Wind Kissed, Fire Bound Read online

  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 vi
olent 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 ur
ge, 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.”