearest building. It was old, but solidly built.

He held her close to his side as they ran. Once inside, he pulled the wooden doors closed with a crash.

The winds stilled roared furiously outside, but inside, the sound was dulled. The empty stable was dark and reeked of rotting wood. Moonlight made a courageous attempt to penetrate the grimy windows.

“Come on.” He pulled her into one of the stone-walled stalls.

Livia sank onto a pile of hay. He saw the pain swimming in her eyes. He’d never seen her look so fragile.

More than ever, he wanted to take away her suffering. The urge was so powerful, so wound around his insides, he knew he’d never be able to fight it.

He now knew why his mother had risked her life to help others. Livia’s pain tore at him as much as it hurt her. As much as his own did. He’d do anything to free her from it.

He slammed the stall doors shut behind him, locking them together in the small space.

When he turned to her again, he was surprised to see her standing. Shoulders back, spine stiff. Her eyes blank as frost. The ice princess was back.

“You had no right to pull me out of the fight.”

♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥

Chapter Six

Livia fought hard to keep her face empty of what she was feeling. The memories of her past, stirred up by the winds, festered beneath her skin.

She lifted her chin. “I have a job to do. If the winds get free, if they kill, it will be my fault.”

What she wanted to do was cry, scream, run far away. She didn’t want Rafe to see her pain, her weakness. Pressing her hands together, she refused to meet his eyes.

She couldn’t go back to that dark place. Couldn’t be that broken woman again. She knew in her mind it hadn’t been her fault, but she felt shame that Rafe knew what had been done to her.

A dark frown settled on his handsome face. “What’s going on, Liv?”

She bit down on her lip. “Nothing. I’ve told you over and over I must do my duty.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “No way. You can’t go out in this frenzy. They’ll kill you.”

She tried for her coolest gaze, the one she knew he detested. “Every hundred years, when the powers of the Venti Tempesta have built to critical levels, they try to escape. I will stop them, as I’ve done every century since I became the Keeper.”

Rafe’s face went blank. “Every century? ”

She tilted her head. “Luca didn’t tell you I was immortal?”

“What? No.” Rafe pressed a hand to the stall wall. “How old are you?”

“It isn’t polite to ask a woman’s age.”

His hand snaked out and wrapped around the base of her throat. “Livia, I want to know.”

If he wanted all the gory details, she’d give them to him. “I was born at the end of the reign of the House of Medici. To a family of slaves stolen from the north. I became Keeper of the Winds three hundred years ago.”

“Mother of God.” Rafe’s gaze skimmed her face. “That’s why you’re blond and blue-eyed. You aren’t Italian at all.”

“Yes. Aeolus passed the power to me.” She’d never forget the day the wind god had appeared in her room. She’d been beaten, bleeding, and he’d offered her a way out.

Rafe’s fingers tightened on her neck. “Why you?”

“He sensed my pain. My need for power.” He’d known she’d been desperate enough to trade her humanity for it.

“You became the Keeper and your life ceased to be your own.”

“I had no life before. I traded pain for power.” She spread her arms. “Anger for the wind.”

“Three hundred years.” His thumb brushed her skin in a light caress. “You’ve lived with your pain a long time.”

Her stomach rolled. She gripped his wrist. “I have to go.”

“You know it’s too wild out there, immortal or not.” His fingers brushed over her racing pulse. “You know you don’t have the control you need.”

He was right. The winds’ earlier taunts had left her vulnerable. She needed time to shore up her defenses. At least while the winds wasted their powers on this tempest, they didn’t have the strength to escape. But once the storm died down…

Rafe backed her into the wall, his fingers still gentle around her throat. “I see the pain in your eyes. I feel it when I touch you.”

She shook her head. “When I became the Keeper, I left all that behind. I gave up my humanity to forget.”

“And dedicated eternity to protecting others.”

“I’ve been protecting myself!” The words flew out of her.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing her face. “What do you mean?”

“Aeolus offered me the chance to suppress my emotions.” Her chest heaved. “Every time I use the power of the wind, it washes away my feelings. It leaves me in control.”

