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Italian Rhapsody

By: kevklein



American-born Italian, Roxanne Serbati, closed the songbook and placed it in the holder on the back of the wooden pew.

The congregation ended the last stanza of "What A Friend We Have In Jesus," an old hymn that had been her favorite since childhood.

Please, dear God, she prayed silently, send me a man capable of helping me bring back my nephew. Send me a strong, powerful guardian angel. And please, please, keep him safe until we can get there.

She hadn't been born yet when her parents had immigrated from Sicily to Tampa, Florida, after the Mafia assassinated the Christian Democratic Sicilian regional president, Piersanti Mattarella, of the Christian Democratic Party. He had been a traditional politician who had decided to lead a campaign against corruption in Sicily in 1980.

When echoes of amen followed Pastor Serbati's petition to the Almighty, Roxanne opened her eyes, picked up her coat and purse and slipped out of the pew. Before she reached the church door, her mother caught her by the arm.

"Where are you going, sweetie?" Short and plump, forty-eight-year-old Isabella Serbati blocked her daughter's exit.

"Your father and I want to talk to you, Roxie."

"Mama, you and papa have already said what needed to be said. There's nothing left to discuss," Roxanne told her mother. "I have to go home. I'm expecting Mr. Fox this evening."

Isabella clung to her daughter's arm while she smiled and nodded to members of the congregation as they passed by on their way out of the church.

"Mr. Fox? Is that the man from Columbia?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Isn't there anything your father and I can say to change your mind?" Isabella removed her hand from her daughter's arm.

Bowing her head, Roxanne avoided direct eye contact with her mother. They'd had this conversation before, more than once, and it always ended the same. She understood the fear her mother and father had because of her decision to go to Sicily with a stranger, but she respected their concern for her safety. But she knew what she had to do; what her heart and soul demanded of her.

The man towered over her five-foot-two inch frame by a good twelve inches. He was big. Not only that, he was tall, dark and deadly-looking, with piercing ebony eyes and long, silky black hair secured in a ponytail. Dressed mostly in buckskin; jacket, cotton shirt and pants, he blended into the night like a prince of darkness.

Roxanne shuddered at the thought. Whoever or whatever this man was, he was danger personified. She sensed the aura of unholy power that surrounded him.

"Are you Roxanne Serbati?" he asked, his dark face a somber mask as he gazed directly into her eyes.

"Yes, I am," she replied, transfixed by his mesmerizing stare. "You...you aren't Daniel Fox, are you?"

He smiled, a wickedly charming smile, and Roxanne immediately sensed that this devilishly handsome stranger was dangerous on more than one level, in more than one way. Everything feminine within her responded to all that was masculine in him, and she cursed herself for being so susceptible to pure sexual attraction. He surveyed her from head to toe and chuckled. "You're not my idea of an old maid missionary turned schoolteacher."

She blushed, somehow knowing that his comment was a compliment. Even though she'd often been told; by her parents, her late brother, her friends, that she was beautiful, she was unaccustomed to compliments from strange men.

She was a beautiful, but very voluptuous, full-figured women with perfect facial features and long, raven black hair. In her simple black skirt and white sweater, she looked as neat as her apartment. She was too plump for his taste, but there was something about her; an ultra-femininity, that unwittingly drew him to her. He couldn't help but wonder just how sweet and innocent she really was.

"I'm afraid you don't understand." Roxanne stood and looked down at Fox.

Their gazes met and held.

"I'm going to Sicily. If you don't want to accept the assignment as my guide and bodyguard, then I'll find someone who will."

"Damn it, lady, are you crazy?" He shot up out of the recliner.

"There's no need for you to curse, Mr. Fox. Whether or not I go, isn't your decision. It's mine. And I am going. With you...or with another bodyguard."

No need for him to curse? Was she kidding? If she called saying "Damn it" cursing, then heaven help her if she ever heard him really let loose with the full extent of his vocabulary. If she went with him to Sicily, he would have to put up with her naive, innocent sensibilities.

"Look, lady, nobody tells me how to talk."

"Not even your employer?"

"Nobody."

"Then perhaps we've both made a mistake," she said. "I would expect my employee to follow my orders."

She trembled beneath Fox's big hands. He looked into her green eyes and wondered if Roxanne Serbati was frightened or aroused. Or both? As she breathed deeply, in and out, her large, full breasts rose and fell, their voluptuousness were pure temptation. It took all his willpower not to grab those lovely mounds, take them out of their confinement, and caress them, licking and sucking at the nipples he knew would be dark brown, erect, and small.

Roxie stared him directly in the eye, calling on every ounce of her willpower not to show him any weakness. His nearness both aroused and frightened her. He was big, dark, and dangerous. He was gloriously, intriguingly male. And suddenly she knew that he was the one man on earth capable of helping her rescue her nephew from his Mafia grandfather. Daniel Fox was the powerful guardian angel whom she'd prayed to God for. She just hadn't expected her bodyguard to be a fallen angel; a dark and deadly man whom neither she nor anyone else could control.

"Will you take the assignment, Mr. Fox?" she asked.

"You're damn stubborn and determined to go, aren't you?" He felt a twinge of satisfaction when she winced at his use of the word damn.

"Yes. And I want you to take me."

The air sizzled between them. He ran his hands up and down her arms, then released her. A closed-mouth smile spread across Daniel's face. "All right, lady. I'll take you. On three conditions."

"What three conditions," she asked warily.

"One is that you follow my orders, without question. After all, you're paying me for my expertise."

Roxie bit down on her bottom lip. "All right. I agree to follow your orders, but only if I can go with you."

"Without question?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "Without question."

"And the second condition is that you allow me to put you through two months of physical training, to get you in shape for our mission."

"What?"

"Lady, you're not trained for this kind of endeavor. Besides being totally inexperienced, you're soft and plump. In the shape you're in, you couldn't hold out for very long. You'd wind up putting both our lives in danger."

She glared at him, wanting to believe that he'd just insulted her. He had all but called her fat! "I may not be skinny, or even slim with a lot of toned muscles, but I'm hardly out of shape just because I'm plump."

"I wasn't trying to be insulting," he said. "I'm just being honest. You're in no condition for the rigorous mission we'll be undertaking. Either you agree to a two months of training or we don't have a deal."

"Oh, all right. I'll do it."

"And thirdly, you'll have to pose...as my wife."

He was a devil. She'd known it the minute she saw him. He thought she would back down, refuse his three conditions and allow him to go to Sicily alone. Well, he'd better think again.

"I'll agree to six weeks of training."

"You need at least eight weeks."

"We don't have two months to waste." She walked across the room, lifted his animal-skin jacket from the hall tree and held it out to him. "Six weeks of training and then we go to Sicily."

Following Roxie to the front door, he reached out and took his jacket from her. When their fingers brushed in the exchange, she jerked away from him as if his touch had burned her. He knew he was making the biggest mistake of his life, but he couldn't let this woman get herself killed. He owed it to Pierfrancesco Serbati to protect his sister, if at all possible. He blamed himself for her brother's death at the hands of his grandfather. And he owed it to himself to pay penance for his sins. Maybe, in the process, he would find out whether he still had a soul or if he had lost it; more than a year ago, in Palermo, Sicily.

"All right, Ms. Serbati. Six weeks of training and I'll take you with me."

"Call me Roxie." She smiled. "I'll be ready to leave first thing in the morning, right after I say goodbye to my parents."

"I'll pick you up around nine." He opened the door and stepped outside, then paused and turned around to face her. "Pack light. We'll be taking my motorcycle."

When her eyes rounded into big green circles and her mouth parted into a soft, pink oval, Fox reached out and gripped her chin. "Get ready for six weeks of hell."

She glared at him. "What else would I expect since I'll be spending those six weeks with you?"

Roxie decided then and there that she was willing to do anything; absolutely anything, to save Carlo Sebati. Even spend six weeks in hell with a fallen angel, and if necessary, even give her body. She just prayed that it wouldn't come to that.

Daniel stored his motorcycle at a rented storage place in Columbia, South Carolina, and they were taking his boat up the Congaree River to his place, twenty miles southeast of Columbia, in the Congaree Swamp. The swamp was the largest area in virgin Southern bottomland hardwoods remaining in the United States. Flooding occurred about ten times a year but only lasted from several days to a month at a time, and for most of the year the area was dry. There were loblolly pine, sweet gum, water tupelo, bald cypress, hickory, and oak, some of record size. There were also rare and endangered species of both plants and animals, such as the red-cockaded woodpecker, deer, opossums, foxes, wild boars, and bobcats.

He told Roxie that was where she was to spend the next six weeks getting in shape. "It's the perfect place for you to train during the next six weeks." He sat beside her in the speedboat, the strong late-summer wind whipping around him, loosening stray tendrils of his long, black hair.

Roxie sighed, a sense of anxiousness spreading through her. She didn't like the idea of being all alone with Daniel Fox in a swamp for one day, never mind six weeks. At least now she knew that if she needed a reprieve from hell, she would have someone other than the devil himself to ask for a pardon.

"I have a gym, with a complete workout room in the house and a scaled-down obstacle course on the back side of the island," Daniel said.

When Roxie eyed him questionably, he grinned; a devilishly seductive grin that had no doubt lured many a woman to sin. I like to keep in shape," he explained. "I also have a pool where you can practice your swimming before we try the river."

"You've already figured out all the details of my torture, haven't you?"

"Ms. Serbati, you have no idea what torture is. Not yet."

"Since we're going to be living together as master and slave for the next month and a half, why don't you call me Roxie?"

"Roxie, huh?" He chuckled. "Not Roxanne?"

"Pierfrancesco had a difficult time pronouncing my name when he was little. He shortened Roxanne to Roxa, and somehow it wound up Roxie."

"Cute little story," Daniel said cynically. "Sounds like you had an idyllic childhood with Mommy and Daddy and little brother."

He hadn't meant to sound so sarcastic. But when people reminisced about their families, he had a tendency to close down and stop listening.

"Sorry if my cute little story bored you."

"Let's just say that childhood memories aren't high on my list of favorite topics."

This was the man with whom she was going to willingly spend the next six weeks with. He was disagreeable, unfriendly, and hateful, not to mention cynical.

Roxie had never dreaded anything as much as she dreaded having to take orders from Daniel. It wasn't that she was more willful than the average woman; it was just that she'd always hated taking orders. The only orders she was really willing to follow, were God's. That specific aspect of her personality had been a trial to her parents and occasionally an embarrassment. But despite her dislike to following orders, she was willing to obey his commands. She was willing to do anything in order to rescue Carlo, even allow Daniel to torment her for the next six weeks, and pose as his wife for the duration of the trip to Sicily.

She still couldn't believe that she'd ridden with him on his motorcycle all the way from Tampa to Columbia. Her plump, rounded backside was sore, her face chapped by the wind and her disposition less than agreeable.

They had ridden into Savannah, Georgia, late last night. Before leaving Tampa that afternoon, they'd gotten a late start because he had insisted on her obtaining an okay from her personal physician before he started her on any type of physical-fitness regime. Once in Savannah, Daniel had checked them into separate rooms at a local motel.

Roxie knew that he thought he would break her during the forty-plus days of physical training in the swamp. He was counting on her giving up, returning to Tampa and allowing him to go on to Sicily alone. Well, he didn't know her. Although her idea of rigorous exercise was taking a brisk walk, she was prepared to suffer through whatever torturous exercises he devised.

Daniel watched the woman sitting at his side as they rode out into the waters of the Congaree Swamp, about half hour away from Columbia and toward the small secluded place he called home. Roxie was already showing signs of discomfort at having to follow his instructions. But he had to hand it to her; so far, she hadn't mouthed one complaint or questioned one order he'd given. He knew she'd hated making the long trip from Tampa on his motorcycle. She didn't exactly seem either the athletic or outdoors type to him; not with her round, plump body and her olive, flawless skin.

He could have rented a car for their trip, but he'd made a split-second decision to use his bike. Using the bike as their means of transportation had been the first of many tests he would put Roxie through over the next month or so...or less. He doubted she would last the entire six weeks. He'd gave her a week... ten days at the most, before she called it quits and accepted defeat.

They'd made a bargain, one he knew she would keep. If she couldn't make it through six weeks of training, then she would let him go to Sicily alone. But if she survived his six weeks of "boot camp," he would take her with him.

He didn't doubt for a minute that he would be making the trip alone. She just wasn't tough enough for this dangerous mission into a mountainous country with numerous mafia gangs. Few women would be tough enough. He could think of only one he would even consider taking along; Alexandra Largo, a fellow bodyguard, and occasional lover. But then, Alex was no ordinary woman. She was hard as nails and as tough as any man he knew. She was also a wildcat in bed.

Roxanne was soft, sweet, and completely unprepared for the physical rigors of the mission. And to make matters worse, she was emotionally involved. In his experience, people in general, women in particular, didn't always act rationally when they were personally involved in a dangerous situation.

"Here we are, Roxie," Daniel told her.

He lifted their small canvas bags onto the pier, then helped Roxie out of the boat. The minute they were ashore, they headed to the house.

"After I whip you into better shape, I'll let you try climbing that wall that I put up without using these steps," he told her. 

"It'll be good practice, just in case we have to go ashore close to the cliffs in Italy."

Roxie groaned inwardly, but didn't respond to his taunt. They had just arrived at the swamp and already he was trying to scare her away. When she stood there glaring at him, the sunlight turning her long, windblown hair to shiny black, Daniel grinned. "Come on, belladonna, you're safe for today. We won't start training until the morning. Today, you'll accept my hospitality."

Roxie turned abruptly and quickly followed Daniel up the steps. A pink flush spread over her neck and highlighted her cheeks. What had prompted Daniel to call her fair lady, and in Italian? The word was an endearment. He knew that she spoke Italian, didn't he? Of course he knew.

Roxie had known the first moment she saw Daniel Fox that he was a dangerous man, but now she realized that possibly the most lethal thing about him was his deadly sex appeal. Most women probably fell into his arms after one exposure to his wicked smile. She didn't have to look behind her to know that he followed her up the steps. She felt his nearness. When she hesitated at the top of the steps, he came up behind her, so close that she felt the warmth of his breath.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He gripped her shoulder.

Willing herself not to respond to his touch, Roxie held the shivers inside as she looked out over the expanse of green grass in front of them. Huge live oaks, heavily laden with Spanish moss, mingled with the cypress and hickory.

As a general rule, Roxie was a strong believer in the supernatural, that there was a loving God in heaven with his host of angels. She'd always had an open mind, and as a spiritual person, she did believe in the power of miracles. She also strongly believed that there was a Devil who had rebelled against God, and that a third of the angles fell with him when they'd pitied him.

There's innocent and then there's innocent. Was he thinking Ms. Serbati; who was what, twenty-nine, thirty?...doesn't know anything about the real world? He didn't want to think that the woman was that naive."

"All right," he said aloud. "So maybe she's not totally naive, but she's a damn do-gooder." But she was a missionary. Her brother had been a minister before he and his beautiful wife were killed by the Mafia. Her old man was a minister. "She may not be naive, but she's...Well, she's...innocent?" He didn't want to say the word. "She's sweet. Very sweet. She corrects me every time I use a curse word."

Roxanne Serbati was a spinster, a virgin, and he was going to be stuck alone here with her in this swamp for six weeks and possibly longer, if she went to Sicily with him. He'd never spent that much time with a woman without having sex with her, and he knew that she wasn't going to let him into her bed.

"You're crazy!" he said aloud. "I don't want her. I wouldn't take her virginity if she begged me to take it."

He was protesting a little too vehemently. Hell! The woman wasn't his type. She's too plump, soft, and sweet. And she's too inexperienced. He like them tall, lean, and mean. Whenever he took a woman to bed, he'd expect her to know what the hell she was doing.

Just before supper, Daniel glanced at the petite woman standing across from him. The late-afternoon sun bathed her in a shimmering light, creating a transparent nimbus around her entire body. She looked radiant. Her black hair hung about her shoulders like a raven cloud and her lush, womanly body filled out to perfection the simple, light-blue cotton dress she wore.

Belladonna, he thought for the umpteenth time that day. Roxie was indeed a fair lady. Actually she was a lovely lady. He shook his head to dislodge such ridiculous notions. Thinking that there was something undeniably unique about a woman was what got a man in trouble. She wasn't the kind of woman he could take to his bed and then dismiss.

Clearing his throat loudly, Daniel looked away, out over the swamp. He didn't want to have sex with Roxie! he tried to tell himself. She was not his type. He tried not to notice the way she looked, all soft and feminine in her floor-length blue cotton gown, edged with lace. He tried to ignore the way she smelled, all sweet, fresh, and flowery. And he tried to pretend that he didn't find this plump little Italian a delectable temptation. But his body couldn't ignore the seduction of hers. He damned his own uncontrollable reaction when his sex hardened.


Italian Rhapsody Ch. 02



Tyrrhenian Sea

Off the coast of north-central Sicily

Daniel had hoped for clouds to cover the stars and blacken the night sky. Instead, the moonlight seemed unusually bright and the stars twinkled mockingly overhead when the captain of the fishing boat dropped anchor a few miles off the coast of Sicily, north of Cefalù. This was an insane mission, one that might easily end in death for him and Roxie. He'd been a fool to let his emotions get in the way of his logic. He should have insisted on leaving her behind. But he knew what coming to Cefalù to rescue her nephew meant to her. He understood all too well feelings of guilt and remorse, the gut-wrenching wish that he could go back in time and do that one thing over again.

He checked his watch. He'd told his men that they would come ashore around eleven o'clock, to secure the perimeter for him. If anyone could arrange for them a safe beach landing, and a hideaway near Cefalù for the night, they could. His guys were the smartest, toughest men that he had ever known. His old comrades were both ex-gangsters, one an ex-Russian Mafia gangster and one an Italian Mafia gangster, with a violent past and no future, living always for the present.

"This is the last chance to change your mind," Daniel told Roxie. "Once we're in the water, there's no turning back."

"I understand," she said.

"You're going with me?"

"Yes."

He hadn't doubted her answer, but he had needed to give her that one last chance to change her mind. He already had enough blood of innocents on his hands without adding Roxie's. He hadn't been able to save her brother and sister, but by God, he was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe, to protect her, no matter what the cost to himself. He motioned for the captain to have the rubber raft lowered to the sea. Grabbing Roxie's arm, he led her to the ladder hanging over the side of the cruiser.

"I'll go first," he said, then climbed down into the raft and steadied it with his weight.

Roxie took a deep breath, willing herself to be strong and in control. She joined Daniel in the raft and took her place in front of him. She thanked the good Lord that she wasn't prone to motion sickness. If she had been, this mission would have been impossible for her. She was as physically and mentally prepared for this mission as she would ever be. But emotionally, she teetered precariously on the precipice of hell. When she had planned for this rescue, she had expected to risk her life to save Carlo. What she hadn't counted on was risking the principles by which she had always lived. She'd never considered the possibility that her heart and her morals could be in danger. But Daniel Fox posed a threat to her; the consequences of succumbing to him were as devastating as any other danger she would face in Cefalù.

He rowed the raft farther and farther from the fishing vessel. One mile. Two. Roxie didn't look behind her when Daniel issued orders. Obeying his every command, she remained silent as she focused straight ahead on the looming mountain peaks of Sicily. In the distance she could see the volcanic peak of Mount Etna, a more than 10,000-foot peak about 60 miles to the southeast.

Cefalù lay at the foot of a 1,233-foot promontory along the Tyrrhenian Sea, east of Palermo. It originated as the ancient Cephalaedium, which was founded as an outpost of the Greek city of Himera and first appeared in history about 395 BC as an ally of the Carthaginian leader Himilco. Valued for its strategic position on the height of the promontory, the ancient town was in turn conquered by the Syracusan tyrants Dionysius I the Elder and Agathocles and by the Carthaginians, from whom the Romans seized it in 254 BC. A new town was founded at the foot of the promontory by the Norman king Roger II in 1131 AD, the year in which construction to Cefalù's famous cathedral had started.

On her last visit over two years ago, Roxie remembered her one trip to Cefalù to visit Pierfrancesco, when she'd arrived for her year of missionary work. She had taken a tour of the ancient town with him and her sister, visiting the ancient cathedral. It's exterior had been well preserved, with massive four-story towers on each side of the façade. The interior had been considerably restored in the 16th and 17th centuries. The Byzantine-style mosaics in the apse, the projecting part of the building, and in the first spaces between the arches of the choir, the part occupied by the singers or by the clergy, were among the most beautiful in Sicily. Among the ancient remains in the area was the so-called temple of Diana, a pre-Hellenic sanctuary of megalithic construction from the 9th and 8th century BC on the promontory site of the ancient Cefalù, and portions of a megalithic wall dating from the 6th century BC.

