She gave him a tremulous smile and her eyes closed again. He glanced at Teresa, who was watching them. It seemed to him that the girl gave a small nod of approval. He gathered Emma more closely and set off. The dog seemed to understand that Emma was safe and resumed his scouting position ahead of the small group, with Teresa bringing up the rear. Marco strode as fast as he could without jarring the precious burden in his arms.
He took her into a shepherd’s hut with a broken roof and crumbling walls and laid her gently in the deep shadows on the earthen floor. It was not far from the spot they had selected for the ambush, but he was so full of confidence he had no fear for her. Failure was impossible now that Emma had returned. Teresa followed them inside with the discarded clothing from the pool and between them, under the faint light of the stars that shone through the gaps in the grass roof, they cleared wooden debris from the floor and made a makeshift bed for Emma to lie on. Mickey lay down beside her, his head on his paws, only his eyes alert and moving.
Marco told Teresa to find her way to the rest of his men. “Tell Pietro to send for Giovanni,” he said. “I will be there shortly to talk to him.”
Teresa nodded and slid silently from the hut. He remained standing, looking down at Emma. His night vision had always been good, and he could see clearly the pale oval of her face and the whiteness of her hands. The weight of her in his arms had produced exactly the same reaction as the first time he had carried her across Enrico’s farmyard. He found it strangely difficult to take a deep breath, and all his blood seemed to have drained to his heated groin. His fingers itched to tear the clothing and covers off her, expose her legs, her breasts-
“Did she take the gun?” Emma murmured.
He swallowed hard and bent to smooth her hair back from her face. His cock jumped in response to the contact with her skin, and he forced himself to speak calmly. “Yes, but don’t worry. I have another.” He pulled a pistol from his belt and laid it aside.
Emma gazed at him through half-closed eyes and placed her hand on his sleeve. “Armed to the teeth,” she said. “I had Giovanni’s rifle, but I lost it. It’s good to feel safe. And we have Mickey to look after us.”
Marco glanced at the dog. “As long as he knows who the enemy is. I don’t want him attacking me.”
“Why would he do that?”
He didn’t answer, and she pulled herself to a sitting position, using the wall as a support. He caught a glimpse of bare flesh as the movement opened her tunic at her throat. He had a flash memory of first seeing her tied in the stable, the torn material of her shift revealing the sweet curve of her naked breast.
“You aren’t my enemy, Marco.”
“No. Far from it.” He tucked a covering sheet around her, glad of the opportunity to do anything that gave him an excuse to put his hands on her. “In fact, what I want to do this very instant is to mount an attack on your body, to push you down on the floor and feel you under me. I want to hold you close and fuck you hard and fast.”
She caught his hand in hers and kissed his fingers. “No.” His heart missed a beat and he saw the gleam of her teeth as she smiled in the darkness. “Hard and fast is good, but I’d like it long and slow. Do we have the time?”
“We have the time.”
She placed his hand on her breast. He could feel the racing of her heart under his fingertips. “You believe me?” she said. “About Giovanni?”
“I believe you. For a short while I was mad with rage at the thought of you and he… Forgive me, bella donna. In my heart I knew that you wouldn’t betray me.”
She let out a long breath, then frowned. “Do you believe you’re in danger?”
“I mean to find out. But I have time.”
She stroked the back of his hand, sending unbearable sparks along his nerves to his groin. Her nipple hardened under his fingers, and he felt the tremble through her body. He put his free hand behind her head and gently drew her toward him, fitting his lips against hers. She groaned against his mouth, but she didn’t move away, and he gave in to the urge that had been building hard and fast for the past hours…
He had never known a kiss like hers, so trusting and yet so intensely arousing. Her lips were incredibly soft, and they opened for him at once, inviting him in, releasing a dam of emotion within him. He was desperate to invade her, possess her, claim her as his alone.
The dog growled and stood as he held her tighter. She released his mouth and waved a hand at the animal.
“Quiet, Mickey,” she said sternly and pushed his furry head with her free hand. “There’s nothing to worry about. Down.”
The dog obeyed her and retreated to a corner. She turned her face back to Marco and kissed him, but he broke away from her and tore the clothes from his body in feverish haste. Naked, he put his hands on hers and stopped her removing her own garments. His eyes on her face, he loosened her thin tunic and pushed it from her shoulders. She sat forward a little to allow him to undress her and then remained perfectly still, only a quiver betraying the effect of his hands on her. He loved to watch her mouth grow lax and soft, her lips swollen and bruised-looking as her arousal grew. Although the darkness hid so much, he allowed himself to imagine the mist of desire clouding her bewitching eyes, the color rising in her cheeks. Soon he would make love to her in sunlight and watch every fleeting expression as he made her experience a pleasure she had never known before.
He slipped the tunic down further. Slowly. His nerves screamed at him to hurry, to tear the garment from her, but he wanted to savor every moment, every inch of newly exposed skin. She freed her arms, but the fabric caught on the hard peaks of her breasts. She waited. He sat back on his heels, entranced by the way the fabric hid the beautiful mounds, yet hinted so clearly at their shape. His fingers curved instinctively as if already feeling their roundness, their weight. He met her gaze, seeing the shallow rise and fall of her breath as she grew ready for him. The shiver that rippled through him had nothing to do with the mountain air. It had everything to do with the longing in his flesh, his heart, his very soul.
Perhaps it was foolish to want a woman so much, yet want her he did. She took a long, deep breath, the movement freeing one taut nipple. He licked his lips and promised the throbbing in his loins there would soon be release. Her breath caught as he reached forward to free her other nipple from the clinging fabric.
His hand lingered, his fingers brushing her lightly, like a blind man learning about a precious object by touch alone. His thumb caressed her breast. She leaned forward from the waist to kiss him again. Her mouth was an oasis of freshness and delight in a thirsty land. He cupped both her breasts and molded them in his palms, intoxicated by the smoothness of her skin, by the valley where they rose from her ribs, by the slope from her throat.
At last she pulled back. “Wait,” she whispered.
In a few seconds he saw the glimmer of her naked limbs as she slid the rest of her clothing from her and moved lower to lie beside him. She stretched a hand to his waist. “Come,” she whispered. “Come to me.”
He wanted to touch every part of her, taste her.
He rose to his knees and swung around, across her shoulders. He rested on his palms and felt her hands cradle his balls, while he suckled her breasts. He drew each nipple in turn into his hungry mouth, circling it with his tongue, driven by her cries and moans.
He moved back, letting his engorged cock brush her mouth. Immediately her tongue licked him, trailing fire along the length of him from the weeping tip to the root. He threw his head back and groaned in ecstasy. Her fingers scraped across the hot skin of his belly, and skimmed his ribs to play with the pebbles of his hard nipples.
He lowered his head and saw her legs spread wide, the dark triangle hiding the creamy softness of her cunt.