Sympathy burned in Rafe’s gray eyes. “No pain? No suffering?”

She didn’t want him to pity her. “That’s right. And he offered me revenge. You aren’t the only one to use their gift to kill. I killed every man who violated me.”

Rafe brushed a finger across her cheekbone. “But it’s still there. I know better than anyone revenge isn’t good at taking away the pain.”

Overwhelming hurt rushed into her chest until she throbbed with it. She remembered cowering in the dark, hearing her master’s footsteps coming, him laughing with his friends. Coming to rip her apart again, to degrade her and destroy her soul.

“Why are you doing this? You told me you don’t want other people’s suffering. You don’t want to be your mother.”

“I don’t know why.” His smile was wry. “I just know I can’t seem to stop.”

“I can’t be that broken woman again,” she whispered.

He pressed closer, his heat warming her skin. He lifted her chin with one finger. “She’s inside you, Livia. Until you confront her, she’ll always be there.”

She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to my island?” She stared up at him, the brutal pressure choking her. “Before you, I’d never felt like this. I never felt at all.”

He pressed closer. “Don’t you want to live again?”

She trembled. His words wrapped around her, tempted her, made her stomach jitter. She lashed out. “Like you? Wallow in the anger, burn up with it?”

A faint smile tugged his lips. “Touché. You’re right. I’ve let it rule me too long.”

“So what’s left?”

His hands slid over her. He leaned down until his lips brushed hers. “Maybe together we can find something different.”

She hadn’t thought she’d feel desire, not after everything she’d been through tonight. Not with the memories so close.

But this man generated feeling in her despite everything else.

She pressed her hands flat against his chest. Under them, she felt the steady knock of his heart. Was there really another way to wipe away the memories? Did she have the courage to take a risk?

His shirt wasn’t buttoned, and unable to stop herself, she shifted her hand until it pressed against his warm skin. Against her will, her finger moved in a caress, stroked one flat male nipple.

The hard muscles of his stomach tensed and his breath hitched. But his hands stayed at his sides, letting her lead this dance. A trickle of feminine power seeped into her system. Something she’d never felt before.

“Touch me, Livia.” His words were a seduction. “I need you to touch me.”

His husky tone shivered through her. “Why?”

“I need you to chase away the anger. Show me there’s something else.”

She gave up fighting against the need straining inside her. Her hands slid down his arms and linked with his. “And I need you to make me feel again.”

Rafe’s mouth crashed down on hers and she moaned. The taste of him was enthralling, more exhilarating than the strongest drug.

He hauled her closer, shaped her shoulder blades and traced her spine with eager fingers. She let her head drop back, and those clever lips moved down her throat, trailing electric awareness. His teeth nipped at her skin and she groaned, wanted more.

Hunger grew. Livia hadn’t known it was possible to feel like this. Her childhood had taught her what a man shouldn’t do to a woman. Rafe was showing her something very different.

She realized he was keeping his hands gentle, not pressuring her. Her heart flipped over. He was giving her control.

But she wanted the full force of his desire, and she knew Rafe wouldn’t give it to her unless she showed him how much she wanted it.

With a swift move, she knocked him back, using enough of her power that he fell and tumbled into the pile of hay.

When Livia lowered herself to straddle Rafe’s lean hips, a smile curled her lips. For the first time, she was giving herself to a man. On her terms.

She gripped the bottom of her T-shirt. His eyes were drawn there like a magnet. As she slowly dragged it up, baring her flat stomach, she savored the fire in his steel-colored eyes. Another inch, and the catch in his breath filled her with a thrilling power.

He made her feel so strong. Stronger even than when she called the wind.

She tugged the shirt off, her bra followed close behind. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her breasts. “Touch me.”

She was right. His callused hands felt wonderful on her skin. He lifted the weight of her breasts, flicked a finger over one nipple, then the other. She closed her eyes against the sensations.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, Liv.”

With him, she did.