On their return to her brother's home later in the day, they had been caught in a late afternoon drenching from a rainstorm.

"Get ready." Daniel issued the command in a deep, dark whisper when they were less than a mile from shore. He drew in the paddles and waited. Moisture coated Roxie's palms. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She could just make out the shoreline in the moonlight.

A light flickered in the distance; a signal from Daniel's men that it was safe for them to come ashore. She waited for him to tell her when to dive into the water. The plan was for him to dispose of the raft and them to swim the last half-mile.

"Now," Daniel said.

Without question, Roxie slid over the side of the raft and into the cold water of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Gasping, she treaded water, waiting. Joining her quickly, Daniel eased up beside her. "Start swimming. Head right for the shore. No matter what, don't look back. Go directly to the beach. My men will be waiting."

"Daniel?"

"I'll be right behind you," he assured her.

She sliced through the dark water, pacing herself as Daniel had taught her during the weeks of fitness training and tutoring in survival techniques. She still couldn't believe that she had actually learned how to use a gun. She despised violence. She abhorred any and all kinds of weapons. But learning to handle a gun had been one of his requirements for bringing her along on this mission. She sensed him behind her, silently gliding his big body through the waves heading toward the shoreline. As she neared the shore, she saw that boulders edged a large section of the beach.

"We're going ashore on a small, isolated stretch of beach that's patrolled by your grandfather's men," Daniel told her. "One of my men said that there's usually only a lone soldier at this point, day or night."

He swam up beside Roxie as they neared land, guiding her away from the rocky shore, toward a smoother section where the heavy waves washed a sandy surface.

Side by side, they rose from the ocean and ran onto the beach. Rivulets of water dripped from their soaked bodies. Winded from the mile-long swim, Roxie dropped to her knees and gulped in huge swallows of recuperative air.

A cool breeze caused her to shiver.

Moonlight shimmered across the land, turning the towering cliffs flanked each side of the narrow beach, black.

Grasping Roxie under her armpits, Daniel swiftly lifted her to her feet. "You can't rest here." He draped his arm around her damp waist.

"Just for a minute," she pleaded.

"Not here!" he told her in a whispered growl.

He dragged her up the beach, and she tried to pull away from him.

"Will you stop manhandling me?" Defensively she added, "I couldn't see well enough to see where I'm going."

Daniel shoved her forward toward the thicket of trees that blanketed the land. The ground lifted upward directly behind the beach to form a knoll overlooking the sea.

Guiding Roxie, he rushed up the rise, toward the area from where he'd seen the all-clear signal. Once they were in the trees, he slowed their pace, then brought them to a standstill.

"Now what?" Roxie whispered.

"We wait."

Suddenly a rustling from the tangle of surrounding growth alerted Daniel and Roxie that they were not alone.

"Daniel Fox?" a heavily accented voice called out in the darkness.

"Giancarlo?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, sir." A muscular, dark-skinned man appeared before them, barely visible in the moonlight.

"Hurry, Daniel! You too, señora. Hurry! Hurry! Vladimir is waiting."

Giancarlo led them into the darkness of the mountainside, seemingly climbing forever upward, through the thick cover of trees and tangled greenery. Never getting out of Daniel's grasp, Roxie realized that someone, probably Giancarlo, had cut a path through the growth. She staggered along behind Daniel, her feet squishing inside her soaked socks and shoes. When she felt as if she couldn't climb another foot, they came to a clearing that opened onto a dirt road.

The moonlight flickered off the metal body of an old, battered jeep. Behind the wheel sat a mountain of a man, even bigger than Daniel, only his huge outline visible in the shadowy darkness. Giancarlo jumped into the front seat beside the driver, while Daniel assisted Roxie into the back seat, then got in beside her.

"You are crazy for coming back here," a heavily accented voice said from the front seat of the jeep. "And even bigger fool for bringing woman with you."

"We're in agreement on that," Daniel said.

The man, who Roxie assumed was Vladimir, laughed, the rumble from his chest like a roll of thunder. With the headlights off, the jeep lurched forward in the darkness. Roxie prayed that the driver could see the road better than she could.

"We'll drop you and lady off at small cabin for night, close to where you are to go in day or two," Vladimir said, his accent decidedly Russian. "There are blankets, fresh water and food waiting for you in cabin. Since Mafia all over Palermo and Cefalù, tourism not strong any more. You and lady be safe enough there overnight."

Hitting a huge pothole in the road, the jeep bounced, tumbling its passengers. Roxie cried out, and Daniel draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side.

"It's all right," he told her. "Despite what you think, Vladimir Trakirov will get us to safety in one piece."

"I'm beginning to wonder," she said. "How can he see where he's going without the headlights on?"

"The moon is pretty bright tonight. Besides, knowing Vlad, he's sniffing his way. Anyone who knows him thinks that he's part animal." He squeezed Roxie's shoulder and leaned closer, whispering in her ear. Vladimir used to be involved with the Russian Mafia. Just sit tight, close your eyes and relax."

Relax? Was he kidding? She couldn't relax, but she did close her eyes and pray. God only knew that someone needed to pray for Mr. Trakirov. Pray he wouldn't drive them into the ocean or off the road and plummet down a ravine. The dirt road turned into an even narrower one that eventually led to a small cabin.

The ancient town of Cefalù slept peacefully for the night. Only dim lights, hidden behind the shutters of homes in the distance, advised them that anyone was still awake.

Daniel helped Roxie out of the Jeep. Giancarlo tossed Daniel a canvas bag that he caught in midair.

"Go in." Vladimir shone a flashlight toward a wooden door. "Go straight to bedroom. There's kerosene lamp you can light. I placed it on floor, right beside bed. There are no windows in room, so light can't be seen from outside."

Roxie was glad that Vladimir held the flashlight beam on the door until she and Daniel had scurried inside. The resonant throbbing of the jeep's engine quickly disappeared as it left.

"I can't see a darn thing," Roxie whispered.

He shoved her behind him. "Hang on to my shirt."

She followed his slow, cautious movement into the pitch-black room. When he stopped abruptly, she rammed into his back, her breasts flattening against him for a brief instant.

He mumbled a curse as he felt the softness of womanly flesh against his back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You could have warned me."

When Daniel turned the knob, the door creaked loudly. Shoving it wide open, he extended his foot inward before taking the first step. With cautious precision, he led Roxie into the room. When they reached the bed, he halted.

"Stay right here. Don't move an inch until I light the lamp," he said.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere," she told him.

He grappled around in the darkness for several minutes until the toe of his boot encountered the lamp. Dropping the canvas bag to the floor, he rummaged inside until he found a box of matches. Bending down on one knee, he lifted the globe off the lamp, struck a match and lit the wick. A muted yellow-white glow illuminated the dreary bedroom. Glancing around, Daniel spotted a pile of blankets in the corner of the room. On top of the blankets lay an assortment of local fruit.

Roxie gasped. Daniel's gaze followed her line of vision. A large cockroach scurried across the wooden floor.

When he saw Roxie crinkle her nose and frown in disgust, he grinned, thinking that he would probably get to be very close to her this night.

"I thought I wanted to be out of the darkness." Roxie made her way toward him. "But now that I've seen this place, I'm not so sure I wouldn't prefer to be in the dark again."

"Come on. We need to get out of our wet clothes. We'll lay them out and hope they'll dry by morning." Daniel picked up the lamp and handed it to Roxie. When he lifted the partially open canvas bag from the floor, she glanced inside and saw two handguns.

"One for you and one for me?" she asked.

"You knew in advance that I'd expect you to carry a weapon. It would be suicidal for us to go into Cefalù tomorrow unarmed."

Roxie walked across the room, placed the lamp on a wooden table and glanced down at the pile of blankets. She picked up the oranges and bananas and laid them beside the lamp, then lifted one of the blankets. She frowned. The small blanket looked clean enough. She tossed the blanket to Daniel, who caught it up against his chest.

"You go outside the room to undress," she told him. "And don't come in until I tell you that it's all right."

He chuckled. "Lady, before this little adventure of ours is over, you and I are going to become so intimately familiar with each other's bodies that your show of modesty right now will seem ludicrous."

"Well, we will not get intimately familiar tonight, so go change clothes outside the room!"

Roxie crossed her arms over her chest and stamped her foot on the floor. He grinned wickedly, then turned and walked across the room and out the door. Undressing hurriedly, she removed her boots, soggy socks and damp khaki pants. After taking off her cotton shirt, she laid the articles of clothing out across a couple of wooden chairs. She hesitated before unhooking her wet bra, and when she tried to remove her moist panties, they stuck to her skin. But she peeled off the lacy underwear, then reached down, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her body. She doubled the blanket around her, overlapping the ends securely above her right breast. The hem of the makeshift garment hit her just below her knees. Due to the width of her hips, the blanket didn't quite double around her lower body, leaving a gap that revealed a glimpse of her right thigh. Despite the cotton cover, she felt naked and vulnerable. Spearing her fingers through the sides of her hair, then running her hand down the long braid that hung to her waist, she tested for dampness. Apparently the windy jeep ride had partially dried her hair, as it had most of her clothes.

"Aren't you ravaging in that outfit," Daniel said.

Gasping silently, Roxie jumped at the sound of his voice, then turned to face him. He stood a few feet away from her, halfway between the door and the bed. He had draped his blanket around his hips, leaving his chest bare. Trying to avoid looking directly into his face, she glanced downward and the sight of his muscular chest took her breath away. She swallowed hard.

"You look pretty cute yourself." She forced the playful words from her mouth. Taking inventory of Daniel proved to be a visual delight. His broad shoulders and big arms bulged with sleek, fine-toned muscles. His skin gleamed a pale copper in the lamplight. While she stared at him, he snapped the band that held his ponytail in place, then bent over and shook loose the vibrant black strands of his long hair. Roxie glanced away, unable to continue her perusal without melting into a pool of pure erotic lust. Warning herself once again about the dangers a man like Daniel presented to a woman like her, she busied herself by turning away and picking up the other blankets.

She stood with her back to him, setting the pillows on each side of the bed.

"Don't you want to eat before you make our bed?" he asked teasingly.

"What?" She whirled around, her mouth gaping, her eyes growing round.

"Aren't you hungry? Those oranges look delicious. If you'd like, I can peal one for you."

"You go ahead and eat," she said. "I'm really not very hungry. I'm just tired. I think I'll make my bed for the night."

"I'm sleeping beside you, and don't give me any arguments. It's cold here and it'll get even colder toward morning. We'll appreciate each other's body heat."

She glared at him, but didn't say a word as she prepared the bed.

Daniel knew she was deliberately ignoring him, pretending that she'd forgotten his threat to claim her body as part of their bargain. Of course, it was possible that she had actually believed him when he'd later told her that he wouldn't touch her if she was the last woman on earth. His guess was that she was uncertain about his intentions. He thought she deserved to worry about if and when he would take her. Her stubbornness and determination had put him in a position he didn't like. He had allowed his feelings to cloud his judgment; he'd brought a woman along on a deadly mission. In his peripheral vision, he saw her lie down and lift one side of the blanket up and over her. Let her lie there and squirm, he thought. Let her wonder if tonight is the night I'll ask for the use of her body.

Retrieving a knife from the canvas bag Vladimir had supplied for him, Daniel sliced one of the oranges and ate it with gusto. The juice ran down the corners of his mouth and dribbled over his chin.

"Sure you don't want some?" He held up the other half of the ripe fruit. When he was finished with the orange, he took a shaddock. A shaddock was something like a cross between an orange and a lemon, and shaped like a pear.

"No, thank you. In the morning I'll eat something." She turned over, facing away from him.

He finished off two oranges, a shaddock, then peeled a banana. Wiping his sticky hands on the blanket, he glanced around the small room. A safe little hideaway. Maybe the last one they would have until they left Sicily. He flung the knife blade into the tabletop. Morning would come too soon. He needed rest as much as Roxie did. There might be nights ahead of them without the comfort and safety of a hotel. When he stood over her, gazing down at her still form, Daniel removed the blanket from around his waist and dropped down on his knees behind her.

The moment he lifted her long, damp braid, she stiffened. "What are you doing?"

With nimble fingers, he began unbraiding her hair. "You shouldn't sleep with your wet hair braided."

"Oh." She lay perfectly still, her back to him, and allowed him to unbraid her hair. Was that all he intended to do? she wondered. If he tried to force himself on her, how would she react? She should have made it perfectly clear to him that she had no intention of having sex with him. To her, sex was not some bodily function for releasing tension and deriving physical pleasure. When she made love with a man, it would be because she was married to him, and she loved him with all her heart and soul.




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 02



When he was finished with the unbraiding, he thrust his big fingers through the raven strands, lifting her hair off her bare shoulders. He released the thick mass slowly, allowing it to fall through his fingers. In the soft lamplight her hair looked like shiny silken threads of raven.

His knuckles brushed her naked back. Roxie drew in her breath. He stretched out beside her, his body almost touching hers, then drew his blanket up and over them both. He nuzzled her neck. She moved away from him, toward the edge of the bed. He threw his arm over her waist and drew her back to him, spooning their bodies. His hardened sex pressed against her buttocks. When she trembled, Daniel smiled.

"Such a skittish little virgin," he whispered in her ear. "Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to have a man make love to you?"

Lying in his arms, her body shivering with fear and desire as he held her, she knew she had to be strong. Now was the time to set him straight, to let him know she was not his for the taking.

"I'm not going to have sex with you, Mr. Fox. I'll take orders from you without question, but I draw the line at giving you my virginity."

He slipped his hand inside the blanket wrapped around her body and covered one of her breasts. Her nipple hardened against his palm. She struggled to free herself. He squeezed her breast gently. She shivered. Then he removed his hand and turned over, facing the opposite direction.

"Go to sleep, Roxie. I won't ask you to give me your virginity, since you seem to prize it so highly. But..."

"But what?" Her voice quivered ever so slightly.

"If you ever decide you want me to make love to you, all you have to do is ask. And I'll make sure your first time is unforgettable."

His statement left her speechless. Her stomach flip-flopped nervously. Her nipples puckered and tightened, almost painfully. Her feminine core clenched and released, spreading a fierce tingling sensation through her lower body. She had no doubt that he could make sure her first time was unforgettable. But what Daniel didn't understand was that, despite her desire for an unforgettable first sexual experience, she wanted more; so much more. She wanted love and commitment and the hope of "forever after." She was a woman with a great deal to give the right man. She hadn't saved herself just to throw away her treasured virginity to a man to whom she meant nothing, except someone he could satisfy his lust with.

An hour or so later, Daniel woke up with a hard-on. A soft, female body lay draped across his. When he turned his head to see who the lady was, raven hair tickled his nose. Then suddenly he remembered where he was and with whom. The plump little virgin was all but lying on top of him. Her head cuddled on his chest. One arm rested across his belly. And the apex of her thighs pressed against his hip. He had never taken a woman who didn't want him, but he was sorely tempted at that precise moment. With the right kind of seduction, she would be begging him for it. All he had to do was... No! Heck, no! The last thing he needed was to have sex with Roxie and for her to decide that she was in love with him.

When she began to roll away from him, he pulled her up against him and kissed her. When he cupped her buttocks in his hands and pressed her intimately against him, she came awake instantly. But when he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, she melted, clinging to him. But she pulled away once the pleasure built too much. 

Easing his body away from hers, Daniel stood and stretched. He checked the clothes he'd hung on a hook last night and found them completely dry. Leaving the wrinkled garments, he headed for the small bathroom. Not wanting to leave Roxie alone in the dark, he didn't take the lamp. Feeling his way around in the dark cabin, he didn't find a toilet, but he did find something where you could answer nature's call, which was a room slightly bigger than a closet.

When he flung open the bathroom door, bright moonlight streamed through the window. He turned the faucets and breathed a sigh of relief when a thin stream of cold water trickled out and into the sink. Cupping his hands, he filled them and splashed the water on his face. He dried off and walked into the bedroom, totally naked, his long, damp hair hanging loosely down his back.

Daniel closed the door behind him, and crept silently over to the bed. The lantern's glowing illuminated the cozy room. When he glanced at Roxie, asleep in the bed, his breath caught in his throat. Her raven hair was spread out over the pillow like a puddle of oil. She had kicked aside the blanket, leaving it bunched at her waist. Her large, firm breasts were bare, their brown tips beckoning his fingers and mouth.

"Damn!" he mumbled.

Roxie sighed deeply and rolled over, turning her back to him, and in the process gave him a view of her backside. His body went fully alert, hardening and throbbing.

How the hell was he going to get through this night without taking her, when she was lying there all soft and tempting? He had never felt possessive about a woman. They came and went in his life, all of them temporary conveniences. He had never loved anyone. And no one had ever loved him. He had wanted, needed, and desired. And when he had desired a woman, he had taken her. But he had never loved. He reminded himself of all the reasons he couldn't have Roxie Serbati. She was a virgin. She would expect love and commitment. Becoming sexually involved with an emotional woman could jeopardize the mission. If he let himself care about her, he wouldn't be able to stay objective and do his best job. And if she ever found out about his involvement in her brother's and sister's deaths, she would hate him. Even though he didn't care about her, he didn't want her to hate him. 

Who are you kidding? You already care about her. Get over it, he told himself. She's just a woman like any other woman. Two arms. Two legs. A pretty face. Nice large breasts. And a... Don't go there! Don't think about making love to her all night long.

He eased back the sheet and slipped into the bed beside her. He felt the heat emanating from her body and smelled the sweet, tempting fragrance of her. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched her hair, then leaned over and buried his nose in the soft, damp mass. His sex grew harder and heavier, throbbing with need. He kissed her shoulder. Roxie stirred, turning toward him, slowly opening her eyes.

"Daniel!" she mumbled sleepily.

He rose up and over her, bracing himself on one elbow as he aligned the front of his body along the side of hers, straddling one of her legs so that his knee was close to her sex.

When she tried to get up, he gave her a gentle shove and covered her waist with his heavy arm, pinning her to the bed.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Roxie gave Daniel a smile of genuine warmth and appreciation. She realized too late that she was in a very vulnerable position.

"Roxie," he whispered.

"Don't, Daniel. Please, don't."

Sandwiching her arms between their bodies, she shoved against his chest. He grabbed her wrists and flung her arms up, flattening them on either side of her head. She struggled against his superior strength, her sex coming in contact with his knee. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she thrashed her head from side to side. But he captured her mouth with fierce pressure, taking her lips, forcing them apart. He rose up and over her. Only a portion of the blanket separated their lower bodies as he ground his knee against her.

Roxie wanted Daniel. Wanted him desperately. But not like this. Not with such reckless hunger. Not when he was intent on forcing her. She could so easily give herself to him. Her body longed for his. Her heart cried out for his love. But Daniel Fox did not love her. He wanted her, but only for tonight. Perhaps for the duration of their mission, but not forever.

She fought a battle with herself, her own desire raging against her. As he deepened and softened the kiss, she whimpered her surrender to a moment of physical gratification. Straddling her hips, he eased his lips from hers and licked a moist trail down her neck and across her collarbone. He opened his mouth and covered her nipple, suckling hungrily as she arched in pleasure.

Her body tightened and released, moistening in readiness, as ripples of pleasure spiraled from her breasts to her core.

Daniel jerked the blanket completely away from her, exposing her large, round breasts fully. He cupped them in his hands, lifting them, weighing them. Roxie shuddered from head to toe.

While he did those incredible things to her breasts, she moved her hips, rubbing herself on his leg, causing incredible sensations to course through her body.

"Tell me to stop, now." He scraped his palms across both nipples. She gasped. "Tell me that you don't want me."

"I...I can't," she cried breathlessly, feeling herself getting closer and closer to something unknown to her. "Oh, Daniel, I just can't." She stopped herself from moving against his leg like a dog in heat. She was so close. A few more strokes and she would have lost herself to the incredible feelings of sexual release.

Damn it! He hadn't even made love to her yet and already he was ready to explode. If he was right, by the time he'd enter her body, he would surely lose his control. Was he enough of a bastard to take this woman's virginity? Would she allow him to love her and then, when this mission was over, walk away and leave her? He would like to say yes, but he wasn't so sure. He had a piece of paper that said they were married, but it wasn't for life, only for as long as they were in Sicily. He nuzzled his nose between her breasts, wanting her as he'd never wanted anything in his life. Then he dismounted her body and fell flat on his back beside her.

She laid her hand on his bare chest. "Daniel?"

"If you won't let me make love to you, Roxie, don't touch me." He flung her hand off his body. "Turn away and go to sleep. And don't touch me again. If you touch me, so help me God, I'll take you here and now."