Desperate for more of him, she leaned down and ran her tongue over the planes of his chest. She explored all of him, scraping her nails over his tanned skin, studying each scar, sliding her body lower until her lips met denim. She’d never known exploring a man’s body could bring her such pleasure.

With shaking fingers, she flicked open the top button on his jeans.

His belly clenched and he hissed. “Careful, Liv. If you go too far, my control might get shaky.”

She shot him a smile and dragged his zipper down. “I hope so.”

His erection sprang into her waiting hands. She shaped him. Dio, he was big.

“Goddess!” he gasped.

She tormented him, enjoyed every groan that tore from his lips. Then she scooted back and lowered her head.

His hips bucked, driving him into her mouth. Livia held on, flicking her tongue over him, savoring the empowering feeling of driving him wild.

“Livia, I…” His hands twisted in her hair. “I want to be inside you.”

She rose and shimmied out of her pants, helped by his rough hands. She looked down at him, at his half-closed eyes, his lean muscled frame. One gorgeous man spread out for her enjoyment. One strong man, secure enough to let her have control.

Together they removed his jeans and he kicked them away. She knelt again on his strong thighs, nerves tickling her insides.

“I won’t hurt you, cara.” He reached out and gripped her thighs.

The Italian endearment made her smile. She stared at his tanned hand resting against the paleness of her skin. “I know you won’t.”

She lifted her hips.

The broad head of his erection prodded at her entrance. The burning heat made her gasp. Inch by inch she lowered herself onto him, the thickness of him stretching her.

Soon he was fully sheathed inside her. The pressure edged to pain, desire a hot coil resting low in her belly. Her gaze clashed with his. His face was strained, hunger etched on it. His big body tensed under her, like a predator waiting to pounce.

She leaned forward and pressed her hands flat on his chest. The slight change in position drove him deeper into her. He filled her, big, hot and hard. They both groaned.

His hands gripped her hips, digging hard into her skin. He rocked her body. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m not done yet.” She started to ride.

Her rhythm was gentle at first, a steady rise and fall of hips. But with his rough hands urging her on, with wild desire driving her higher, the pace increased.

It was a fast, hot race. Flesh slapped against flesh and Livia couldn’t stand the amazing sensation burning through her.

This wouldn’t be enough. One time with this man would only leave her wanting more. One day, one week, one year—no amount of time would cool her hunger for him.

Her thighs gripped him and her fingers clutched at his slick skin. Unbearable need tore through her and she held on as it grew.

Then it hit. She shattered, her body convulsing, and her back arched, driving him deeper.

Completion slammed into her, a completion she knew would sear her and forever make her his.

Chapter Seven

Rafe gritted his teeth as Livia’s body rippled around him. He fought not to find his own pleasure. Not yet. This first time was for her.

She slumped down on him, her face nestled against his throat. Her skin was now warm and glossy with perspiration. No longer his ice princess.

She lifted her head. Color filled her cheeks and her lips were swollen and red from his kisses.

“That was the first time I…”

When her words trailed off, Rafe realized it was the first time she’d found pleasure with a man. And he’d been the one to take her there.

Damn. The ground under him suddenly turned very slippery. He’d thought desire and shared pain had drawn him to Livia. Hot and cold chills washed over him. Now he found something deep buried under it all.

“Why haven’t you…” Her words trailed off again and she moved her hips. His hard erection was still lodged inside her. “Why haven’t you come?”

His muscles tensed to breaking point. “Are you okay if I take the top this time?”

She gave a small nod.

His fingers flexed on her skin. “You have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

It wasn’t her words that convinced him. It was the flame he saw spark in her eyes.

He rolled, pinned her down in the hay. At last he sank fully into her body. Her eyes closed and her husky cries echoed around them.

He pulled back, waited until her eyes met his. Then he slammed into her. The hot, scorching desire eating at him took over. He’d never been a gentle man, and as much as he wished he could keep it tender for her, he wanted her too much.

She cried out, but he heard the delight in it. Her hands raked his shoulders, moved up and gripped his hair. She lifted her hips and met each thrust with her own.

He continued driving into her. Desire was fever in his blood. This woman accepted him as he was. She understood what seethed inside him, understood what it was to hold power. Understood how it felt to live with the agony of the past.

But wrapped up in her, buried in her, he found that all that had slipped away. It was just the two of them and the intensity they brought each other.

Her muscles gripped him again and he felt her second wave of release. She screamed this time, her teeth latching on to his shoulder.

With a groan, Rafe gave himself up to the hot release thundering through him and spilled himself deep inside her body.

The sound of the wind still roared outside the stable. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the inside.

Livia pressed her face to Rafe’s chest, loving the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her. The smell of hay mixed with the scent of their loving.

A shadow moved through her contentment. She knew it wouldn’t be long before she had to face the winds.

Feeling—deep, strong and frightening—fused inside her. Rafe had unlocked it. Her chest constricted, bittersweet sadness welled in her throat.

But she had to let him go.

He only had a lifetime, while hers was endless. He had power, but he was human, and she had given up her humanity long ago.

If he wanted to stay with her, their time together would be short. She couldn’t offer him a home filled with children, something she knew would help ease the anger and sorrow inside him. She couldn’t leave Isola del Vento or her duty as Keeper of the Winds.

She inhaled his masculine scent, unfamiliar tears pricking her eyes. Even if he did stay, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to watch him grow old and die. To be left alone with more memories to haunt her.

He shifted and rolled her on top of him. Those fabulous steel-gray eyes focused on her and a sexy smile curved his lips. “I can hear you thinking.”

She could do this. She had to. “As soon as the winds have calmed, I will force them back into confinement. Then you must leave the island.”

His smile disappeared. “Just like that?”

She tried for her usual expressionless look. “There can never be anything between us. You know that.”

“No. I don’t.”

“I’m immortal and you’re not.”

“I know I’m on the verge of falling in love with you.”

She gasped. His words were a sharp, twisting knife to the belly. She shook her head, found it hard to force words past her lips. “What do people like us know about love? No one’s ever shown me love.”

When she tried to move off him, he gripped her arms and held her in place. “I think I started falling the first time you looked down your nose at me and I saw the shadows hiding in your beautiful eyes.”

He was tearing her open. “Rafe…don’t do this. It can never be.”

“Do you love me?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know what love is.”

He sighed, slid his hand under her chin and tilted it up. “Let me show you. Let me show you how I feel.”

How could she resist such a plea? “Rafe—”

He slid a hand down her spine, cupped one buttock. He shifted her hips and once again she felt him, hot and hard, nudging between her thighs.

He entered her with exquisite slowness and she fought to stop her eyelids from fluttering closed.

His eyes darkened. “If this is all we have, let me give you something that will last forever.”

In three hundred years, Livia had never regretted giving up her humanity to become the Keeper. Now she wished she were just an ordinary woman. One who had something to offer the man she was falling for. “Show me.”

This time the loving was slow. The desire ebbed and flowed, generated warmth along every nerve. His hands ran all over her, a caress, a savoring. Like he would never get enough of the feel of her.

No one had ever given her love. Her family was a distant memory, her childhood one of horror, and her life as the Keeper one of power and respect. Now with Rafe she was just a woman being loved by a man.

Leaving him would be the final blow to her already splintered heart. She would mourn the loss of this man for eternity.

But for now, he was in her arms and she would enjoy every minute of it.

He sat up, so they were face to face, chest to chest, as close as they could be. She continued to move her hips, continued the intense slide of her body against his. Her hands danced over his firm skin, kneaded his shoulders.

When his big hands clasped her face, she knew what he wanted.

He looked into her eyes, his gray ones stormy with emotion, and she knew she couldn’t deny him.

When he found his release, the blazing heat of his power poured into her as his seed did.

He’d warned her that healing hurt, and he hadn’t lied. Her body erupted, pleasure and pain pouring into her soul. She screamed and rode them down into the dark abyss.