Without saying a word, Roxie turned over and drew up into a ball. He lay still; naked and painfully aroused. When he heard Roxie's muffled sobs, he turned over and covered his head with a pillow. Heaven help him, this woman was going to make him lose his mind! There was only one thing left to do; manual stimulation. A few strokes was all it took. Damn her! All because of her he was acting like a horny teenager. Ever since she'd come into his life, almost two months ago, he had to rely on satisfying himself by his own hand almost every damn day. Since there were no other women around, that was the way it had to be.

Daniel washed his hands and dressed hurriedly, then checked his watch. It was nearly six-forty-five. Vladimir would be here soon. Vlad used to be in a Siberian prison. In Russian prisons your life's story was written on your body in tattoos. If you didn't have tattoos, you didn't exist. He had quite a few tattoos; a star on each knee that meant he had never kneeled before anyone. Stars on his chest. He had two spiders. A spider ascending meant he was climbing in his life of crime, and a descending spider meant he was giving up his life of crime. A cross on his chest, meant 'I'm a thief, but in good standing'. Like the cross, he had other tattoos that seem to be religious, but were not. In the Russian Mafia, they meant something entirely different. Vor V Zakone: we are marked for life and our stories tell the truth. That was the saying with the Vor V Zakone.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found Roxie awake, sitting at the table and hungrily devouring a banana"Do you want to use the bathroom?" he asked.

Gulping down the last bite of fruit, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "A bathroom? That's wonderful. Where?"

"Don't get too excited. There's no shower or tub. Just a sink with cold water and a sort of...outhouse."

"An outhouse!" she exclaimed. "Well, beggars can't be choosers." Standing, she held the edges of the blanket securely around her body.

"Where is it?"

"Simple," he said with a smile. "It is where you can see sunshine through the window."

Grabbing up her clothes from the chairs, she smiled at Daniel. "Thanks. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You know what?" she said when she returned. "You are a good man, Daniel Fox." She laid her hand on his chest. "You're a very good man."

He stilled instantly; even his heart stopped beating for a split second. Roxie believed he was a good man. If she knew the truth, if she knew that he had been considered a member of the Mafia when her grandfather had executed Pierfrancesco and Mariana Serbati, she wouldn't think he was a good man. She'd know him for what he was. He flung her hand off his chest and turned his back to her. "I'm not a good man. I'm a bad man."

A denial lodged in her throat. No, you aren't a bad man, she wanted to tell him. You just pretend you are. But she remained silent. Then she wondered, Is he a man tormented by demons? Is he plagued by a past he cannot undo? Is there true goodness in him? A goodness that can cleanse his soul? What memories tormented him? What was so terrible about his past that it plagued him? Did she truly possess the power to cleanse Daniel's soul?

Roxanne Serbati was a real woman in all her glory. Daniel's body responded as it always did when he allowed his mind to dwell on thoughts of a certain plump, virginal, pastor's daughter.

Late the following day, Daniel and Roxie were near a waterfall. Vladimir had also hidden a small jeep in the thick vegetation. "I'll spread out the sleeping bag in the back of the jeep," he said. "You get us some fresh water and open a couple of those delicious dinners and fruit that Vlad packed for us."

Placing her hands on her hips, she looked at Daniel. "I think I'll make a meal of the fruit we have left."

They ate hurriedly, aware that daylight was fading fast. She shared the oranges and bananas with Daniel, but refused to even taste the meal that he seemed to enjoy."

"You want to bathe first?" he asked. "Or do you want to stand guard and let me go first?"

"Stand guard? Do you think that's necessary?"

"We're in a foreign country. And you never know when your grandfather's men might be prowling around." He grasped her wrist. "I don't think we have to worry about them, but there's always a chance that a few of them could be close by."

"I understand. I'll bathe as quickly as I can."

"Feel free to undress and take a real bath," he said. "I promise to keep my back to you and not peek."

"Can I trust you?" she asked half seriously.

"If you can't trust me, who can you trust?" When she stared at him with her green eyes, he held his breath for a split second, then swatted her on her beautiful behind and laughed. "Get a move on. I don't want to bathe in the dark." Daniel found himself a large, smooth rock to sit on. With his back to the pond, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked straight up at the sun. An hour, perhaps less, of daylight remained.

The water splashed when Roxie entered the pond. He envisioned her naked body. He listened to sounds of the evening in the jungle, a mixed chorus of birds and insects.

After hurriedly unbraiding her hair, she plunged deeper into the pond and swam across its narrow width. Finding a shallow spot near the opposite bank, she dipped into the cool, refreshing water and scrubbed her face and body with her hands. As the grime and perspiration washed away, her skin tingled from the brisk rubbing. Swimming back toward the bank, she looked up and saw Daniel's broad back. True to his word, he didn't turn around when she rose from the pond and stepped onto the grass. She slipped into her jeans and shirt, then picked up her bra, panties and socks and dunked them at the water's edge.

"You can turn around now," she called out over her shoulder as she wrung out her underwear.

Daniel walked over to her and handed her his gun. "Now it's your turn to guard the camp, while I take my bath."

"All right." She gazed up into his dark eyes, such a deep, pure brown that they appeared almost black. He was close; close enough for her to feel his breath.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. Her lips parted. He lowered his head, covered her mouth and slid his tongue inside. She melted in his arms, her limbs softening. She dropped her underwear to the ground.

While he ravaged her mouth, he speared his fingers through her long, wet hair and grasped her head. Holding it firmly, he urged her into the kiss, seeking a response. Rising on tiptoe, she twined her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts into his chest. Daniel groaned. She moved her tongue from side to side, encountering his tongue with her movements. He retreated, then flicked her lips with the tip of his tongue, encouraging her to respond. Timidly, she entered his mouth and slowly explored the interior. He sucked tenderly.

Roxie shivered. Involuntarily, she rubbed her lower body against his.

Breaking the kiss, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from him. They both breathed raggedly, as if they'd been running.

"I'd better take my bath now," he said. "Or I'll ravage that beautiful, curvaceous body of yours."

"Yes, you'd better." Her cheeks flushed with warmth and her body quivered with arousal.

"Keep your back turned." He grinned at her wickedly. "And don't let me catch you peeking or I'll have to punish you."

"It'll be difficult not to watch you strip, but I'll try to control myself." She laughed, wanting desperately to imitate his lighthearted banter. But if she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was curious about Daniel's body. Although she'd seen him in nothing more than brief swim trunks and felt his naked body hovering near her in the darkness, touching hers, she could only imagine how magnificent he was, completely unclothed. She reached down, picked up her wet undergarments and bundled them together. Forcing a smile to her lips, she nodded to him and walked past him.

He sat down on the bank, removed his shoes and socks and then looked across the clearing to where Roxie had taken her perch on the same rock where he'd kept watch. More than anything, he wanted to tear her damp clothes off her body and drag her into the pond with him. Would it be so wrong to make love to her? To take his pleasure in her soft, sweet body? After placing his rifle and holster on the bank, he removed his clothes and walked into the pond. He swam to the deepest part and dived beneath the water. The moment he sprang from the depths, he heard Roxie calling his name.

"Daniel! Daniel!"

Shaking nervously, her eyes round with fear, Roxie backed toward the pool. He trod water for a couple of seconds. Then he heard it. It was just an animal.

"Don't panic," he called out to her. "It's close by, but it's probably gone."

He rose from the pond, totally naked, water falling from his body in rivulets. He reached down to the ground and lifted his rifle, then slid his arm around her and drew her back up against his hard, wet body. She gasped.

"I want you to get behind me," he said.

She obeyed his command instantly, allowing him to shove her behind him. The dark shadows of twilight waved around them like eerie gray phantoms. The animal cried out. Roxie trembled. Daniel focused on the direction of the sound. To the right. On higher ground. But close. Very close.

"Is it a wild cat?" she whispered.

"Yeah, that would be my guess."

The leaves rustled. She gasped.

He lowered his arm and pointed the lightweight hunting rifle, a bolt-action Ruger 77 Hawkeye Ultralight, with a twenty inch barrel, at the ground.

Roxie let out the breath she'd been holding.




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 02



Momentarily oblivious to his nakedness, Roxie whirled around Daniel, grabbed his face and kissed him right on the mouth.

"Damn it, woman, I won't be able to sleep soundly tonight with you touching me like this."

She suddenly realized that he was stark naked. She glanced upward, trying to avoid taking an inventory of his physical assets.

He slung the rifle strap over his shoulder, reached down and picked up his clothes, boots and shoulder holster and shoved them into Roxie's arms.

"What..."

Before she could finish her sentence, he swooped her up in his arms and silenced her with a kiss. When he ended the kiss, she looked straight into his eyes. Dark, smoldering eyes. "Daniel, what...what are you doing?"

"I'm taking you back to the jeep." He carried her away from the pond and through the clearing he'd cut in the thicket.

"Couldn't you put on your clothes first?"

"I can do that later," he said.

When they reached the jeep, he eased the rifle down on the open sleeping bag, then lifted Roxie onto the tailgate.

"I feel very uncomfortable with you being undressed." She held out his clothes, boots and holster.

"I'll remedy that problem right now."

He accepted the items she offered him, then tossed his clothes into the jeep and laid the holster on the edge of the sleeping bag. Grasping her shirt, he undid the top button. She stared down at his hands, brown and rough against the smooth creaminess of her skin.

"What are...what are you...doing?"

"I'm going to make you more comfortable."

"But I didn't mean for you to... I wanted you to put on your clothes, not take mine off."

"Since I'm going to have to stay half-awake all night just in case our visitor returns, don't you think you owe me something for my trouble?"

He undid another button. She slapped at his hand. He undid a third and then a fourth button. Roxie tensed. He jerked the shirt loose from her jeans and spread it open to expose her large, naked breasts. Her breathing quickened. She made tiny gasping noises as she sucked in quick gulps of air.

Daniel let out a long, low sigh. "You don't know how much I've wanted to look at your breasts." He lifted them in his hands, weighing their fullness. "And how much I've wanted to touch them again."

His big hands encompassed her, kneading gently. His touch was hot, his palms sandpaper-coarse against her tender skin. She wanted to tell him to stop, that he shouldn't be touching her like this. But here in Sicily, in a place yet unspoiled by civilization, Roxie felt the primitive urges of desire spring to life inside her. She sat perfectly still, except for the undulating movements of her chest as she struggled to breathe. She allowed him to remove her shirt and toss it into the jeep. He spread his hands across the tops of her shoulders and pushed her backward. When her heels raked over the edge of the tailgate, he reached up and unfastened her pants.

"Daniel, please..." Please what? Please, don't do this to me. Or please, don't stop. She was uncertain why she was pleading with him.

"I'm going to please you. I promise you that much."

He unzipped her pants and tugged them down around her hips. Sliding his hand beneath her buttocks, he lifted her enough to free her pants and then pulled them down her legs and over her ankles. He tossed her pants on top of her shirt.

When he crawled up in the jeep beside her, she backed away from him as far as she could. Fear of the unknown, no matter how tempting that unknown might be, claimed her completely.

Sensing her fear, Daniel knew he had to soothe her before he could please her. Before he could teach her to pleasure him. God knew, he had tried to keep his hands off her. He'd fought a valiant fight to preserve her innocence. But he couldn't fight both himself and the desire he saw in her eyes. She needed him just as much as he needed her, whether or not she realized what that need was. If he buried himself deep in her body, the way he longed to do, she would be his forever. But he couldn't offer her the "forever" she would expect. All he could give her was this one night. He could and would make love to her, but he wouldn't make her his completely. He would take what he needed and give her what she needed, but he would leave her with her most prized possession; her virginity.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "I want to kiss you and touch you. That's all I'm asking of you. Just let me show you what it can be like to have a man worship every inch of your body."

"Daniel, I..."

He ran the tip of his finger from her chin to her navel. She shuddered. He ran his finger upward, then over her breast and flicked one beaded nipple. She drew in a raspy breath.

"You like that, don't you? You like the way my touch sends quivers through your lovely body."

She reached out and circled his tiny male nipple with her index finger. Smiling, he sighed. When he pulled her into his arms, she resisted momentarily, then succumbed to the seduction of desire the instant her aching breasts encountered his muscular chest. His mouth devoured hers as he pressed her down into the jeep's bed and straddled her hips. She tried to protest when she felt the heavy weight of his body, but he relieved some of the pressure by lifting his chest and placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. He lowered his sex until it nestled in the thatch of raven hair at the apex of her thighs. Instinct guided her movements as she lifted her hips to meet him.

For a couple of seconds he felt as if he was going to explode. I can do this. I can do this. He silently repeated the phrase again and again, until the words became a litany. Easing his body alongside hers, he broke the kiss, then lowered his head to one breast and lifted his hand to the other. With gentle, repetitive strokes of his tongue, he laved one nipple, while he pinched the other between his thumb and forefinger. He alternated attentions from one breast to the other, until Roxie writhed beneath him, her body begging for release.

"My breasts ache," she told him shyly. "And I'm throbbing. I'm..."

He grabbed her hand and dragged it down her body, pushing it against her mound. "Is this where you're throbbing, Roxie? Is this where you're hurting the most?"

On a timid, hushed little breath, she mumbled, "Yes."

"Then let me take away the hurt."

Darkness surrounded them. The last glimmering glow of twilight silhouetted their faces as they gazed at each other.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please."

Daniel kissed and licked a hot, damp trail from her breasts to her navel. He spread her thighs apart, lifted her legs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thighs. When he nuzzled her intimately, she moaned. When his lips closed around her clit, she thrust her fist into her mouth to muffle her cry of rapture. She squirmed, trying to grind herself more fully, at the same time afraid of the way he made her feel. But he held her hips in his big hands and made love to her with his lips, fingers, and tongue; stroking, sucking, and pressing. Roxie writhed under his masterful attentions, lost to reality; no longer thinking, only feeling. Ever so slowly, her body coiled tighter and tighter. He increased the tempo and the pressure of his caresses as her core wept with her dew. When he sensed she was on the brink, he added just the right amount of quick, hard pressure, and pushed her over the precipice and headlong into a mind blowing orgasm. When he pulled her trembling body into his arms, she clung to him, weeping as the last echoes of her fulfillment rippled over her nerve endings.

"Daniel." She whispered his name against his chest.

He wanted to take her, thrust into her with powerful force and ease his agony.

"It's all right, Roxie. It's all right." He petted her, rubbing her back, her buttocks, her thighs, her hair. "I wanted to be the first man to give you pleasure."

"I never dreamed something like that could be so...sensualistic and wonderful." She wrapped her arm across his chest.

"I'm glad I made it sensualistic and wonderful for you." He kissed the top of her head.

She lifted her head from his chest and searched his face in the darkness. "But you didn't... I mean you must also need...satisfaction."

He grabbed her hand and urged it down his body. She followed his lead as he guided her hand toward his arousal and began a slow, steady movement. When she picked up the rhythm, he removed his hand and allowed her to take over the task completely.

"Am I doing it right?" she asked, knowing that if they hadn't been shrouded in the dimness, she might not have been able to touch him so intimately. The growl started deep in his chest, rose up to his throat and then erupted from his mouth. "Yes!" His body jerked once, twice, thrice. He groaned louder, his cry of a male in the throes of release, depositing his seed on his belly.

Daniel drew Roxie into his arms and kissed her, while the aftershocks of fulfillment spiraled through his body. "You have no idea how many times I had to do that myself the last six weeks."

"Do what?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Masturbate, of course. You see, Roxie dear, for whatever reason, I am always aroused around you."

So am I, she wanted to admit. Although she had never in her adult life even considered masturbating, she had been thinking about it the last six weeks.

He eased her onto the tailgate. When he picked her up, she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he carried her into the water. He bathed her and then himself.

She clung to him, feeling as if she were almost a part of him, feeling his sex poking her between her buttocks. "Oh, Daniel!" She surrendered completely, giving herself over to him. And when he brought her back to the jeep, she cuddled in his arms, too happy and content to worry about what the morning would bring. After giving her another orgasm with his talented mouth, she and Daniel fell asleep in each others arms.

To be continued...



Italian Rhapsody Ch. 03



La Rocca, Cefalu, Sicily

Roxie awoke alone in the jeep. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. Suddenly realizing she was naked, she crossed her arms over her breasts and clasped her elbows. Memories of last night flooded her mind. Daniel's lips on hers. His hands and mouth on her body, giving her the ultimate pleasure. And her hand circling him. Giving him sexual release like he did her.

Sighing as she remembered the way his tender, intimate loving had made her feel, she sat up quickly and looked for him. A hundred jumbled thoughts rioted in her mind. Emotions of various kinds warred within her. She had allowed Daniel intimacies that should have been reserved for her real husband. She had given herself over completely to his desires, letting him do with her as he wanted. If he had asked for more, she would have given it to him. She would have given him everything. She should feel remorse and shame, but she didn't. There had been nothing ugly or dirty or evil about what she and Daniel had shared. The experience had been the most beautiful and profound moment of her life. And she still had her virginity.

But how did Daniel feel about what had happened? Somehow she doubted that their lovemaking held the same significance for him as it did for her. Glancing around, Roxie noticed her boots sitting on the tailgate beside her folded clothes. Morning sunlight filtered through the trees. She checked her watch. Eight o'clock. Why had he let her sleep so late? They should have resumed their trek up the mountain at dawn. She dressed hurriedly, groaning when she discovered her bra and panties were still slightly damp. Just as she stuffed her shirt into her pants and pulled up the zipper, Daniel approached the jeep. He held two metal cups in his hands. She slid off the open tailgate and met him. He offered her one of the cups. "Sorry it's not hot coffee. Fresh water will have to do."

"Thanks. Fresh water sounds great." She took the cup from him, deliberately letting her fingers brush across his.

When he looked at her, she smiled. He returned her smile. She had slept in his arms all night, her naked body nestled against his. He had rested in a half awake state. His instincts had warned him to be on guard for wild animals, for unexpected human intruders, and for a resurgence of passion. Realizing that she was his for the taking had made it all the more difficult not to make love to her again; fully and completely. No woman had ever held any power over him. No woman had ever been a fever in his blood. He sure as hell wasn't going to let some religious virgin wrap him around her little finger and make him vulnerable.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Like a baby." She took a sip of the cool water. "Why did you let me sleep so long? We should have gotten an earlier start."

"We both needed the rest." He finished his cup of water. "We might not have to do anything while we are here."

"What do you mean?"

"Vladimir and Giancarlo are doing the work for us. They have way more knowledge than we have. They are both former Mafia gangsters, so they know what to do."

"That is good news."

Walking past her, he leaned over into the jeep, pulled out their ration bag and rummaged in it. He retrieved the last two bananas and oranges, and held out one of each to her.

Roxie sensed the strain between them. She wondered if Daniel felt as awkward as she did. Probably not. After all, what had happened last night was hardly a new experience for him, even if it had been for her. She didn't like to think about how many other women he had given the same shattering ecstasy. Or about how many women had given him far more than she had. She stared at Daniel. He looked so big and powerful and almost savage in his wrinkled fatigues, with his long, black ponytail and his five days' growth of dark stubble. He cocked his head slightly, as if listening for the sound of predators. Sunlight hit the gold ring in his left ear. When he lifted his ponytail and flung it over his shoulder, Roxie stared at the coiled-cobra tattoo on his left hand. Her stomach tightened into knots. Dear Lord, this savage-looking man was the real predator. Dangerous and deadly. And yet every instinct within her cried out that she could trust him. That he would never harm her. That to others he might be a predator, but to her he was a protector.

After he had peeled an orange, he held it out to her. She lifted the fruit and brought it to her mouth. While nibbling on the juicy flesh of the orange, she watched Daniel as he peeled the other orange, lifted it to his mouth and bit into it hungrily. He lay the knife onto the tailgate.

Roxie shivered, remembering the vivid sensations of Daniel feasting on her body; the moist sounds, the musky smells, her own taste on his lips when he'd kissed her, and the hot, unbearable pleasure. Heat rose up her neck and flushed her face. She glanced away, not wanting him to realize what she was thinking. She nibbled on the orange, each bite lodging in her throat.

Picking up the knife, Daniel tossed the orange rinds aside, wiped his hands on his pants, and slid the knife under his seat in the jeep, then turned and looked at Roxie.

"As soon as you...uh...freshen up, we can drive into town," he said.

She nodded her understanding, took a couple more bites out of the banana and then tossed the skin into the trees. Relieving herself in the seclusion of the nearby thicket and washing her hands and face in the pond took a quick five minutes. When she returned to the jeep, she found that Daniel had cleared away the camouflage of limbs and was already behind the wheel. As soon as she climbed into her seat, he started the engine, but didn't shift the gears. He glanced at her.

She felt his heated gaze. Turn around and face him, she told herself. You can't pretend that what happened between the two of you last night didn't really happen. But she didn't want to face the truth, didn't want to accept the fact that, for him, last night had been nothing special. Instinctively, she knew he was going to say something that would break her heart.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at him. He reached out and clasped her chin, cradling it in the hollow between his thumb and forefinger.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Roxie."

"I can't help the way I feel," she said. "I've never done anything like that before and...and I've never allowed anyone to...to do those things to me. No man has ever made me feel the way you do."

He squeezed her chin. "Don't make a big deal out of this, okay? It all boils down to one simple thing; I'm a man and you're a woman. We both needed a little sexual release. So, I gave you pleasure, and you gave me pleasure. That's what happened. That's all that happened."

"That's all that happened." She repeated his words like a trained parrot.

"I admit that you might have lost a little of your innocence, but you didn't lose your virginity. You still have that to give to the lucky guy you'd marry for real."

He released her chin, turned around and shifted the gears. When he pulled the jeep onto road, Roxie leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, covering her tears.

He was right; she hadn't lost her precious virginity. What he didn't know, what he must never find out, was that she had lost something far more valuable; she had lost her heart to him. She had gone and done it; she had fallen in love with him.

"You've got me confused with some imaginary man you've conjured up," he said when she again told him that he was a good man. "I have nothing in common with your brother. Don't kid yourself, lady. I barely have a soul anymore, and what's left of it sure as hell isn't good."

Roxie bit down on her bottom lip, as tears lodged in her throat. Poor Daniel. She had been right. He was tormented by demons. And those demons had convinced him that they were destroying his soul.

Closing her eyes, Roxie said a silent prayer. Dear Lord, give me the power to help cleanse Daniel's soul. Let him open his heart to my love for him.

Later in the day they were a few miles from the cabin when it started raining. Leaning back against a tree, Daniel pulled Roxie into his arms, pressing her close, as the rain soaked into their clothes. She lifted her face to his. He lowered his head. She parted her lips in unspoken invitation. His mouth covered hers with savage possession.

She clung to him, returning the passion of his kiss, ravenously taking from him and then giving back in full measure. He broke the kiss, gasping for air.Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed his pierced left earlobe. "Tell me about your first time."He chuckled, the deep sound resonating up from his chest. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Now you have to tell me, and you know it." Lifting her arms from his waist, she draped them around his neck.

"I was fourteen the first time I got fu... I mean...uh...the first time I had sex."

Roxie's eyes rounded and her mouth dropped open. "Fourteen?"

"Yeah, I was a pervert when I was young."

"You!" Laughing, she poked him in the ribs.

He grabbed her jabbing hand and laid it over his heart. "Her name was Maria and she was my buddy's older sister. She was seventeen and a very experienced girl by the time she... Well, Maria had this thing. Whenever she made a man out of a boy, so to speak, she marked him with a tattoo on the back of the neck. Being seen bearing Maria's mark was quite a big deal in my neighborhood. You were envied by every guy."

Flushed with naive embarrassment, Roxie lowered her head, unable to look Daniel in the eye.

Tucking his fist under her chin, he lifted her face. "Are you sorry you asked?" He grinned wickedly.

"A little. But that's only half the story." She glared at him, looking lovely with her cheeks stained pink and her green eyes wide.

"What more do you want to know? Are you asking for details?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No. Well...maybe. As a matter of fact..."

"She was like the neighborhood prostitute. Men and boys went to her for sex. For a price, of course."

"Stop!" she said. "I don't need to hear any..."

Daniel kissed her quickly. 

She gasped.

He laughed.

She frowned.

"Before my sixteenth birthday, I've gone through more than fifty partners."

Fifty! Roxie laid her head on Daniel's chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. He held her, wanting her as he had never wanted another woman. That desperate need scared him. And he wasn't a man who scared easily. How had this happened? he wondered. How was it possible that his desire to have sex with this plump spinster had become interwoven with a gut-wrenching need to possess her completely; body and soul?

While they stood under the trees, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain slacked off and gradually stopped altogether. By the time he eased Roxie from his arms and turned her toward the road, he was painfully aroused.

They talked very little for the next couple of hours as they trekked up the narrow path. The distant rumble of thunder followed them as did dark, heavy clouds. Daniel was sure it would rain again tonight. Not hearing or seeing signs of any other humans was a lucky break for them. As long as they remained in this territory, they ran the risk of running into some Mafioso's.

"We'll stop soon," he said.

"I'm okay," she told him. "Don't stop on my account."

She was one stubborn woman, he thought. Her face was flushed, but a pale ring circled her mouth. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of her frowning. He knew the signs. She was in pain, but didn't want him to know. Didn't she realize by now that she didn't have to keep proving herself to him? He already knew how brave and strong she was.

"Well, I'm thirsty," he told her. "And I need to take a..." Booming thunder cut him off.

The swirling clouds obscured the late-afternoon sun. Knowing that night would come early because of the impending rainstorm, Daniel led Roxie in search of shelter. Surely there was shelter somewhere. All they needed tonight was one small hole in the mountainside.

They walked farther and farther from the road. And not a sign of a cave or even an overhanging boulder. If they didn't find some sort of shelter soon, they would be getting cold and wet.

"Look!" Roxie cried out, pointing ahead. "That's some sort of stone building, isn't it?"

La Rocca of Cefalù, the rock, known by the Phoenicians as Hercules promontory, is a massive spectacular calcareous crag with an altitude of 270 meters. The mythological and legendary origins tell of the importance of the area. A Greek myth tells of the love and despair of the handsome shepherd Daphnis, Sicily's Orpheus. He was blinded by the goddess Hera whose daughter he had betrayed, and was then transformed by the god Hermes into the huge crag that dominates Cefalù and that gave the place its name. The ancient Greek inhabitants saw it as a gigantic head, and 'head' is in fact the meaning of the town's name.

Sitting at the top of La Rocca there were the remains of the Cefalù Castle. The structure dated back to the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It had a rectangular plan of thirty-five by twenty meters. What was left of those ancient stones made it possible for experts to formulate a firm hypothesis on the layout of the castle which consisted of two towers and twelve rooms. The castle dominated the surroundings of Cefalù showing how important strategically La Rocca and castle once were.

Near the ruins of the fortress at the top of the rock of Cefalù were the remnants of the Temple of Diana, a Megalithic building which dated back to the ninth century BC. It is believed to have originally had a sacred function connected with local water worship, in fact, into it there is a cistern which also dated back to the ninth century. Because of its strategic position, which dominated the surrounding area, the building probably had a defensive role as well.

Thunder echoed throughout the mountainous region. A raindrop hit Daniel's face, and soon it came down harder. Hurrying to the mostly crumbled stone shelter, he led Roxie forward toward it. He stopped. Running into his back, she steadied herself by grabbing him around the waist.

"Take a look at this," he said.

Roxie eased around beside him. "Oh, my." She stared in awe at the sight before her.

The building lay in ruins. Grass and weeds grew up between the individual rocks comprising the floor.

Thunder rolled overhead. The rain increased in intensity. Daniel grabbed Roxie's hand and together they ran up the stone steps.

Drenched and breathless, they clung to each other as the rains came down in a heavy deluge. Lightning shot out of the sky and struck a nearby tree. Fire sparked between the severed limbs, but the rain doused the flames.

Roxie snuggled closer to Daniel, grasping the back of his damp shirt. "What is this place?" Her voice quivered.

"I'd say it was some sort of temple. Probably the Temple of Diana." He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "You're shivering. Are you cold?"

"I'm just a little chilled, that's all. The rain is cold."

"I can't build a fire, but..." He hesitated making the suggestion. "I can pull out the sleeping bag and we can take off our wet clothes and..."

She laid two fingers over his lips. Her hand trembled. He kissed her fingers and eased her hand away.

"I'll spread out the sleeping bag and we can sit down and share body heat." Dropping his hands from around her, he stepped back a few inches.

Smiling weakly, she nodded. "Alright. You do that and I'll fill our cups with rainwater."

She set the cups out in the rain until they overflowed. She placed the cups on a carved niche in the stone wall and watched Daniel draw the sleeping bag out of the sack and lay it on the floor. Did he know how very tempted she had been to agree to his suggestion? The moment he mentioned taking off their clothes, her body recalled last night's pleasures. But if she gave herself over to her desires tonight, things would be different. And she was sure he knew that, too. The erotic experience they had shared last night would never be enough again. If he touched her tonight, he would ask her for more. And she would give it to him. She was already in love with him. She hadn't intended for it to happen. She had fought her feelings with all her strength. But she had come to realize that there was no point in fighting the inevitable. He was her destiny. And she was his. He might not realize it yet, but eventually he would. He could no more fight the powerful magnetism between them than she could. He probably thought that it was nothing more than lust, but he was wrong.

"Dinner is served, belladonna." He bowed gallantly.

There was that word again; fair lady in Italian. She picked up their cups and carried them across the shadowy area. Nighttime would soon encompass the old temple and seal them into a dark, safe hideaway. The ruins had no roof but they stayed against the wall in the corner. She handed him a cup, then sat down on the outspread sleeping bag. He sat down in front of her and handed her one of Vladimir's meals. He finished off the unknown foodstuff hurriedly, washing it down with the water.

Roxie ate more of the concoction than she'd thought she would, taking sips of water after every bite. The moment she finished her meal, Daniel shoved aside the empty containers and metal cups. Instinctively, she scooted away from him.

"I'm not sleeping in my wet clothes, so if you don't want to see me naked, you'd better turn around," he said.

She turned quickly, facing the opposite direction. Her heart beat wildly as images of his magnificent naked body flashed through her mind. Shivering from head to toe, she clasped her hands in her lap and prayed for the strength to resist temptation. She tried not to listen to the noises he made while he undressed. The thump of one boot and then another as they hit the floor. The swirl of air when he stripped off his shirt. The metallic sound when he unzipped his pants.

Daniel knelt behind her, and Roxie scooted to the edge of the sleeping bag. When he touched her hair, she jumped. Soothing her, he stroked his hand across her shoulder. She didn't move, barely breathed while he unbraided her hair. Keeping her back to him, she sat stiffly when he spread out the long, damp strands.

"I love your hair," he said, his voice low. "Even in this dim light it is lovely."

She swallowed hard. Cupping her shoulders with his open palms, he closed his hands over her wet sleeves in a tight grasp. She tensed momentarily, but when he lowered his head and nuzzled her neck, she gasped and let her body lean backward into his. Nuzzling aside her hair, he kissed her neck.

"You know how much I want you, don't you?" he whispered in her ear.

He eased his hands down and then back up her arms. She sighed. His fingertips trailed across her collarbone. His palms covered her straining breasts. Tossing back her head, she melted against him and knew that now there would be no resisting temptation, no turning back from the inevitability of what lay ahead for them. With fingers that had suddenly lost their dexterity, Daniel fumbled with the buttons on her wet shirt. She lay back against him, neither helping nor hindering his efforts. He stripped the shirt from her body, then unhooked her bra and tossed both shirt and bra toward the foot of the sleeping bag. Encompassing her breasts, he squeezed gently, then lifted them and stroked their peaks with his thumbs.

Roxie moaned from the incredible pleasure as he flicked her nipples into tight brown nubs. He placed a row of slow, damp kisses across one shoulder and then the other, all the while tormenting her breasts with his hands.

"I've never wanted anyone or anything in my whole life as much as the way I want you."

He slipped one hand down between her thighs and touched her intimately. She moaned as tremors rippled through her. "I will not take your virginity if you don't want me to. You've saved that for the man you'll marry for real someday, but we can give each other the same pleasure we shared last night."




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 03



"I want you, too." Her voice quivered ever so slightly.

"Ah, Roxie, honey." What was it about her that drove him insane? What did this sweet, stubborn little plump virgin have that made her so irresistible? He turned her to face him, grasped each side of her waist and drew her up on her knees. He hoped the light would last long enough for him to see her while he made love to her. He wanted to watch her fall apart. He lifted her to her feet, unzipped and removed her slacks, along with her panties, then kicked them aside.

A sudden weakness claimed her limbs. Her knees buckled. Daniel wrapped her hair around his hand and drew her closer. Inserting his foot between her ankles, he gently parted her legs. She gasped at the instant sensation of being exposed. Lowering his head, he kissed her. A slow, deep kiss. Nibbles on her lower lip. Licks circling her whole mouth. Tentative thrusts into the warm interior.

Circling his waist with her arms, she inched her fingers up his naked back. He walked her backward on top of the sleeping bag until her buttocks encountered the wall. He pressed his hard body against her, allowing her to feel the heaviness of his throbbing arousal. She didn't flinch when he lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes as he eased his fingers up her thigh, parting her farther. He slipped inside her, testing her. Instinctively, she closed her thighs around his intruding hand. She twisted and turned, inflaming her own desire as well as his. He probed and retreated, then probed again. He raked his thumb across her clit. Pressing her head back against the wall, she groaned as he played with her clitoris. Color washed up her neck and over her face.

With one hand he petted her with knowledgeable strokes while he lowered his mouth to her breast. He ached with need.

"Please, oh, please..." she whimpered.

"Let it happen, sweetness. Just let go."

Hot, wild sensation consumed her. Pressing, pressing, pressing. With one final stroke, he broke the tightly coiled spring inside her, unraveling the pleasure. Her body jerked repeatedly as fulfillment claimed her. While the aftershocks of release still tingled along her nerve endings, Daniel drew her hand down to circle his erection. She held him, caressing him tenderly. She kissed the center of his chest, then slid her tongue up to his throat. "You said you wouldn't take my virginity..."

"And I won't." No matter how desperately I want to make you mine completely.

"But what if I want to...give it to you? What if we keep that piece of paper and make it real. What if..."

"Don't do this to me. Don't..."

Releasing her intimate hold on him, she stood on tiptoe and wrapped herself around him. "I love you, Daniel. I realize you probably don't want my love, but you have it. And because I love you, I want you to be my first and only lover." Now and forever.

"You shouldn't love me. I'm not a good person, honey. I'm not good enough for you." All the while he tried to reject her, his arousal pulsed against her belly.

"It doesn't matter," she said, her voice echoing in the shadowy twilight, as the heavy rain created a cocoon around them inside the ancient temple. "Don't you understand, my love? I'm good for you, Daniel, and that is what's important."

"God, forgive me." He was no saint. He was only a man. He didn't possess the strength to reject her precious gift. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her away from the wall and lowered her to the sleeping bag, then gently straddled her hips.

Take it easy. Go slow. Don't hurt her. He probed her with his fingers, parting her, stroking her, preparing her. Then he lowered himself over her, easing slowly into her. When she tensed, he murmured soothing, almost incoherent words to her.

Lifting her head, she captured his mouth. When he thrust his tongue inside, she lifted her hips, bringing him deeper inside her. Unable to resist her invitation, he drove into her. Slipping his hands beneath her hips he lifted her, bringing them together. He filled her completely, making their bodies one.

Daniel held Roxie, unmoving, waiting for the pain from his invasion to ease. She gasped as the pain knifed through her, she didn't try to hold back her cries. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and trickled into her hair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He mouthed the words against her cheek.

She stroked his buttocks, then pressed down on his spine, urging him to continue. "There's more to making love, isn't there? I want it all," she said.

He worked himself back and forth, thrusting and retreating, plunging, pleasuring, giving her all of him and taking back everything from her. He couldn't make it last, couldn't take the time to bring her to a fulfillment again. When he felt the tingling warnings of his imminent release, he rammed his tongue into her mouth.

Roxie urged him to the edge with every breath she took, acting purely on instinct. Wanting to give him pleasure, she lost herself in the pursuit of his release. He groaned into her mouth. He froze for an instant, then hammered into her with quick, sharp, frantic thrusts. She felt his release, warm and moist inside her. And she listened, with happiness, to his triumphant, deep-throated growl of completion.

Daniel eased his body alongside hers, then lifted the sleeping bag over them and zippered them inside the padded warmth. She cuddled in his arms. He kissed her. "Rest now, honey."

When Roxie fell asleep almost instantly, sated and secure, he held her close. She was his now; in every way a woman could belong to a man. His feelings of possessiveness for her surprised him. But he could no more control those feelings than he could stop the sun from rising tomorrow.

He made love to her again during the long night, finding her entrance easily, and taking her with wild abandon in the darkness as she lay on her stomach. As they shared the pleasure the second time, Roxie shattered in ecstasy as he exploded inside her once more.

At first light of dawn, she awoke when Daniel drew her on top of him and urged her to ride him. She was sore, but with her body aching from the two previous couplings and the aftereffects of their orgasms, her desire for him made her more than willing to give and find pleasure for a third time. Afterward, they slept for a brief time, then washed and dressed quickly. Roxie braided her hair, while he prepared their breakfast. They shared another of Vladimir's meals, then packed up and left the ancient temple.

Halting before they continued on their way again, Roxie took one last look at the ruins. She would never forget the night she'd shared with Daniel, within the sheltering arms of a building once held sacred by a people who long ago had vanished from the earth.

He pulled her close and kissed her. "No regrets?" he asked.

"None," she told him, kissing him back.

Vladimir had an itch that needed scratching, and only Daniel's woman could scratch it. And if she didn't scratch that itch, she was not getting her nephew back until she did. If he had to blackmail her, then so be it. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed a number. After leaving a short message in Russian, he hit the power-off button on the phone.

While making sure Roxie was not paying attention to him for the moment, Daniel listened to the message that was left on his phone by Vladimir. It was in Russian, but he understood it. He wanted him to go into Cefalù and wait for him there at a bar that they used to hang out at.

They made their way down La Rocca and arrived back at their cabin a few hours later. 

Letting her know what he was about to do, he convinced her to stay at the cabin until he'd return in an hour or two.

As soon as Daniel left for town, Roxie went back into the house and closed the door behind her. She decided to rest until he returned.

Unknown to Roxie, Vladimir had been looking appreciatively at her for the last little while, liking the way her shirt molded her full breasts.

Fully clothed, she lay down across the bed and closed her eyes. Memories of Daniel filled her mind. His wicked smile. His deep, sexy laughter. His strong arms holding her. His soft lips taking hers in a ravenous kiss. His body covering hers. Her hand crept to the juncture of her thighs. As she caressed her breasts with one hand, and between her legs with the other, she stopped suddenly. Her eyes flew open. She willed her breathing to slow from its frantic pace. Taking several deep breaths, she sat up in the middle of the bed and crossed her legs at the ankle.

Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door. Not thinking that it could be anyone but Daniel, she got out of bed and started toward the door, and called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and in walked the man she was so curious about. Her heart sped up in excitement. Or was it fear? Fear of what this man was capable of. He was Daniel's friend, and he trusted him. He used to me a member of the Vor V Zakone; a powerful criminal organization in Moscow.

"Where is Daniel?" she asked Vladimir.

"As far as I know, he is in town to get food," he lied. But by the time he would be back, it will be too late. You will not see him again, he wanted to add, and just watch the expression on her face change to horror. But not yet. First he wanted a taste of her without using force. And he needed to pass the time while waiting for this cohort with the jeep.

Her eyes looked like emerald pools, her lips like the dewy petals of a rose. Soft and sweet. Irresistible. The breeze stirred the curls at her neck, drawing his gaze to the creamy skin at her throat. And lower, to the cleavage above her shirt. He wanted to kiss her, he realized. Really kiss her. But the question was, would she let him? Would she resist or succumb? Slap his face or kiss him back? It was a gamble, Vladimir decided, no matter how you looked at it. As if reading his thoughts, she took a little half-step away from him, but Vladimir reached out to cup the nape of her neck, so soft and alluring, and gently pull her back to him. He would have her, willing or not. She was an unusually beautiful woman. In the sex trafficking business, usually the young girls and women were skinny or slim. But with this plump American woman, he'd make an exception. She was beautiful enough, and her plumpness would be an asset. He knew that there were men who wanted women with more flesh on their bones. She'd be popular among the Arab customer, who he knew liked plumb women.

"Vladimir, no," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"I'm with Daniel," she said with an edge of desperation. "And it would be wrong."

"I am only thinking of now," he said. "And I want to kiss you. You have no idea how much."

"But..." Her voice sounded shaky, as if she didn't quite trust her resistance. Vladimir pressed his advantage, felt her yield ever so slightly.

"It'll only confuse things," she said. "Mess everything up."

"No, it would not. How could it? We can handle this. Besides, maybe I get it out of my system. Maybe there will be something between us."

"Maybe I don't want to know," she said softly, almost sadly. "Maybe it would hurt too much to know that I did something that I shouldn't have."