Chapter Eight

Rafe held Livia, his chest heaving under the lash of his own pleasure and the strength of the agony flooding him.

She convulsed in his arms, her sobs tearing him apart. He saw every one of her dark memories, suffered every degree of her breath-stealing pain.

“Hold on, baby.” He wanted to go back, to destroy every man and woman who’d done her harm. But all he could do was offer her this gift of healing. “I’ve got you.”

She collapsed on him, her head sinking to his shoulder. Her chest rose in the same ragged cadence as his, and her heartbreaking sobs ate at him.

Goddess, he hated that he’d done this to her. He pressed his cheek to her hair and closed his eyes. He should never have touched her.

“Please, baby, don’t cry.” It was killing him.

“I’m okay.” Her tone was watery.

“Must be someone else crying then.”

She lifted her head, blue eyes shimmering, her face flushed. “The memories are still there.”

He brushed her hair back. “They always will be.”

“But they don’t hurt anymore. I remember, but the wounds are closed.”

She’d carry the scars from those wounds for eternity, they made her who she was, but now they wouldn’t haunt her. He inhaled her clean, cool scent. The biggest miracle was that in healing Livia, his own anger had dimmed. With her in his arms, the sight of blood and the stench of burning flesh were just a hazy memory.

He knew his mother would be happy he’d used his legacy to heal this woman.

Abruptly the howling wind outside stopped. The deafening silence was sinister.

“Dio!” Livia scrambled to her feet. “The winds, we must get to them.”

As she pulled on her clothes, Rafe watched her eyes turn ice blue. She was no longer the warm lover. She was once again the Keeper of Winds.

He tugged on his jeans and didn’t bother with his shirt. She would always be the Keeper. Like his mother, her duty to her power would always come first.

But now he felt nothing but pride in her. As his mother had, Livia gave everything, even her humanity, to protect others. While he wanted to be selfish enough to enjoy the time they had together, it wasn’t fair to inflict more sorrow on her by forcing her to watch him age and die.

Somehow he had to find the strength to leave her. The strength to stay away when he knew he’d think of her every day.

Dawn’s weak light crept over the island. It illuminated the mess the Tempest Winds had left. Livia stared at the trees and wreckage strewn across the ground. The roof of the main stable was half torn away.

Her heart thudded dully in her chest. She would face the winds here, and she knew they were more powerful than they’d ever been.

She, meanwhile, had never felt more unsteady. She felt different. Emotion swirled inside her like a hurricane, so many different feelings she couldn’t separate them.

Somehow the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the breeze, Rafe’s spicy scent and the beat of her own heart were more acute than ever before. She felt more alive.

The specters of her past still hid in the back of her mind, but they’d lost the power to hurt her. Rafe had given her that. She realized the emotion didn’t make her weak. With Rafe by her side, she was stronger than before. She glanced at him. One emotion rose in her, more insistent than the rest.

Was this bright, bursting feeling love?

They’d only taken a few steps outside when a horse broke through the doors of the adjacent stable with a furious scream.

The black stallion was big, its eyes glowing demonic red. It was the one infected by anger.

Livia’s heart hammered, hard and violent. She raised her hands.

Rafe ran forward, leaping between the horse and her.

“Rafe!” She knew what he was trying to do. Trying to connect with the beast, even knowing what lived inside it. Trying to reach the poor creature that had become evil’s prison.

It wouldn’t work. The horse’s rage flooded the air. The need to conquer and destroy.

Sharp hooves slammed into Rafe, glancing his temple and hitting his chest. Livia’s scream echoed in her ears. Her insides twisted as her heart raced like an out-of-control train.

He went down under the horse, blood running from the gash on his forehead.

Time slowed, as if some god had slowed the clock. She ran and called her power. She didn’t care the if the wind was free. All she cared about was saving Rafe. She wouldn’t let him die.

But no wind answered.

Her heart skipped a beat, then another. Her steps faltered. She summoned it again. Nothing.

Her power was gone.

Everything inside her drained away, leaving her dizzy. Her numb hands dropped to her sides. This couldn’t be happening.