But she didn't back away from him this time, and he knew that in spite of what she'd said, a part of her needed to know. Once and for all. No matter what the consequences. He lifted his other hand to her shoulder and pulled her to him. This time she didn't resist. This time she came willingly into his arms. He held her for a moment, gazing down at her in the dim light. Then he bent to feather a kiss on her forehead, down her jaw-line, and finally, when he could deny himself no longer, he touched his mouth to hers. Her lips trembled beneath his. Her eyes drifted closed and for a moment, the world stopped and time stood still. Nothing existed in the universe but the two of them, a man and a woman. Lovers reunited in this picturesque place. When he would have deepened the kiss, he held back. The passion was there, yes, but that could wait. He pulled back and stared down at her. Roxie's eyes shimmered in the moonlight. A tear rolled down her cheek, but he felt nothing stir inside him. He was a man without a conscience, or emotion. He considered them a weakness. For him it was survival of the fittest. May the strongest survive. Might makes right. He couldn't afford to be soft. He can be cruel one moment, and a gentle lover the next. He thumbed the tear away and whispered to her in the darkness.

"I know," he said. "I know."

Her heart accelerated. Her stomach fluttered with awareness.

"I don't..."

"Be honest with yourself. There is something between us."

"I wasn't going to deny it," she said softly. "I was going to say, I don't know how I feel. I still believe this is wrong, but I can't seem to help myself."

"That's okay." Vladimir smiled down at her in the dim light. "No one is rushing you. We got time to figure out before Daniel gets back."

Did they? Suddenly she wanted more than anything to believe it was only fascination she felt for the huge, tattooed, former Russian gangster. He bent to kiss her and Roxie closed her eyes, a maelstrom of emotions washing over her. Not sadness this time. She knew there was going to be remorse, but still she wanted this to continue. For some reason it was exciting her rather than causing her to run.

When Vladimir kissed her this time, it felt like a first kiss. Like the promise of a new beginning. She parted her lips and let her tongue gently dance with Vladimir's. Tightening his arms around her, he pulled her close, until their bodies melted together and the kiss deepened. The sensations rushing through Roxie intensified. The night suddenly came alive with their passionate kissing. He pulled back long enough to whisper her name in the near darkness, a sensual plea that sent shivers of desire up and down her back. Then his mouth claimed hers again, hungrier this time, more demanding. Under her shirt, his big hands moved over her, and everywhere he touched set her on fire.

My God, she thought in a daze. Please forgive me for being such a wanton. It had also been like this with Daniel? How could she do this after being with Daniel? A touch of longing swept through her, intensifying the desire. How had she gone without sex for thirty years, and now all of a sudden she became hungry for Daniel's, and now this Russian man's, kiss? The touch of both men. How had she managed to convince herself, even for a moment, that she and Vladimir were not meant to be? As if sensing her mood, he broke the kiss and pulled away to stare down at her in the lamplight. He pushed back her hair from her face with a hand that was exquisitely gentle, but his eyes were still dark and intense, still burning with passion.

"I'm not sure why I am here," he murmured huskily.

Roxie managed a weak smile. "Me, neither."

"I did not plan for this to happen." His tone turned ironic. "Then again, I feel as if I have been waiting all my life for this."

"Vladimir..."

"I will try not to rush you. I know it has not been that long since Daniel made love to you."

At the mention of her temporary husband, a cold feeling seemed to invade her being. Roxie shivered in Vladimir's arms.

"No, it hasn't," she said, gently pulling away from him. Vladimir let her go, watching her with hooded eyes.

"You have feelings for him, yes?"

"I do, but he thinks it's just lust that he feels for me," she answered truthfully. She stepped away from him and the room seemed to grow colder, darker, the shadows more menacing at the mention of her husband's name. A premonition of dread slipped over her. "It's getting late," she whispered. "You have to go before Daniel comes back from Cefalù."

Vladimir started to protest, but then he must have seen something in her eyes, the look on her face, for a shutter closed over his own expression.

"You are right," he said. "It is late." Maybe too late, his tone seemed to imply. "You are so perfect," he whispered. "Everywhere I touch. Here." He kissed her neck. "Here." His hand cupped her large breast. "Here." His fingers skimmed down her stomach. "And here..." Roxie's eyes lifted to meet the Russian's, and in that instant, she knew he was experiencing the same lust she was, making her wonder what it would be like to be in his arms now, having him explore all the erotic places only Daniel had. I want him, she thought suddenly, with an intensity that stole her breath away. God, I'm sorry for wanting this, needing this.

"We are both free to do what we want." He cupped her face, gazing into her eyes. "I want to kiss you."

She smiled, her heart hammering inside her. "You've already done that."

"I mean, really kiss you."

"Oh..." There was no time to say anything more because he bent swiftly and captured her lips with his, and Roxie knew instantly what he meant. The other kisses they'd shared had only been preludes to this. She closed her eyes, yielding to the temptation, letting the sensations sweep her away on a tide of passion and the promise of what was to come. Vladimir's lips possessed hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, conquering her resistance. And then, as the heat built inside her, she conquered him, kissing him, touching him, whispering to him words she'd never thought she'd say to anyone except Daniel. They somehow got their clothing parted and out of the way enough so that Vladimir could slid his huge erection inside her undulating body. When he was buried to the hilt, he stilled. After a long moment, he began a frantic series of thrusts and withdrawals. In the midst of pleasure, a surge of overwhelming regret at what she was doing, washed over Roxie as she thought about Daniel, thinking she belonged only to him. 

Vladimir saw her tears in the dim light and raised himself on one elbow to stare down at her. "What is wrong?"

"I just thought of Daniel, and how very wrong this is. I'm a whore. God will not..."

He wiped away her tears. "Do not think back. Think about now, what we shared. I still want you. Truth is, I think I love you. I want you to come to Moscow with me. We can live there for a while."

"Vladimir..." He touched a fingertip to her lips, silencing her when she wanted so badly to tell him that she didn't love him; that she never would love him. But to admit that, would tell her that she loved Daniel, that she still believed that what she and him had shared was something to be held sacred. Vladimir wouldn't understood that. He didn't know her as well as Daniel did.

"I don't love you, Vladimir," she said softly. "It is just lust. I regret that I allowed myself to fall victim to your touch. I admit I liked it, but whether or not you believe it, it was wrong what we just did."

"Are you sure?" He bent to kiss her, softly at first. But then, as he wrapped his arms around her and molded her body to his, the heat began to build all over again. "And I can make you want me again," he said. "Daniel doesn't deserve great woman like you. All women in his life either get killed, or they leave him."

He suddenly sounded different to he ears. "It wouldn't mean anything." Roxie tried to struggle from his grasp, but he held her tighter, hauling her against him until she could hardly breathe. He ran a hand through her hair, tightening and pulling her head back to expose her throat.

"I want you again," he said, moving his hips against her, sliding himself in and out of her tight body. His shaft quickly filled with blood again as he thrust slowly, allowing himself to get harder before he completely lost himself within her hot center. 

She felt him thickening within her. Once again he drove her to erotic heights, causing her to orgasm in spite of her trying hard not to respond a second time. She raised her legs and bent them at the knees, letting them fall to the side, opening herself wide. She hated herself for letting this happen. Not once, but twice. 




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 03



When he was getting ready to leave, he tried taking her into his arms again. "I want what I've been wanting since I first saw you." He tried to kiss her, but Roxie turned her head away. He laughed. "Maybe you won't have quite so much fight in you once your lover is dead."

Now she knew something was very wrong. Fear froze her for a few seconds. She had to get away, warn Daniel he was in danger. Vladimir Trakirov was not Daniel's friend. Something had come unhinged inside him. But even as she struggled to free herself, she saw another man coming toward them from the open door. At first she thought it was Daniel and tried to cry out a warning. She was reaching for the door knob of the bedroom, but Vladimir's hand slipped around her neck and clamped over her mouth and nose, pulling her back against his hard body. Her fear deepened as the other man moved from the shadows into the moonlight, but she didn't recognized him. Neither did she understand his words.

"Let's get this over with," he said in Russian to Vladimir.

"Hurry up," Vladimir replied in Russian

Vladimir dropped his hand from her mouth long enough to pull a saturated cloth from his partner's outstretched hand. In the brief instant it took for him to raise it to her face, Roxie opened her mouth to scream, but barely a sound got out as he slapped the cloth over her mouth and nose, stifling the noise. Panic bubbled up inside her. She couldn't breathe. Within seconds the fumes of whatever was saturating the cloth, overpowered her. Her knees buckled and she slipped silently into unconsciousness.

Her body was placed in the second man's car, and the men left with their victim unconscious in the back seat.

"When can I have her?" Vladimir's partner asked when they were on a paved road, heading to Messina, on the Strait of Messina. They intended to take her to Vlorë, Albania, and from there, to the region of Tropojë. It was there in the northwest where young girls and women were sold as sex slaves, was especially bad.

Never, he wanted to tell him. She's mine. "When we get to our destination," he replied, "take her aboard the ship, and lock her in my cabin. If she wakes up, inject her with the drug I gave you."

"And when can I have her?" he asked again.

"Not until I tire of her. Understand? I don't share my women."

Daniel was waiting in a bar when his phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket. He looked at the caller ID and saw Vladimir's name. He flipped it open, holding it to his ear. "Vlad! Where the hell are you? Are you coming or not? I'm getting impatient sitting here while Roxanne is all by herself."

"Really? Good to know."

Vladimir's voice sounded different. Somehow, Daniel knew something was very wrong. Fear tore through him. "Vladimir! Where's Roxanne?"

"Where you think? Your pretty lady is with me, keeping me and my friend company. I got to tell you, Daniel, she is quite good in bed. She and I have enjoyed each other very much."

Fury churned in his chest, gripping his heart like a vise. He had to clamp his lips together to keep from screaming out profanities and threats. Caution was required when it came to Vladimir's violent tendencies. He was a very dangerous man, and he fought down the crazy part of him that longed to kill to evil bastard. His free hand plugged one ear to dull the bar sounds and he lowered his head to growl into the phone. "What did you do to her? If you hurt her, I swear I'll find you and kill you myself."

It was too rash; he knew it as soon as he said it.

"Watch your threats, Daniel. Understand? I have woman you love." The sound of Vladimir's voice convinced him to back off.

"What did you do to her?" Daniel repeated the question.

"Why? You want her back? You love her?" Vladimir taunted. "Maybe I tell her about your involvement in her brother's death. I don't think she like it very much if she knows about you working for her grandfather."

Daniel knew Vladimir's past involvement was in human trafficking, and that meant that Roxie was in serious trouble. He couldn't believe he befriended the Russian. If Roxanne found out from Vlad about him being there when her brother and his wife got killed, it could very well be that she would hate him and wouldn't want anything more to do with him. If the man were standing in front of him, Daniel's hands would be around Vladimir's thick neck, choking the life out of him.

"How much you think I could get for her, Daniel?" he goaded. "Five thousand? Ten thousand? Maybe even fifty thousand? I know some men that would pay much more for woman like Roxanne. She's is pleasantly plump for my rich Arab customers. Yes, I figure out that I could make lot of money selling her. Nothing personal, Daniel. Just business. You understand, right?"

"Let...her...go, Vladimir," he said with emphasis. "She doesn't deserve what is going to happen to her. She doesn't need to know about me being there when her brother died. I didn't kill him, his grandfather did. If I could have saved him and his wife, I would have. If I would have intervened, I would be dead also. You know that. I love her and I don't want to see her getting hurt."

"You think I care?" His voice had become calm. "I care not if you love her or that you marry her. If you married her. What I care about is getting money. More the better. I have buyers waiting to have look at her lovely, plump body that I have enjoyed so much."

"I'll give you double," Daniel offered in desperation. "I have enough money."

"I can still get more even if you give me double, Daniel."

"You greedy son-of-a-bitch. I'll give you triple."

"No deal. I rather tell on you so she forget about your betrayal."

"You are a dead man, Vladimir," Daniel shouted in fury. "I'll hunt you down and execute you myself you fucking animal. I promise that I'll find you."

"Good luck," Vladimir said, and hung up.

Daniel knew that Vladimir would most likely head to Tropojë. It was a very bad part of northeast Albania. Human smugglers from there were especially brutal. And if he'd run into anyone from there, he was going to kill them, no doubt about it. For the misery they caused countless girls and women, men like them didn't deserve to live.

Note: For the readers who have enjoyed this story so far, I just hope I didn't spoil it by the way this chapter ended. Depending on the critique I will get from this chapter will determine the way the story will go on. I'm still not sure if I should have had Roxanne do what she did by allowing Vladimir to have sex with her. I hope the critique will be more positive than negative. Because of the villain, I thought I would include it and the problem of sex trafficking.

To be continued...hopefully...



Italian Rhapsody Ch. 04



Note: Because of the negative feedback, I rewrote the end of Chapter 3. Please disregard the way it ended. I hope readers will enjoy the last chapter. It might feel like a completely different story, but I feel it was necessary to right the wrong choice I made in having Roxanne have sex with Vladimir. Because of the choice I made, I had to include a little violence, but I kept it to a minimum. I just hope the story is accepted by literotica. 



Vladimir had an itch that needed scratching, and only Daniel's woman could scratch it. And if she didn't scratch that itch, she was not getting her nephew back until she did. If he had to blackmail her, then so be it. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed a number. After leaving a short message in Russian, he hit the power-off button on the phone.

While making sure Roxie was not paying attention to him for the moment, Daniel listened to the message that was left on his phone by Vladimir. It was in Russian, but he understood it. He wanted him to go into Cefalù and wait for him there at a bar that they used to hang out at.

They made their way down La Rocca and arrived back at their cabin a few hours later. 

Letting her know what he was about to do, he convinced her to stay at the cabin until he'd return in an hour or two.

As soon as Daniel left for town, Roxie went back into the house and closed the door behind her. She decided to rest until he returned.

Unknown to Roxie, Vladimir had been looking appreciatively at her for the last little while, liking the way her shirt molded her full breasts.

Fully clothed, she lay down across the bed and closed her eyes. Memories of Daniel filled her mind. His wicked smile. His deep, sexy laughter. His strong arms holding her. His soft lips taking hers in a ravenous kiss. His body covering hers. Her hand crept to the juncture of her thighs. As she caressed her breasts with one hand, and between her legs with the other, she stopped suddenly. Her eyes flew open. She willed her breathing to slow from its frantic pace. Taking several deep breaths, she sat up in the middle of the bed and crossed her legs at the ankle.

Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door. Not thinking that it could be anyone but Daniel, she got out of bed and started toward the door, and called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and in walked the man she was so curious about. Her heart sped up in excitement. Or was it fear? Fear of what this man was capable of. He was Daniel's friend, and he trusted him. He used to me a member of the Vor V Zakone; a powerful criminal organization in Moscow.

"Where is Daniel?" she asked Vladimir.

"As far as I know, he is in town to get food," he lied. But by the time he would be back, it will be too late. You will not see him again, he wanted to add, and just watch the expression on her face change to horror. But not just yet. First he wanted a taste of her without using force. And he needed to pass the time while waiting for this cohort with the jeep.

Her eyes looked like emerald pools, her lips like the dewy petals of a rose. Soft and sweet. Irresistible. The breeze stirred the curls at her neck, drawing his gaze to the creamy skin at her throat. And lower, to the cleavage above her shirt. He wanted to kiss her, he realized. Really kiss her. But the question was, would she let him? Would she resist or succumb? Slap his face or kiss him back? It was a gamble, Vladimir decided, no matter how you looked at it. As if reading his thoughts, she took a little half-step away from him, but Vladimir reached out to cup the nape of her neck, so soft and alluring, and gently pull her back to him. He would have her, willing or not. She was an unusually beautiful woman. In the sex trafficking business, usually the young girls and women were skinny or slim. But with this plump American woman, he'd make an exception. She was beautiful enough, and her plumpness would be an asset. He knew that there were men who wanted women with more flesh on their bones. She'd be popular among the Arab customer, who he knew liked plumb women.

She knew something was very wrong. Fear froze her for a few seconds. She had to get away, warn Daniel he was in danger. Vladimir Trakirov was not Daniel's friend. Something had come unhinged inside him. But even as she struggled to free herself, she saw another man coming toward them from the open door. At first she thought it was Daniel and tried to cry out a warning. She was reaching for the door knob of the bedroom, but Vladimir's hand slipped around her neck and clamped over her mouth and nose, pulling her back against his hard body. Her fear deepened as the other man moved from the shadows into the moonlight, but she didn't recognized him. Neither did she understand his words.

"Let's get this over with," he said in Russian to Vladimir.

"Hurry up," Vladimir replied in Russian

Vladimir dropped his hand from her mouth long enough to pull a saturated cloth from his partner's outstretched hand. In the brief instant it took for him to raise it to her face, Roxie opened her mouth to scream, but barely a sound got out as he slapped the cloth over her mouth and nose, stifling the noise. Panic bubbled up inside her. She couldn't breathe. Within seconds the fumes of whatever was saturating the cloth, overpowered her. Her knees buckled and she slipped silently into unconsciousness.

Her body was placed in the second man's car, and the men left with their victim unconscious in the back seat.

"Can I have her?" Vladimir's partner asked when they were on a paved road, heading to Messina, on the Strait of Messina. They intended to take her to Vlorë, Albania, and from there, to the region of Tropojë. It was there in the northwest where young girls and women were sold as sex slaves, was especially bad.

Never, he wanted to tell him. She's mine. "When we get to our destination," he replied, "take her aboard the ship, and lock her in my cabin. If she wakes up, inject her with the drug I gave you."

"Can I have her?" he asked again.

"Not until I tire of her. Understand? I don't share."

Daniel was waiting in a bar when his phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket. He looked at the caller ID and saw Vladimir's name. He flipped it open, holding it to his ear. "Vlad! Where the hell are you? Are you coming or not? I'm getting impatient sitting here while Roxanne is all by herself."

"Really? Good to know."

Vladimir's voice sounded different. Somehow, Daniel knew something was very wrong. Fear tore through him. "Vladimir! Where's Roxanne?"

"Where you think? Your pretty lady is with me, keeping me and my friend company." He paused a few seconds. "I got to tell you, Daniel, she is quite good in bed," he lied. "She and I have enjoyed each other very much."

Fury churned in his chest, gripping his heart like a vise. He had to clamp his lips together to keep from screaming out profanities and threats. Caution was required when it came to Vladimir's violent tendencies. He was a very dangerous man, and he fought down the crazy part of him that longed to kill to evil bastard. His free hand plugged one ear to dull the bar sounds and he lowered his head to growl into the phone. "What did you do to her? If you hurt her, I swear I'll find you and kill you myself." It was too rash; he knew it as soon as he said it.

"Watch your threats, Daniel. Understand? I have woman you love." The sound of Vladimir's voice convinced him to back off.

"What did you do to her?" Daniel repeated the question.

"Why? You want her back? You love her?" Vladimir taunted. "Maybe I tell her about your involvement in her brother's death. I don't think she like it very much if she knows about you working for her grandfather."

Daniel knew Vladimir's past involvement was in human trafficking, and that meant that Roxie was in serious trouble. He couldn't believe he befriended the Russian. If Roxanne found out from Vlad about him being there when her brother and his wife got killed, it could very well be that she would hate him and wouldn't want anything more to do with him. If the man were standing in front of him, Daniel's hands would be around Vladimir's thick neck, choking the life out of him.

"How much you think I could get for her, Daniel?" he goaded. "Five thousand? Ten thousand? Maybe even fifty thousand? I know some men that would pay much more for woman like Roxanne. She's is pleasantly plump for my rich Arab customers. Yes, I figure out that I could make lot of money selling her. Nothing personal, Daniel. Just business. You understand, right?"

"Please...let...her...go, Vladimir," he said with emphasis. "She doesn't deserve what is going to happen to her. She doesn't need to know about me being there when her brother died. I didn't kill him, his grandfather did. If I could have saved him and his wife, I would have. If I would have intervened, I would be dead also. You know that. I love her and I don't want to see her getting hurt."

"You think I care?" His voice had become calm. "I care not if you love her or that you marry her. If you married her. What I care about is making money. More the better. I have buyers waiting to have look at her lovely, plump body that I have enjoyed so much."

"I'll give you double," Daniel offered in desperation. "I have enough money."

"Even if you give me double, Daniel, I can get more if I keep her and let my Arab customers use her lovely body."

"You greedy son-of-a-bitch. I'll give you triple."

"No deal. I rather tell on you so she forget about your betrayal."

"You are a dead man, Vladimir," Daniel shouted in fury. "I'll hunt you down and execute you myself you fucking animal. I promise that I'll find you."

"Good luck," Vladimir said, and hung up.

Daniel knew that Vladimir would most likely head to Tropojë. It was a very bad part of northeast Albania. Human smugglers from there were especially brutal. And if he'd run into anyone from there, he was going to kill them, no doubt about it. For the misery they caused countless girls and women, men like them didn't deserve to live.

It was simple to play weak and helpless when you were puking your guts out on a cold steel floor. Whatever had been used to knock her out had a brief but nasty effect on her stomach. And whoever had done it had bound her wrists and ankles with rope, connecting them with a string of another strand that wasn't long enough for comfort, forcing her to keep her hands between her knees even while she was sprawled on the floor. It made being sick pretty darn awkward.

She'd wiggled some distance away from the smelly mess on the floor. She was still bleary-eyed and groggy when Vladimir crouched in front of her, holding a cell phone in his hand. He was speaking to her, but she could barely hear him as she struggled to clear her head. She blinked as he talked, trying to make her eyes focus. Where was she? A dark doorway loomed to her left and a long hallway lay behind Vladimir's squatting form, a bulb on its ceiling the only source of light. "Where am I?" she mumbled.

"Never mind. Just know that you have to behave," he ordered. "If not, you will be punished."

"Why did you do this to me?" Roxanne asked.

"I am selling you," he replied calmly.

Selling her!

"Or more like renting you out to whoever has interest in you. Mostly rich Arab men from Saudia Arabia, Kuwait, Qatar, and the UAE. I'm greedy bastard who doesn't care about anyone but himself. I left Mafia to be on my own. Figure I make more money that way. You should be honored that I pick you."

She realized the dire circumstances she was in. The ropes were making it difficult to escape, though. Maybe she could get him to release her if it were something a bit more serious than asking for a drink of water.

She squirmed. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Hold it."

"No! I don't think I can."

He thought, then nudged her thigh with his foot. "You can wait. If you can't, then stand hunched over and take baby steps. Eventually you get to bathroom. Might be entertaining to watch."

That was an awkward picture. "I...and how do I do my business once I get there? You will still have to untie my hands."

He grinned leeringly. "I'll be glad to unfasten your pants for you and pull them down."

Talk about sickening. Now that she knew who he was, and what he was capable of, it was unthinkable to let him touch her. "No thanks, I think I'd rather hold it."

His smile remained. "All right, I untie you. Since we are on ship, you have nowhere to go."

Vladimir untied her and herded her toward a door. He led her to where the toilet was and pushed her in. "Do your thing. I'll wait right here."

Never before had she felt fear like this. If someone handed her a gun right now she wouldn't even hit a wall. Daniel was probably frantic right now, wondering what had happened to her. She was completely on her own.

As soon as she stepped out of the toilet, Vlad's huge hand curled around her nape. "Why don't you just let me go, please," Roxie pleaded as she was led to a room with a bed and shoved her inside.

"Not going to happen. I have plans for you. Plans that make me lots of money."

"What the heck is wrong with you?" she demanded as she tried to twist free of his tight grasp.

But his fingers pressed tighter into her soft skin and he all put picked her up, and tossed her onto a couch. "Don't even think about moving from there," he said, and went to a where a bottle of water and vodka sat and poured one glass each. She knew he had some not-so-nice plans for her.

She sat silent and waited, every second agonizing. Vlad returned to where she sat and handed her a glass.

"Drink up," he said.

She gulped down most of the water before stopping. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she watched him finish his vodka. He took the glass from her then touched her hair in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

He gave her a look that seemed...sexual. "This isn't how I wanted things to go at first, but when I thought of possibilities, I changed my mind. It was not hard decision."

Oh damn. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Her adrenaline shot up and her pulse started pounding like a jackhammer.

Despite her heightened anxiety and her increased pulse rate, the room was moving in slow motion. She tried to lift one of her arms and it felt like it was weighed down by lead.

"You drugged me again!" she accused.

"I like my women to fight. Drugging them is coward's way, but the man who wants you gets off by knowing they're helpless." He shrugged as he made his way closer to where she was wobbling precariously on the couch. "I don't mind reluctant women. Makes it more exciting when I overpower them."

"You're sick," she slurred. "All of you involved. Sick bastards."

He put his hands on her shoulders and she cringed, trying to fight him off. She was as weak as a day old kitten. He pushed her down and unbuttoned her shirt. He pulled it off her and went to work on her jeans.

"Nice lingerie," he murmured as he stared down at the pink lace bra and panties. "I'll leave them on for your first customer. He likes pink."

As he moved away she whispered brokenly, hoping a miracle would happen. "Please, please, don't do this. I don't deserve this. Please, don't rape me."

The sound of the door opening made her slowly turn her head in that direction, hoping for a miracle. But when her gaze met the lecherous gaze of someone she didn't recognize, a dark-skinned man, her heart sank and she knew there was nothing anyone could do to save her now.

There was a metallic popping sound. A moment later Roxie screamed in pain. The bastard was cutting her. Another scream. Two more screams. And then silence followed by flesh slapping flesh, and soft weeping.

The rapist let out a satisfied grunt, and then he gave her a slap. Finished, he pulled up his pants and zipped back up.

"Vlad, she's all yours," he said with a smirk. "I know she's messier that you usually like them, but I don't think you'll have any complaints. She has a very nice body. If I didn't have any urgent business to attend to, I'd take her with me. She'd make a very nice temporary plaything for me."

"No problem," Vladimir replied.

"Don't kill her, though. Make sure you keep her secure and out of sight. I have a shipment of young girls coming in tonight. Easy transaction and I make another few million."

"I'll keep her drugged enough that she wouldn't be problem."

The man left, shutting the door and leaving them alone. "Why the tears?" Vladimir asked mockingly. He's gentler than most. Maybe you'll like me better."

Roxie lay sprawled on the couch, pain shooting through her body as surely as the blade had cut into her skin. Vlad was looming over her mostly nude form but he was not smiling. He didn't like passive women, he'd said.

Well that was fine by her because the drug was wearing off and if Vlad gave her just a little more time, he was going to have one heck of a fight on his hands, because she wasn't going to lie here and take it like she'd been forced to do for the last guy.

Rage ate at her. It was eating a hole in her very soul.

There was nothing more horrific than being so helpless that she hadn't been able to move. She could barely speak. And it hadn't been enough for the bastard to just rape her. He'd gotten off on making her bleed.

The smell of her blood filled her nostrils. Smeared all over the front of her body where he made a deep cuts. He hadn't minded the mess. He'd wallowed in it like a gluttonous pig.

Vlad left the room and Roxie right away tested her ability to move. Some of the drug had worn off and she could move her arms and legs. She looked around for something, anything, she could use as a weapon. She wasn't strong enough yet to get off the couch, but she could make the bastard sorry he ever touched her.

To her surprise, the knife her rapist had used on her was within a few inches from her grasp. She leaned as far as she could, straining and reaching for the blade.

She bumped it, moving it slightly. She tried again, wincing when the edge sliced her fingertip. It was a small price to pay for getting her hands on it. She turned it so she could grasp the hilt and then she took it, transferring it to the hand closest to the inside of the couch, and then she tucked her hand between the back of the couch and her side.

Vlad returned a minute later with a cloth and a small tub of water and set about cleaning the smeared blood. First he cleaned the shallow cut at her hairline. He frowned when he realized she was still bleeding from her cuts.

He looked...angry.

"There was no point in this," he muttered. "No need to cut you at all, much less so deep. You need stitches."

"Please, Vlad," she rasped out, trying to buy time. "I'm an American citizen. I just want to go home. No one will know of this. I'll forgive and forget."

"I believe you." His lips thinned into a firm line. "But, no, daughter of pastor. I have plans for you. After I have my turn, I let you recover until you heal."

He slowly wiped most of the blood and then finally gave up. He stood, and she was disgusted to see the bulge at his groin. Despite his seeming disgust, he was certainly turned on, blood or not.

"I wanted you to be able to fight," he said in irritation. "No fun when you just lie there."

Come on, you bastard. Come and get some. You'll get your fight.

He unzipped his pants, not even bothering to remove them. He shoved them down enough and then he yanked her legs apart and was on her and inside her in a painful thrust that momentarily froze her in her shock.

"Come on, fight me," he snarled, thrusting faster, causing her breasts to move around with his powerful strokes.

"Be careful what you wish for," she hissed, reaching for the hidden knife with her left hand.

His eyes widened in shock just as she nailed him right in the jaw with enough force to break it. Pain knifed through her fingers, but she ignored it. Then she raised her right hand that was holding the knife and plunged it into his shoulder.




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 04



He cried out in pain and right away grasped her arms and reared up. Forgetting about the knife in his back, he thrust into Roxie until he achieved his climax. Right after he rolled away and slipped from inside her. She struggled upward, fighting the effects of the drugs. Her weapon was buried in Vlad's back and now she had to use her wits to escape.

Unfortunately, Vlad was an exceptionally well-built man and the knife wound wasn't serious. As Roxie struggled to run naked from the small room, he reached for her and caught her by her long hair. Dragging her back, he threw her back on the couch and grasped her tightly around her throat, but not tight enough that her air was cut off at first. "You dare try and kill me."

Pain screamed through her system and she let out a whimper. She clawed at his arms in desperation as he tightened his grip, not letting go until she passed out.

When she awoke next, Roxanne found herself still naked but not on the ship anymore. It looked like she was in a house.



Tropojë, NE Albania

A month later

The temporary wife of a Native American man, Daniel Fox, has been given to yet another man. He would just be another man, and eventual lover, to the beautiful captive for his pleasure. Not only was she an American, but she was the daughter of an Evangelical pastor from Tampa, Florida. In order to rescue her from captivity, he must use her like a sex slave in every way possible.

Roxanne Serbati had been abducted, sold into slavery by a Russian mobster, Vladimir Trakarov. He had raped her. Considering her upbringing, it was unthinkable to let anybody except Daniel into her bed. But it was too late now. All she could do was pray to God for someone to rescue her. Now she found herself in the bed of another man who meant to use her sexually. If she gave him sexual pleasure with eagerness, there was a glimmer of hope in her bleak future. Anxious to escape, she found that perhaps sexual servitude didn't have to be the prison it could be. Besides, the many times that she'd had sex, there were some men that were not rough and mean. She'd even received a valuable emerald as a gift for her obedience in allowing an Arabic man to have anal sex with her. Even though she hadn't liked it, she hadn't stopped the man from taking whatever pleasures he wanted from her. The circumstances she was in, didn't allow her to resist in any way. Resistance only meant more discomfort for her. So she let whatever the men wanted from her sexually, happen.

Sleep overtook her the moment she lay on her bed. She dreamed of her half-Indian husband, Daniel. She dreamed that they were together again, that he had rescued her and they were back home in the South Carolina swamp.

Moscow

"What kind of help you need, Mr. Fox?" Dmitri asked.

"Despite my martial arts training, I need to hire two men to help me find my wife. She was taken by Vladimir Trakarov, which I thought was a friend of mine. But he was in fact a member of the Russian mafia who betrayed me. He called me to meet him at a bar in Cefalù, but he didn't show. It had been a ruse to get me away from her. He kidnapped her and sold her to Albanian slave traders from Tropojë and forced to service men if they'd express an interest in her."

"And how would you know that?"

"She phoned me from Moscow. She was given a cell phone by one of her...clients. He also confirmed it. She begged to use his phone. I guess he sympathized with her."

"What is her name? I see what I can find out."

"Roxanne Serbati."

"Italian." Dmitri smiled. "She is pretty, yes?"

"Yes, she is." Daniel smiled back. "When I have a bad day, she makes me feel...happy. I never thought that I'd ever fall in love, but she proved me wrong. Since she's been gone, I feel lonely and sad. I miss her terribly."

"When you get married?" Dmitri asked.

"We got married last month."

"Sexy?"

His smile slipped. "Yes."

Dmitri looked at the ceiling, deep in thought, and didn't notice Daniel's discomfort. "Sicilian? Northern Italy? Long blonde hair?"

"No. She was born in Florida. Long hair, yes, but not blonde. Raven."

He clucked his tongue. "Too bad."

"It works for me."

Dmitri's laugh nearly made Daniel jump. "That's all that matters, yes?" A punch landed on his shoulder. "Yes," Dmitri answered his own question. "Now, we talk details. You tell me what you need. We catch little bastard who has your woman and teach him lesson, so I can meet your woman."

Daniel exhaled, releasing the tension that had built up. "Yes! First you catch whoever has Roxanne. Then..." God help them "...you meet her. And, Dmitri, Vladimir is not an easy adversary, so be careful."

"Leonid and Ljubomir would be able to help you. Ljubomir is very efficient in Svebor and Realnog Aikidoa. Leonid is former Russian special forces and an expert in Sambo, R.O.S.S., Buza, and Systema. What do you practice?"

"Krav Maga and Aikido."

"Not bad. Together you can be unbeatable. But if I join, we can be even better."

"What about you? What do you practice?"

"Khridoli and Sambo."

"I thought Khridoli was not practiced anymore."

"That's true, but I do. My mother was prostitute from T'bilisi. My father was Russian soldier. I'm half Georgian. Going back some thirty-five hundred years, Georgian warriors have long tradition of fighting, and experts belief that over thirty forms of wrestling and boxing were practiced in Georgia. As country found itself on near-constant military alert throughout the centuries, the highly respected art of the warriors was considered central to the civilization's survival. The Russian occupation of Georgia in 1921 saw decline in native martial arts, and Sambo became the art of choice for many interested in learning the fighting arts." Dmitri went around the counter and settled his huge bulk on a barstool. "So why you never come see me, Daniel?"

"Things came up. Too busy. And you were in prison."

"Pffft." Dmitri waved off his prison sentence like it was nothing. "A few months. No problem. No one bothered me after I show them I can take care of myself."

Daniel nodded. "I'm an honest man, a law-abiding citizen who mostly works as a bodyguard."

"And you have no friends here anymore?"

He shifted uncomfortably but didn't look away. He'd never lied to Dmitri, and wouldn't now. "You are a friend," he said, meaning it. "But not the kind I can afford to have. If the police find out that I was here, it's not good for either of us."

Dmitri shrugged. "Police don't bother me. I'm honest citizen, too. I'm struggling club owner." He grinned. "Like you, eh?"

"Dmitri, my other business doesn't hide behind my legit one."

The big Russian nodded. "So you want my help in rescuing your bride from nightclub here in Moscow?"

"Please. And I'm sure she'll be moved to somewhere else if I don't get to her in time." Dmitri's past connection to the Russian Mafia and their lucrative human smuggling business was not the best kept secret.

Dmitri laughed and reached over to punch Daniel's shoulder. "You are right! We help you." He nodded slowly. "So what you want to do? How you want to take care of Albanians?"

Daniel took a deep breath, hoping to pitch this right, or Dmitri and his men would get too carried away. "If we can find Roxanne, maybe you or one of your men could pretend to be a client of hers. And if the Albanians get in your way, feel free to kill them. The less there are, the better."

Dmitri nodded. "They could do it. But very dangerous to get involved in Mafia or with Albanian gangsters. For own safety, you will stay far away."

Daniel didn't point out that Dmitri and his two henchmen were also very dangerous. "If one of them could find her for me, they'd take her somewhere safe. There's no reason to connect me to her, or her to me. When the bad guys stop looking for her, your men take care of whatever needs to be taken care of, and my wife is out of danger, then you'll contact me."

"I do it. I can get your wife for you, but I don't know if anyone get hurt in process. Not important. Criminals are expandable. They are like bugs. I kill if they get in our way. But I especially take care of guy who kidnapped your wife."

He paused, not sure if he heard correctly. "You will? Thanks, Dmitri."

"Yes, I help you, Daniel. Me and my two...friends, will go and get your woman. That what you want, yes?"

"Yes. But...why do you agree to help me?"

Dmitri's heavy hand landed on Daniel's shoulder, drawing him closer to the counter. "Daniel, I tell you important truth. Russians very romantic people. Money, jewels, power...all good. Very good. But is nothing without love, eh?" The hand lifted from his shoulder, then hit him with a friendly slug. "You must have Russian blood, my friend. You take big risk for love."

Daniel would do anything to get Roxie safely back to him. Risk didn't factor into it.

"Just promise Dmitri one thing."

"Sure. What is it?"

"If I don't get to meet your woman when you get her back, I want to meet her."

"Okay, Dmitri."

"I arrange everything and let you know how things go."

The two men came toward him, one of them opening the door for him. Daniel was sure if he walked out alone he'd never make it his car without being tackled. The escort was for his safety.

Leaving was a relief, and not just because he had someone to find and bring Roxanne back to him. Stepping back into the world of thieves, organized crime cartels, and armed bodyguards who could kill anyone as easily as a fly felt like walking in deep mud, the smell clinging to his clothes and dirtying everything he touched. He strode across the street to the empty parking lot where he had left his rental car, intent on getting out of this part of Moscow as fast as he possibly could without it being too obvious.

A day later

Leonid and Ljubomir watched as customers began to drift into the nightclub they were checking out for any sign of Daniel's woman.

A din of conversation and music grew in the large room. "Looks like us girls are going to get laid a dozen or so times tonight," Roxie said to her only friend, Valentina. "Yes, we are going to get really used tonight."

She recognized several customers, all Eastern European, and took their usually table. But there were also two huge men that she'd never seen before. They sat in a dark corner and just sat there, seemingly enjoying their beer. They looked like men who could take care of themselves.

Leonid was just taking a swallow from his beer when a hulk filled the doorway of the nightclub.

The man's dark hair was slicked back and shiny even in the low light. His t-shirt was molded to his muscular upper body. "Oh, shit."

Ljubomir looked up when he heard Leonid mutter something.

Everything about the man spelled trouble. He crossed the floor in a lumbering gait that dared anyone to get in the way. Leonid's pulse rate picked up speed. The man went straight to where the American woman was standing behind the bar. She looked up.

"You and me will have some fun tonight!" said the man know as Ivan "the terrible" Zubov. He had once shot a young girl for resisting him. She had yelled at him, daring him to shoot her. He had taken her outside and fired four bullets into her. The bullets had penetrated the right half of her rib cage, abdomen, lungs, and left thigh as she crumbled to the pavement, and soon she was dead. The young girl had been one of many victims of brutal men involved in the sex trafficking industry.

Leonid could be a brutal man, but he could also be a gentle lover, depending on the circumstances. He lifted himself off his seat, intending on going to Daniel's wife's defense. Defending women from men like this guy, was deeply ingrained in him. Ljubomir's hand closed on his wrist, stopping him from getting into a fight here, instead of away from a less public place. "Wait, Leonid. I don't think he's going to try anything here. We wait until she goes to room with him. I'm sure she can handle him herself."

Roxanne stared him straight in the eye, bravely standing her ground in the face of evil. "In your dreams." Her voice carried across the space that separated the bar and their table. Leonid heard the tremor in her voice. She was afraid or nervous, maybe both. "Get out of here, my friend," he told Ljubomir. "I see what I can find out. Wait outside in car and watch for trouble." He stood up, carrying his empty glass toward the bar as if to get a refill.

"I try be nice to you," Ivan growled. "You want me to use force like last time? Or drug you and have my way with you? You got it. This time I got something that teach you lesson." He pulled out brass knuckles and shook his fist at her. "See this? You will not be pretty anymore if my fist smashes your face in."

Roxanne stood her ground, staring up at him, not flinching even when he pushed his face within inches of hers.

"No girl wants to be in your bed, Ivan, but if you touch me only once, you'll regret it. Other than keeping your hands off me, do what you want, but leave me and my friend alone." She moved to stand away from him and faced him."

"But what I want includes you, American whore," Ivan said in a low voice.

Leonid's adrenaline surged and he started to move toward where Ivan faced the stubborn, but brave woman. A few people on stools stood up and backed away.

"Valentina, call the police," Roxanne said.

Eyes filled with fear, Valentina reached for the phone, but before she could dial the number, Ivan pointed a finger at her. "Valentina." His deep voice boomed. "You better put phone back, or you get same treatment as her. This not concern you."

Leonid watched as Valentina replaced the phone to its cradle. An image of the big gangster slamming a brass-knuckled fist into her pretty face flashed in his mind.

"You better leave her alone," Roxanne's tone sounded serious. "You touch her, you'll get your due. I warn you, Ivan. I might be afraid of you, but I'll still go against you."

God help her. Leonid couldn't believe the small American woman had threatened the big man. Ivan's eyes darted. He seemed to be looking for something to throw. Leonid lunged, but before he could reach him, Ivan's hand shot out and jerked Roxanne forward by the neck. She fought back, slapping at his wrist and face.