Time clicked back in. The horse reared dangerously close to Rafe. As she watched, Rafe rolled, then reached up and gripped the stallion’s legs. Flames flickered on his hands, and a searing flash of red light blasted out.

Blinded, Livia brushed at her stinging eyes. She thought she heard the distant symphony of voices raised in chant. Her vision cleared and she saw the black horse standing there, docile and dazed, tears streaming from his red eyes. She knew he wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

She sprinted to Rafe. He lay motionless on the ground, his eyes closed. His lips were blue.

“No.” Frantic, she pressed two fingers to his throat and a palm to his chest. A fluttering pulse tickled her fingers, but his chest was still.

He wasn’t breathing.

The stallion stamped a hoof. For a second, she tore her gaze away from Rafe’s bloodstained face. The wind-infected horse was coming out of the daze.

But what stood behind him made her lungs freeze.

Behind the stallion were three other massive beasts—a bay roan, a gray and a white stallion.

Her focus narrowed. She had to decide. Did she do her duty as Keeper, even without her powers, and try to stop the Tempest Winds from escaping?

Or did she save the man she loved?

Without another glance at the winds, she leaned down and pressed her lips to Rafe’s.

She forced air into his lungs. She did it again, praying, begging for him to breathe on his own.

“Breathe, Rafe.” She clutched his face in her hands. “Breathe, damn you.”

For three hundred years she’d commanded the wind, spawned storms and controlled hurricanes. She’d lived and breathed that power. But now, she felt powerless to save Rafe.

He needed air and she’d been the master of it, yet all she could do was force the tiniest breath into his lungs.

“Please,” she whispered.

When he coughed, dizziness overwhelmed her. She pressed her hands against his chest, felt it rise and fall.

The sound of clapping had her head jerking up.

The stallions were gone. Four well-built men stood in front of the stables, lit by the morning sun. The one clapping had a tough face and a dark beard. The two men flanking him were tall and lean, one with a fall of silver-blond hair brushing his shoulders, the other with a shaved head.

“A great show, Keeper,” the bearded man said with a final clap. “Nothing like watching a Keeper forsake her duty.”

Rafe sat up and when he saw the men, stilled. “The Tempest Winds?”

She nodded, failure a heavy load on her shoulders. Aeolus had trusted her and she’d failed. With an arm around Rafe’s back, she helped him to his feet. He pulled her tightly against his side, angling his body between her and the men.

“The emotion on your face is incredible, Keeper. The shock, the anger, the fear.”

Livia stared at the bearded Caecius, the Northeast wind, and leader of the Tempest Winds. He was also the holder of anger, renowned for his vicious temper.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” The final man spoke from where he leaned against the wall, a smile flirting with his lips. He was striking, looked as if he’d stepped out of a painting by some Italian master. His gaze raked over Rafe. “He’s quite a specimen.”

She ignored Corus, holder of lust and the Northwest wind. She couldn’t believe, after centuries, the Tempest Winds were free.

And there was nothing she could do to stop them. She stared at her hands. God help them all.

Caecius looked out into the brightening morning, an eager smile on his face. “I regret we must be leaving now.”

“Livia?” Rafe stepped forward, his dark gaze moving over the men. “Why aren’t you calling the wind?”

She swallowed and forced her head up. “I can’t.”

Rafe’s stormy gaze met hers. “What?”

She couldn’t find the words to tell him. When he’d healed her, it had removed her reason for becoming the Keeper. And, in turn, it had taken away her powers.

Caecius filled the silence. “Her powers are gone.”

Rafe glanced at the Tempest Wind, then back at her. “He’s lying.”

“No,” she said quietly. “When you healed me, it took away my powers.” A wealth of emotion churned inside her. Fear and failure, but also the newer feelings of hope and excitement.

“I never meant for this to happen.” Rafe moved closer. “Let me help. How do we stop the winds?”

“We don’t.” Strangely, she didn’t regret what she’d lost. Not when she knew what she’d gained with Rafe. She turned back to the Tempest Winds. The Venti brothers will come after you. You will not get far.”