The sickening thud of a blow was heard. Roxanne stumbled backward. The next sound was the unmistakable click of a firearm. By the time Leonid saw the scene clearly before him, the woman was backed against the backbar, shaking. She had a Makarov pistol aimed right at Ivan's head. The gun was designed by Nikolay Makarov. It fired eight, nine by eighteen millimeter cartridges from a detachable box magazine. It was effective up to fifty meters, and had a velocity of three hundred fifteen meters per second.

Damn!

Blood trailed from a cut to her right cheek, just under her eye. There was already a bruise developing, but her gaze was locked on Ivan.

Leonid's senses heightened and intensified. His mind and body gave in to the years of training and experience. He stepped closer, feeling as if was going to kill Ivan himself.

"Roxanne, listen to me. Daniel is here for you. Put down gun."

She didn't respond, didn't take her eyes off her attacker. A bright trail of red ran down her cheek, down to her quivering chin and dripped onto her skimpy top.

Leonid watched Ivan's pale face from the corner of his eye. "Roxanne! Listen to me. I'm on your side. Let me help you. I will not hurt you. Daniel is here."

Except for her shaking hand, there was no reaction even to her husband's name.

"This bastard not worth getting yourself into Russian prison. Put gun down." Seconds turn into a minute. "Please," he said softly. "Think about future with Daniel. He is here for you. You can go home with him."

Finally Daniel's name got through to her. "Daniel is here?" she whispered. Despite her unsteady hand, she lowered the gun, but continued to stare at Ivan. The blood continued to drip from her chin onto her top. She made no move to wipe it away.

Though her eyes stared, she appeared to see nothing. The gun hung from her hand beside her right thigh. Leonid grasped her wrist with his right hand and the gun with his left. "Let go of gun. Everything okay now."

Roxanne relaxed her hand and he took the handgun. He ejected the clip and set it down on the bar's counter top, then stuffed the gun into his waistband.

Valentina was slumped against the backbar, shaking her head. A sob burst out and tears streamed. "Valentina," Roxanne said, "it's okay."

"You damn whore." Ivan's booming voice split the air. His eyes glittered and he shook his clenched fist. "I'm going to..."

"Hey!" Leonid was on him in an instant, reaching across the bar and filling his fist with the gangster's shirt. Ivan swung, but Leonid parried and grasped his throat with a fierce grip, fighting the urge to choke the life from the abuser of women. He yanked him forward until they were nose to nose across the bar. "You are pressing your luck. Get out of here before we both do something we regret."

Ivan's hand flew to Leonid's wrist. He wheezed. Leonid glared into his eyes for long seconds, then let go.

The Russian gangster staggered back, coughing, his hands bracketing his throat. Pure hatred burned in his eyes. He twisted and adjusted his neck, and shrugged his shoulders. He stomped toward the door, but stopped before opening it and shook his fist. "You American whore!" He yanked the door open. It banged the wall as he made his exit. "You are going to regret this."

Leonid turned to Roxanne. She was still braced against the back counter, her fingers curled tightly around the edge. A bloodstain had spread on the front of her tight, skimpy top, and the top curves of her breasts. She pushed away and strode past Leonid and the staring crowd of leering men, making for the ladies' room. Voices in the bar rose to a crescendo.

When she returned, her face was clean, but she held a cloth to her cheek. Her left eye had already become a slit. She reached behind the bar for her purse. Without a look left or right, she strode the length of the room and left through the front door.

Leonid followed her. He went outside and swore. He could have hurt her bad. Or she could have killed him. He scanned both sides of the street. Where could she have gone so fast?

A block down the street, he found her around the corner of a building. He hurried to her side and found her crying. Her hand was shaking badly, her teeth were chattering. He couldn't tell if she was cold or in shock. He looped his right arm around her shoulders. "Let me carry you." He was sure she would have collapsed soon. "I take you to Daniel." He carried her. Her head lolled twice and rested on his shoulder. When he got to his car, he set her on her feet. Holding her waist, he slid his left arm beneath her knees and lifted her onto the seat.

Roxanne would be missed by the club owner, but by then he would have her at a safe place.

He took away the bloody cloth from her cheek. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. He threw the cloth onto the seat beside her. Her forehead was beaded with perspiration. He reached for her wrist and felt her pulse. It was racing faster than he could count, but was probably slower than it had been a few minutes earlier.

"You going to be okay," he told her. "Relax."

He closed the door and rounded the vehicle to the driver's side, looking for the man who had punched her. As he got behind the wheel, Roxanne's head rolled back against the headrest. He reached across her for the seatbelt, brushing his forearm against her breasts accidentally. He pulled the seat belt across her body and locked it in place. He couldn't stop his gaze from going to her breasts. They were large, but they suited her perfectly.

He started up the car, eased onto the street and drove west, away from downtown Moscow, debating whether or not if he should take her to a hospital. An hour later, he was at the place where he was supposed to meet up with Ljubomir and Daniel. From what he could see, they weren't here yet. He carried her into the house, which put them first in the hallway. To the left was the kitchen, but across the hall was a doorway through which he could see a large bed. He carried her in and set her on the edge of the bed. Then he went into the washroom for a washcloth. When he found one, he soaked it with warm water, knelt beside the bed and she allowed him to bathe dried blood from her face. She winced as he brushed her cut and he apologized.




Italian Rhapsody Ch. 04



Taking her chin in his thick fingers, he gently examined her eye and her cut, swollen and bruised cheek. The cheek had absorbed the brunt of the blow. While she was cut, and the skin around her eye was turning darker, the eye itself didn't appear damaged. He had seen much worse. "That son-of-bitch," he muttered. "I should have killed him."

It was then that he saw a long scar that began at her forehead and followed her hairline down the side of her head until it disappeared above her ear. Her hair kept it hidden. "Assaulted, drugged, raped, and cut," she simply said. "A month ago. I have more on my legs and stomach."

This was not his business. He placed his fingers under her chin and tipped her head backward. Her lips were quivering and she whimpered like a child. Leonid wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but he stifled the urge. Instead, he cupped her nape in his large palm and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "I don't think anything broken, but you will have big bruise. Too bad there is no ice."

He made a move to clean the blood from her upper chest with the washcloth, but decided against it. "How about clean shirt or something?" he said, handing her the washcloth.

The bloodstained top was skimpy. She looked down at it and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Hey. Don't cry. It all over." Swallowing, he kept his voice gentle. "I get you something better to wear." There was a man's robe hanging on the door to the shower room. He went for it and handed it to her.

Her chin trembled and more tears leaked, but she didn't break down. He called Ivan a few more curse words to himself, and as if she were a child, he helped her to undress. Standing behind her, he undid her bra, then eased the bloody garment off her. Much taller than she was, he looked down and saw the gentle slopes of her breasts. For a moment he thought about reaching around and cupping them in his palms and weighing them, but decided that it was not a good idea. This woman was Daniel's wife. He forced himself to look away from her breasts and placed the robe around her shoulders. "How you feeling? Do you want me to go?"

"I...I... No, you can stay. I...I don't want to be alone."

"Sure." She looked vulnerable. He sat down beside her and hooked his huge, muscled arm around her shoulder, then gave in to the urges and hugged her to his chest.

"I am sorry this has happened to you. What can I do?"

"I'm thirsty. Do you have a soda or water?"

"I go check." Leonid left her and went to the kitchen. He didn't find any soda, but there was water. He saw that there was a little food. He guessed that Ljubomir probably brought it here earlier and left. Returning, he sat beside her again and handed her the glass, watched as she sipped and winced.

"I think I need to lie down," she said.

He thought so, too, and he wanted to lie down beside her and hold her. "You want me to go?"

Roxanne shook her head. "I want you to stay and hold me," she told him, gazing into his eyes. "But that is not a good idea."

Leonid stared back. Her eyes were lovely, but one was almost swollen shut. Her expression was soft and feminine. He felt himself getting aroused. He didn't know if it was just the adrenaline still coursing through him or because he was just aroused and he wanted her, Daniel's wife or not.

She reached for his hand. "I...I... Thank you for helping me."

"No problem."

Leonid left and she was all alone. She curled herself up in a fetal position and fell asleep.

She dreamed vividly of Daniel. It was as if it were real. They reached for each other simultaneously. Her arms slid around his ribs and up until she clung to his incredibly wide shoulders and her forehead pressed into his equally incredible chest.

Cupping her shoulders, he pulled her up, brought her with him as he leaned back to rest his head on the bed's large pillow. She nestled between his legs, her head on his huge chest.

"Rest now," he murmured in his deep voice. "I'm here now to protect you. Everything will be okay."

She snuggled against his chest like a child and let out a deep sigh. He folded his huge arms around her.

Daniel awoke. He was confused for a moment. There was a weight on his chest. He attempted to stretch his arm without disturbing the disheveled raven head on his chest.

As Roxanne moved against him, he felt himself getting an erection. Normally, when he awoke in this condition, belly-to-belly with an attractive woman, he knew what to do next. His wife must have felt his erection because she stirred and rolled onto her side abruptly. Her robe parted, baring her magnificent breasts. Her nipples were small and erect. Her lovely, perfect breasts were just...perfect.

She kept her eyes closed. She was aroused. She wanted more. She was married to Daniel, but that would probably be terminated because of what had happened to her. What man wanted an abused woman for a wife? For her to welcome Leonid as she intended, then snuggled against him all night, she had to have wanted someone. Don't be a fool, she warned herself, but still did not cover herself up. She needed to have good sex. The kind that would drive what she'd experienced from her mind, if that was at all possible. Leonid was here, Daniel was not. What was one more man? If the sex would be any good, it would only be her second great experience when it came to sex. The first great sexual experience of her life had been with Daniel. But for now she needed more rest. She fell asleep

For over an hour he lay beside Roxanne, wondering about her experiences in captivity. For the first time in his life, he prayed. He'd been taught to believe only in science and that people who believed in a higher power were people who needed a crutch. There was no such a thing as God, or a Savior, or even a way of life that was about anything other than living for pleasure and doing whatever one wanted. He'd been indoctrinated since he was a boy into the belief that those who had mercy and compassion were soft.

Roxanne nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a big muscular arm fall across her stomach. Someone stirred beside her. His arm was like steel around her waist, gathering her close. Thinking it was Leonid, she turned her tear streaked face against his chest. She wanted to raise her eyes to his and gently tell him that he had to leave before she made the mistake of doing something she'd regret later. Just because numerous men, albeit reluctantly, had been with her while in captivity, didn't mean it was okay to have another one. Opening her eyes slowly, she noticed that the body laying beside her was familiar to her. Her heart started to pound. It was Daniel's body laying beside her, not Leonid's.

"Daniel?" she whispered. "You are here. Praise God you are here." She wrapped herself around his big body. It felt so amazing to be in his arms.

With his body wrapped in her arms and legs, he ran his hands over her curvy body to assure himself that she was here, that they were finally reunited. "You are amazing woman." She had great courage. She humbled him. To endure the things she'd endured in her captivity, to stand there and face Ivan and what he meant to do to her...and maybe more...it was almost more than he could comprehend.

He suddenly stiffened. "You are crying. Ivan is gone now. You are safe. Safe with me." He wrapped his huge arms protectively around her, feeling her tremors, the tear-wet face against his bare chest. His fingers combed through her thick hair as he dragged her as close as he could get her, trying to let her know that she was loved and cherished. "I'm sorry for all the trouble you went through. They put you through hell and I wasn't there for you. Soon we can go home. Stop crying, my love." His hands stroked caresses in her hair. He rained kisses over her face and licked at the tears in an effort to stop them. "I'll protect you from now on."

"You are here, Daniel. Where is Leonid? I want to thank him. He helped me when I most needed it. If it weren't for him, I'd have shot Ivan. I could be in a Russian prison right now." Now that she was safe, she should have been able to stop crying, but somehow, the floodgates opened and she cried harder, alternating between hiccupping and sobbing, clinging to him like a child.

Daniel brushed more kisses over the top of her head and down her face. His teeth scraped her chin, and then he was kissing the corners of her lush mouth. His thumbs brushed at her tears. She tried hard to regain control of her tears. She took several deep breaths to calm down. She tilted her head enough to look up at him, his face barely visible in the dark.

He thought about the decision of having Ivan killed. He'd wanted him dead. He couldn't live with the fact that if he'd let the bastard live, he and Roxie wouldn't be safe. Especially Roxie. She wasn't safe until they both were on a plane back to the States.

"I'm just grateful that he helped me. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't," she said in a shaky voice. Her shaking fingers stroked his hair, an unconscious caress. She buried her face against the warmth of his neck.

Daniel brushed a kiss against the silky strands of hair on top of her head. He'd never felt so emotional in his life. It was scary how this woman made him feel so much. He had been careful all his life never to get emotionally involved with women, and yet she'd wrapped him up so tight he could barely breathe, and he had no idea how that had happened, or even when.

She reached up to trace his lips with the pad of her index finger.

"I don't want you to get ideas about me," he said in a quiet voice.

She smiled in the darkness. Fine with her. All she wanted was great sex from her husband. He was an amazing lover.

"I feel jealous. I know Leonid only rescued you, but the thought of another man touching you makes me crazy." He squeezed his eyes shut. He wrapped one arm around her and grasped the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest so she could look at him. He looked her in the eye.

Roxanne squirmed out from under his arm and brushed kisses along the underside of his stubbly jaw.

He groaned deeply. "Sweetie, I still feel you are deceiving yourself. I'm not a good man. Since I met you, I wish I was a better man. I've done bad things in my life, and will do again. I want to kill everyone involved in your kidnapping and abuse, maybe someday I will."

"I think I've wanted to do this ever since the first time I saw you when you came to see me in Florida." She bent her head and kissed him, her lips satin soft against his hard lips.

"Kiss me, Daniel."

His mouth covered hers, warm and sweet. He raised one hand up to her face to cup her cheek as he deepened his kiss. His tongue dueled with hers. His fingers dug into her thick hair, around to the back of her head and then down to her name.

"Make love to me, husband."

He pulled back in surprise, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"I don't want to push you into anything, Roxie. It's probably better if we wait until you're ready."

"I'm ready," she said, plunging ahead nonetheless. "I want this. I want you."

He stared at her for a long moment as if he couldn't make up his mind. She pulled him down into a long kiss, this time making sure she was the aggressor.

When he pulled back, his breath came in ragged bursts. His chest heaved and it was clear he was battling his urges to give in.

"Make me feel all better," she said.

"Damn, sweetie. Are you sure? This is too important. I don't want to fu... I mean, I don't want to mess this up."

She stroked his jaw with her hand. "Please, Daniel."

It was the please that did it. "We have to be slow. You could..."

She wanted him close. Wanted to replace the memory of Vladimir and the other rapist who had cut her, with Daniel. Just Daniel. He'd chase away her demons. She was sure of that.

He slowly pulled off her robe. His fingers grazed her skin, setting fire to her senses. Goose bumps danced across her thighs and midriff when his hands glided back up her bare legs and up her back.

She trembled as shadows lurked in her mind. She forced her attention to Daniel, refusing to allow anything to ruin this moment. But even so, a chill settled over her.

Her scars were there for him to see, and they were still raw looking. Ugly. Marks put there by another man.

"Tell me what you want, Roxie. You're calling the shots here. Tell me how to please you."

"I'm cold," she whispered. "Make me warm, Daniel. Please take away the cold."

He stripped out of his clothing and carefully lowered his body to hers. He stroked her hair away from her face and kissed her, long and slowly.

He broke away from her mouth and pressed gentle kisses from her lips down her jaw line and to the sensitive area beneath her ear, more goose bumps rose up, but this time she didn't feel the same chill as before.

His warmth seeped into her, soothing away her fears and giving her soul deep comfort.

Holding her tightly to him, he rolled so they were laying on their sides. His hand smoothed down her arm all the way to her fingertips and then on to her hip before slowly gliding upwards again, this time going underneath her arm, over the curve of her waist and to her breast.

His pace was slow and leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. He seemed determined not to rush her, and she realized for the first time how hard her rape had to have been for him as well.

Even now, despite the slow pace he'd set, his jaw was tight, and she could tell it was difficult for him to go this slow and to be this patient. In that moment, she fell even more in love with him then she was already.

"Kiss me," she whispered. "Make love to me."

Daniel groaned as his lips melted over hers. Their tongues met and dueled. Hot and wet. Breathless and needy.

His hand moved downward, between her legs, sliding through her moistness, teasing and caressing in gentle strokes.

"We have all night, love," he murmured. "Let's not rush. I want to make sure you're with me every step of the way."

She sighed and snuggled closer to him, wanting and needing that flesh-to-flesh contact. She slid her leg over his. Nothing was going to ruin this moment for her.

He made it his goal to touch every inch of her skin. No part of her body went untouched. He licked and kissed his way from her toes all the way to her eyelids. He gave extra attention to her breasts, teasing and toying with the nipples until they were straining upward, begging for more.

But it was when he traced the lines of each of her scars and then followed his fingers with his mouth, lovingly kissing every puckered inch of the wounds, that her heart squeezed and she found it hard to breathe.

He was telling her without words that her scars meant nothing to him. He didn't shy away from them. Didn't recoil from their ugliness. He made certain there was no doubt in her mind that he accepted every single part of her.

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to let go of the grief that had plagued her for so long. She felt safe with Daniel. Her pillar. Her shelter. The one person she could turn to and he'd never think her weak.

His palm glided warmly over her body. His fingers stroked and his mouth made love to her all on its own.

She was mindless with need, and pleasure was like molten lava in her veins. More potent than the strongest drug.

She was in a haze, her surroundings blurred. She felt her legs being parted, and protested the movement. Then a hard body covered hers and panic shot through her consciousness, bringing a sudden halt to every pleasurable sensation she'd been fully immersed in.

She reacted blindly, desperate to defend herself. She'd never allow anyone to hurt her that way again. A sob escaped, loud in her ear. She fought desperately. She rolled, trying to get away, and she fell to the floor, the blanket from the bed tangled around her feet. She nearly passed out from the fear. Or maybe she had.

It was like she was two very different people. One who embraced the idea of making love to her husband as if nothing had happened to her...one rooted in denial...and the other? Still trapped on that couch on the ship, powerless against the effects of the drug while two men raped her body and mind.

And the one winning the battle for self-preservation was that terrified, brutalized victim that she'd tried to forget existed.

When some of the overwhelming panic dissipated and she became aware of her surroundings once more, she was sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped protectively around her body as she rocked back and forth. Tears were streaming down her face and she was helpless to stop them.

Oh Lord. What had she done?

A blanket fell over her shoulders and was pulled tightly round her until she was covered. Eventually some of the awful shaking stopped and warmth began to seep back into her body.

Roxanne was lifted, cradled against a hard chest and then set on the edge of the bed, that blanket still wrapped tightly around her.

"Roxie, baby, it's all right. You're safe. Nobody can hurt you here. It's Daniel. Okay? Open your eyes. Look at me, sweetie. Look at me so I know you're all right."

She blinked and then tried to focus on his face. He was kneeling in front of her, and she could barely make out his features for the tears clouding her vision.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed out.

"Oh baby. Don't apologize. Never that."

Daniel moved to sit beside her on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She burrowed tightly against him, seeking more of his warmth. She pressed her face into his neck and closed her eyes. She wanted to die. She was horrified by what had happened. One minute she'd been wrapped up in the beauty of their lovemaking and the next she'd been completely freaked out.

She clung to him, humiliated by the tears that wouldn't end. She was shaking from head to toe, and the memory of that night was so vivid in her mind that no amount of wishing would make it go away. She could still smell her own blood, remember how it felt, slick and sticky against her. She started to hyperventilate, and Daniel held her tighter.

"Deep breaths, Roxie. In and out. Real slow. Come on. Breathe with me."

He pulled her away so she was forced to look at him, and he stared intently, mimicking the inhaling and exhaling he wanted her to do.

"Tell me if you're going to be sick. I'll take you to the bathroom."

She shook her head, determined not to let herself lose more control than she already had. Gradually her pulse slowed and her breathing steadied. The shaking stopped and the panic eased. The images faded into the shadows and the smell of blood left her. But the tears kept coming, trickling down her cheeks as she stared numbly at Daniel.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Because what else was there for her to say? What guy wanted to have sex interrupted by a major meltdown and then have to ask the woman if she needed to be sick?

And she'd been the one who'd pushed for sex! He'd wanted to waited. He hadn't thought she was ready. He'd wanted to take things slow. She'd been so sure. But it was just more of her refusal to accept what had been done to her. If she didn't think about it, then it didn't exist. Only now, the past had come back to bite her on the backside in a major way.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry for ruining this."