One of the men beside Caecius laughed. His too-pretty face and long mane of hair told her he was Africus, holder of pride and the Southwest wind. “The WindKeepers do not scare us. We have had many years to contemplate how to defeat our rivals. We know their weaknesses.”

Livia bit down on the inside of her mouth and tasted the rusty tang of blood. The Venti brothers were powerful and would hunt down the winds. But she knew that now the Venti Tempesta were free, the four brothers would be susceptible to the dark vices the wind carried.

The Tempest Winds embraced the vices, the WindKeepers rejected them, but it would be a difficult battle.

Rafe gripped her arm. “We have to stop them.”

The so far silent man with the shaved head stepped forward—Apeliotus, keeper of greed and the Southeast wind. “Let us leave this place.”

With a wave of his hand, Caecius pointed in the direction of the Italian mainland. “Farewell, Keeper.” His dark eyes narrowed to slits. “After the Venti are dead, we will return. I’ve a hefty score to settle with you.”

Heart contracting, Livia watched the men’s human forms disintegrate into dark winds. They streamed into the early-morning light, like a cloud of dark insects.

Rafe swung her around to face him. “We’ll go after them. We’ll hunt them down.”

She studied his fierce face. “I can’t. I am their warden, not their hunter.”

“We can’t let them get away!”

She shook her head. “That job is for the Venti brothers.”

“Then we have to warn them.”

Her gaze moved to the horizon. “They already know.”

Silence fell between them. She sensed the tension building in him. Then he tugged her up on her toes until her nose brushed his.

“I’m not leaving. I can’t find the strength to leave you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t make me live without you.”

For an answer, she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.

After a moment he raised his head. “I love you, Livia. I know you don’t believe me yet, but I’ll prove it to you. For as long as we have.”

She pressed her hand against his bare chest, careful to avoid the ugly bruise forming. Inside her, happiness washed away much of the shock from realizing her powers were gone and the Tempest Winds were free.

“Ti amo, Rafe. I love you, too. You’ve shown me how to love.”

“That’s it? No argument about your being immortal and I’m not?”

A ghost of a smile tilted her lips. “I’m not immortal anymore.”

His brow creased. “What?”

“My immortality was tied to my powers” She forced air into her lungs, still unable to believe what his powers had wrought. She breathed out. “When you healed me, it took away the pain. Took away what made me the right person to be the Keeper

She pressed her hand to his cheek and she knew he had to feel the warmth of her skin. She was human again, full of the feeling she’d avoided for a lifetime. And it felt amazing.

“You gave me back my humanity. After I nominate a new Keeper, that person will take over the duty of the winds. As soon as the Venti brothers capture them.” She tried not to worry. To trap the winds, they would need to summon a storm the proportions of which the world hadn’t seen for hundreds of years. She could only hope the WindKeepers were strong enough for the coming battle.

Rafe hugged her tight. “I’m not letting you go. So don’t get any ideas about giving up your humanity again.”

He didn’t have to worry. She wanted a lifetime with the man she loved. A lifetime of reveling in the emotion he generated inside her. With Rafe by her side, she knew they were strong enough for whatever evil the Tempest Winds unleashed.

A light breeze stirred, brushed over her face like a caress, touched her lips like a kiss. Like a gentle goodbye. She closed her eyes, her hand clutching Rafe’s as the wind danced through her hair.

Now the wind no longer cooled her or swept away her emotions. Now all she felt was the warmth of the love she had for the man beside her.

Read about Dante Venti’s mission to recapture the Tempest Winds—and his encounter with a sexy assassin—in Taken by the South Wind by Anna Hackett, available October 2009 from Silhouette Nocturne Bites.

If you liked this story, be sure to check out SAVAGE DRAGON by Anna Hackett, on sale now from Silhouette Nocturne Bites.

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ISBN: 978-1-4268-3987-0

Wind Kissed, Fire Bound

Copyright © 2009 by Anna Hackett

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