He looked mad, and he shook his head emphatically. "You aren't apologizing. I knew you weren't ready for this and I should have put a stop to it. I'm a complete ass for even thinking about making love to you so soon after what happened."

She shook her head just as emphatically. "No. I thought I was ready. I mean, I was. I don't know what happened. I wanted it, Daniel. I wasn't scared. I was right there with you and then, out of nowhere, panic. Oh my God, the panic was paralyzing and all I could see was them and I even smelled my blood. I felt it. Sticky and wet on my skin. How it felt when he moved on top of me, smearing it with his own body."




Italian Rhapsody



Damn it all, he cursed under his breath. Get yourself under control, he warned himself. You don't really want this woman. She's not your type. You can live six weeks without having sex. You won't have any trouble finding a willing woman in Sicily. Cefalù had an abundance of stunning Latin beauties. He'd had his share of them when he was there working undercover.

A few hours later, he entered her room, eying the rumpled covers on the bed, imagining himself and Roxie between them. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. I was restless."

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"I had too much on my mind."

"Not having second thoughts about our deal, are you?" He wished she would move over a couple of feet and get out of the direct line of lamplight that silhouetted her form through her modest-but-thin cotton gown. He could see every round, luscious inch of her body. The contours of her broad hips. The curve of her firm, womanly rear end. The ripe swell of her full breasts. The outline of her shapely legs.

"Second thoughts?" Roxie's breath caught in her throat. Moisture coated the palms of her unsteady hands.

Her heartbeat thumped a little too loudly in her ears. She wanted him to leave, to go back to his room and out of her sight. She wasn't used to having a man in her bedroom at night, with her wearing nothing but a gown. Actually, she wasn't used to a man being in her bedroom at all. And to make matters worse, Daniel Fox wasn't just any man. He was overwhelmingly, dangerously attractive in the most basic, primitive way a man could be. He stood there, only a few steps away from her, his feet bare, his unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely around his hips, and a thick strand of his long, black hair falling over his shoulder, the tips brushing one tiny male nipple. Roxie deliberately avoided looking any lower than his waist or higher than his knees. She couldn't ogle this man simply because he was a good-looking Native American, most likely Cherokee. A pink flush rose up her neck and onto her face. Turning from him, she glanced away, out the windows, hoping he wouldn't notice her embarrassment. She didn't want him to think she was interested in him; in a sexual way. She wasn't. But if he thought she was, he would probably laugh in her face. A man like Daniel wouldn't want a woman like her any more than she wanted him. If ever two people were from different worlds, with opposing sets of morals and life-styles, those two people were Daniel Fox and herself.

Roxie heard his footsteps on the wooden floor as he walked up behind her. She drew in a deep, calming breath and held it. Please, dear God, don't let him touch me.

"There's no need for you to put yourself through weeks of torture, when we both know I can't whip you into shape, into fighting form, in six weeks." He gripped her shoulder, then wished he hadn't. Her skin was silky soft yet youthfully firm. Being this close, he could smell not only the flowery scent of the toiletries she'd used, but the sweet, inviting aroma of the woman herself. "I can put you on a bus or a plane for Tampa tomorrow," he told her. "And I can be in Palermo by tomorrow night."

Roxie tensed. His hand was big, hard, and warm, and although his touch was gentle, she sensed the lethal power in his grip. This man probably could break her in two with very little effort. She didn't doubt that he was capable of snapping her neck like a twig. But the fear she felt when his flesh touched hers was not fear for her physical safety, but a deep, primordial, woman's fear of man. He could take her if he wanted and she would be powerless to stop him. And she had to admit that the thought that she might not want to stop him was what scared her more than anything. She pulled away from him, moving directly in front of the big windows that overlooked the swamp. "Are you trying to back out of our deal, Mr. Fox?"

"No, I'm not trying to back out," he said. "I'm just giving you a chance to change your mind before we waste both your time and mine."

She gazed out the windows at the barely visible trees of the swamp, illuminated by only the faint glimmer of pale moonlight.

"You promised me that if I could survive six weeks of training, you'd take me with you." She squared her shoulders and turned to face him. "I have to go, so I will find a way to survive the next forty or so days. No matter what you put me through, I won't give up. If you think that just because my body isn't sleek and lean and toned to perfection, I'm going to fail your fitness test, then think again. When a person wants something as badly as I want to get to Sicily to get Carlo, she will do whatever is necessary."

"If all you needed was stubbornness and determination, then you'd be prepared right now. But it's going to take physical stamina to swim ashore at night. And depending on what we find when we eventually get to Cefalù, we could well end up on foot, climbing up the mountain or just running for our lives in some out-of-the-way village."

She pointed her index finger at him. "I'll diet, I'll exercise, I'll follow every one of your commands in order to get in shape. All I want is for you to keep your promise to me."

"It would be so much easier if you'd let me go to Palermo and get your nephew. You wouldn't have to risk your life, or maybe my life, if you screw up."

"I have to go with you. I...You don't understand how I feel," she told him. "Pierfrancesco and Mariana would want me to keep Carlo safe. Now he's with an evil criminal who wants him to grow up and be like him. I will not let that...animal have him. I have to be the one to rescue him. I have to..." Her voice cracked with emotion. She swallowed the unshed tears trapped in her throat.

There was no way he was letting this woman near her grandfather. He would kill her without a second thought.

Grasping her shoulders, Daniel forced her to face him.

She lifted her chin and glared defiantly into his dark eyes. What would he say if she'd tell him that she would even let him sleep with her if he would help her? There was no way she wanted to let any man into her bed. It would be wrong and it went against everything she believed in, but it would be for a good cause.

He tightened his hold on her and drew her closer, looking down into her beautiful face. She glared at him boldly. Suddenly he noticed that the eyes he'd thought an ordinary green were, in reality, a color green as brilliant and bright as the green waters of some cold mountain lake.

"I've known some stubborn women in my time, lady, but you take the title."

Her chin quivered. Her eyes misted. Damn it, she was going to cry. He hated weepy females. He couldn't tolerate tears. Other men might hang around and put up with a blubbering woman, but he made sure his relationships were so brief that a woman didn't have time to get emotional on him. The few times he'd been caught off guard by a woman's tears, he had walked away. He'd never cared enough to stay except to get sexual gratification from her. That's why he liked sex with Alexandra. Sex with her was intense and she knew what to expect from him. No strings attached. Just pure animal sex.

Roxie clenched her teeth, refusing to give in to the tears threatening to reveal her weakness to Daniel. Why was he looking at her like that? As if he wanted to strangle her and kiss her at the same time? A tear dropped from her eye and trickled down her cheek. She bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to control the feelings raging inside her. Gazing at him, her eyes questioned him.

He loosened his tight hold on her shoulders, but did not release her. Instead he slid his hands down her arms to her wrists and slowly eased upward again, stopping at her elbows. When she sucked in her breath, he released her. A second tear cascaded down her cheek. Reaching out, he wiped the moisture from her face with a thumb.

She gasped. Involuntarily, their bodies swayed toward each other. The magical moment enveloped them in its spell, drawing them closer and closer. Almost touching. A hairbreadth separating their straining bodies.

Roxie had never felt anything so powerful, so absolutely compelling. She could not look away, could not break the hypnotizing eye contact with Daniel. His intense gaze devoured her, consuming her with its heat.

Daniel wanted to pull this woman into his arms and drink his fill of her sweetness. He wanted to lay her down in the big, soft bed and take her with all the wild passion that was riding him so hard.

"Daniel?" Why she had used his given name, she would never know. It was as if she had known this man forever, since the dawn of time. As if his name had been the last name on her lips in lifetime after lifetime.

He forced himself to break the spell, to release them both from the enchantment of the moment.

What the hell was going on? What was happening to him? He stepped backward, putting some distance between Roxie and him. Then he glanced away from her. Get the hell out of here now, he told himself. Turning around, he rushed toward the door, not pausing a second in his flight from her room. During his hasty departure, he mumbled, "Good night, belladonna."

He had said it again. For several seconds, Roxie stood frozen to the spot, unable to move until she heard Daniel slam her bedroom door in his abrupt departure. Finally she willed herself to move. She walked slowly over to the bed and sat down, then grabbed a feather pillow. Curling into a ball, she clutched the pillow to her stomach and cried silently, not quite sure exactly why her heart was breaking. Maybe it was because of her brother and his sweet wife's untimely, senseless deaths.

Down the hall, Daniel stormed into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower. Stepping beneath the cold spray, he threw back his head and allowed the water to drench him thoroughly. He was hot, hard, and aching. He hadn't wanted sex this badly since he'd been a teenager and unable to control his raging hormones. He had no idea what had just happened between Roxie and him. All he knew was that it had scared the hell out of him, that he couldn't get away from her fast enough, and that he didn't dare let it happen again.

Tears didn't affect him. Not anyone's tears; man's, woman's or child's. And yet Roxie's tears had gotten to him. When he'd seen those tears falling down her cheek, all he'd been able to think about was wiping them away; of comforting her. He neither gave comfort nor accepted it. Not in the past. Not in the present. And not in the future. Roxie Serbati didn't mean anything to him. And she never would. Hell, just because he wanted to take her to bed, didn't mean he cared about her. As the water covered his body in prickling rivulets, he tried to erase her from his mind. But as the image of her standing there in her thin cotton gown, the outline of her lush body visible in the lamplight, flashed through his mind, his sex continued to harden painfully, lengthened until he was fully aroused. While thinking of a woman he couldn't have, he braced himself against the shower wall, and gave himself the relief he dared not seek in her virgin body. His seed spewed from his body in eight spurts, watching as it mingled with the water before disappearing down the drain.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! She cursed to herself, surprising herself in the process. Now I'm going to change into my bathing suit and let him get a good look at my fabulous figure. It wasn't that she disliked her body. A hundred or so years ago her form had been the ideal. She also knew Arab men liked their women plump. But in today's world, waiflike models and skinny-legged, silicone-breasted actresses were the ideal beauty. And she didn't have a doubt that Daniel was the type who would appreciate the current trend in long, lean, toned bodies. After all, he himself possessed a rugged, muscular, hard-as-nails body.

Once back at the house, Roxie took her time changing into her one-piece blue swimsuit. The suit wasn't overly revealing or the least bit sexy, but somehow with it on, she felt completely naked. Grabbing one of the huge bath towels from the stack on the wicker wall shelves, she draped it around her hips and overlapped it on one side. Bracing her shoulders, she marched out of her room, along the hall, up the stairs and through the house.

Her soon to be tormentor waited for her by the pool. She took a really good look at him and wanted to run back to her room and lock the door. He was, without a doubt, the most magnificent man she'd ever seen; tall and muscular, with a to-die-for body, sleek bronze skin over finely toned muscles, long, powerful arms and legs, jet-black hair that hung loosely down his broad back, like the mane of a black stallion. And he was naked, except for a pair of tiny black briefs that did absolutely nothing to disguise the well-endowed proportions of his lower body.

"What took you so long?" he asked. "I thought I was going to have to come and drag you out here."

"You're exaggerating," she said. "I'm not that late."

"I've been waiting at least twenty minutes." His gaze traveled the length of her body, as if taking inventory.

"Get rid of the towel and come over here."

Reluctantly, she loosened the towel, pulled it off and tossed it onto a nearby lounge chair. She felt as naked as the day she was born.

Move it, she told herself. Get your too-big behind over there and do what you have to do. It doesn't matter what Daniel thinks of your body. You don't care whether or not he thinks you're fat. You're not here to impress him with your beauty. You're here to fulfill the agreements of a bargain.

Daniel watched her walk slowly toward him. "Hurry it up, lady. We're running behind schedule as is."

She marched over to him, her chin held high, her cheeks flushed. She stopped directly in front of him and narrowed her gaze, focusing on his face.

He wasn't quite sure what he had expected Roxie to look like in a bathing suit. Fat and soft and unattractive, maybe. Well, if she'd been in a skimpy bikini she might have looked fat. But in the blue one-piece she wore, she looked voluptuous, flawless, with smooth ivory skin. Soft flesh covering a surprisingly firm body. Large breasts swelling out of the top of the modestly-cut swimsuit bodice. And a mane of raven black hair that cascaded over her shoulders, almost reaching her waist.

"I'm ready," she said.

After they'd done several laps, he dragged himself up onto the edge of the pool. She halted in the middle of her lap and swam over to him, but stayed in the water.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You're a...darn good swimmer," he said. "Not quite fast enough, but with practice..." What the hell was he saying? With practice, she would become fast and strong enough to swim the distance from a raft a half-mile offshore to the secluded beach on the island of Sicily?

"I'm surprised that you'll admit I'm not a total flop in the physical-fitness department."

"All I said was that you're a good swimmer," he told her gruffly. "That alone doesn't prepare you for making this trip with me."

"Give me the next forty days and I'll prove to you that I'll be able to go on this mission." She smiled at him.

She actually smiled at him. Daniel hated the way she smiled. With warm, genuinely friendly, happy smile. He was used to women whose smiles were coy and flirty and cunning. And usually fake. There was nothing fake about Roxie or her smile. She was good, genuine human being. A good woman. No, not just a woman; a sweet, old-fashioned lady, with an innocence untouched by cruel, ugly world.

Angered by his own feelings, he pushed her to make as many laps in the pool as she possibly could; and then he demanded that she make one more. If he was going to break her, he couldn't allow his admiration for her determination or his respect for her as a person to interfere with his plans.

After the swimming exercise, he surprise her by his next suggestion. "Before we do anything else, I need to take your measurements and weigh you."

"What!"

"I expect you to lose a few pounds and inches, if you stick with this training for the entire six weeks. I want to be able to check your progress."

Roxie poked Daniel in the chest with her index finger as she talked. "Now, let's get one thing straight. Only I, my doctor and God know how much I weigh. And my measurements are not any of your business."

"Don't act so silly about this. I can look at you and pretty much guess your measurements; which are about 39-27-39, I'd say. And as for your weight..." Roxie covered his mouth with her hand and glared at him. She felt his lips twitching beneath her palm as if he had kissed it.

"You're not going to weigh me and you're not going to take my measurements."

He kissed her palm again, causing a pleasant sensation to go through her. Gasping, she jerked her hand from his mouth.

"What if I told you that if you don't agree to being weighed and measured, you'll be breaking the terms of our deal by not following my orders?"

"I'd say your weighing and measuring me has nothing to do with our deal; that you just want to embarrass me in the hopes I'll run away and cry."

"Will you be embarrassed?" he asked. "Will you run away and cry?"

"I might be embarrassed, but I won't run away and cry."

"Then go step on the scale while I find the tape measure." He didn't think she would do it. He knew how vain women were about their weight and measurements. Women usually lied about their weight as often as they did about their age. If looks could kill, he would be a dead man. Roxie glared at him with pure, undisguised loathing. But she stomped across the room and stepped on the scale. Well, I'll be darned, he thought, impressed with her. She actually did it. He could barely hold back from smiling at her. 

He rummaged in a corner desk, retrieved a tape measure, pad and pencil and walked over to where she waited for him. She didn't look at him or acknowledge his existence in any way while he weighed her.

"Hmmm. You weigh more than I thought," he said. "It must be because you're so solid." He scribbled her weight on the pad and stuck the pad in the pocket of his shorts.

"May I step down now?"

When he reached for her arm, she jerked it away. He chuckled. "Are you angry with me?"

"I'm so mad I could hit you...right in one of your evil eyes." She spoke slowly, enunciating every word.

"Now, let me get your measurements." He didn't know when he'd enjoyed anything quite so much as irritating the heck out of Roxanne Serbati. She was fit to be tied and would like nothing better than to scratch his eyes out. But despite the anger rising inside her, she retained a calm, controlled facade.

One thing was certain, by encouraging her anger and hatred, he was making sure she didn't get any foolish, romantic notions about him. After last night, he'd worried that Roxie might mistake plain old lust for something else.

Daniel whipped out the tape measure, eased it around her waist and clicked his tongue. He had been right. Twenty-seven inches. Removing the tape, he pulled out the notepad, wrote down the figure and then stuck the pad back in his pocket. He measured her hips. He was close on that one. Forty inches. He let out a long, low whistle. She stood perfectly straight and still. Not moving a muscle, barely breathing. He wrapped the tape around her back and brought it across her breasts. 

When his knuckles scraped across her nipples, she sucked in her breath. Instantly, her nipples puckered to hard points.

He swallowed hard. Forty inches. He hadn't meant to touch her intimately, to arouse her or himself. But the damage had been done. Her nipples were tight, and so was his sex. He was swollen so hard, he was sure the front of his pants were going to rip open allowing his rampant erection to burst forth.

"Upper arms and thighs, now." He measured her arms, then knelt before her and slipped his hand between her legs, parting them.




Italian Rhapsody



She shivered involuntarily when he measured her. His big hand was warm and hard against the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

Standing quickly, he pulled out the notepad. His hand shook so badly, he had to wait a couple of seconds before he wrote down her other measurements. He had suggested weighing and measuring her as a scare tactic, one that might put an end to this ridiculous bargain they'd made. But all his "scare" tactic had done was make her dig her heels in, more determined than ever to prove herself to him. And his actions had also given him a raging hard-on. If Roxie thought she'd made a pact with the devil, she was right. He was the kind of man who did whatever was necessary to win, no matter who got hurt. But what he hadn't counted on was that it bothered his conscience to hurt her.

Very early the following morning, Daniel hesitated outside Roxie's door. He glanced down at his wristwatch. Fifteen minutes after five. Lifting his hand, he formed a fist and knocked softly. For the life of him, he wasn't quite sure why he hated disturbing her. He thought he had talked himself out of feeling sorry for her. After all, she was the one who had agreed to this bargain, who had insisted on being stubborn and unrelenting. It wasn't his fault if she didn't have sense enough to know she wasn't capable of undertaking a dangerous mission that required the kind of physical stamina she didn't possess.

He had put her through a fairly rigorous routine yesterday, especially for someone unaccustomed to daily physical exercise. She had panted and heaved and grunted and sweated. But not once had she begged for mercy. Not once had she refused to do what he asked. She'd been so exhausted that she'd almost fallen asleep during dinner and had gone to bed immediately following the meal. He'd been tempted to check on her before he went to bed, but he hadn't. He on the other hand had showered and jerked off.

He knocked again. No response. Maybe her alarm hadn't gone off. Or maybe she'd turned off the alarm and gone back to sleep. She was probably irritable since every muscle in her body was bound to be sore from yesterday's workout.

"Roxie? Are you awake?"

"Yes," he heard her groan.

"Are you decent?"

"If you're asking if I have on any clothes, then yes, I'm decent. I'm still in my nightgown."

He opened the door and walked in. Frowning when he looked into the bedroom and saw her still in bed, he marched through the sitting room and straight to her bedside. He flung back the covers.

Roxie screeched.

"Get up and get ready. I thought you understood the importance of being on time for your exercises."

"If I could get up, I would." She lay on her side, her gown bunched up around her hips, her full, shapely body exposed from just under her buttock cheeks to her toenails.

Instinctively, he leaned over and swatted her on the behind.

She cried out in pain.

"I didn't hit you that hard," he said. "What's wrong with you?"

"For your information, Mr. Fox, my body is in agony. There isn't one inch of me that isn't aching. I'm so sore I can barely move."

"It's only natural that you'd be sore from all the exercise you did yesterday. The best thing for you is to get up and work the soreness out of your body." When he grabbed her hands and pulled her up into a sitting position, she screamed in pain. He released her immediately. "Damn it!"

"Don't you dare curse at me, you...you...slave driver, you! If you hadn't pushed me so hard, expected me to jump through hoops for you, I wouldn't be in this shape."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you'd had enough, that you couldn't take any more? I would have slowed down." He noted how pale her face was since he'd forced her to sit. "All you had to do was say the word and we could have stopped."

"And have you call me a quitter?" She glared at him, her green eyes focusing on his face. "No way was I going to give you an excuse to call off our deal."

"Damn, stubborn, idiotic female," Daniel said, then lowered his voice and grumbled a few choice curse words that she couldn't hear. "Just stay where you are. I'll be back in a minute."

When he went into her bathroom, she called out to him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you a hot bath ready. You need to soak those tired muscles. Then, after your bath, I'll give you a massage and work out some of the soreness."

"How do you suggest I get to the tub? Crawl?"

Daniel chuckled. "Are you that sore?"

"You're being a total jerk about this, you know. But I shouldn't have expected anything else from you, should I?"

He walked out of the bathroom and hovered in the doorway. "Don't be so glum. You'll live."

"There's not one spot on my body that doesn't feel sore. Even my hair seems to hurt."

"After a good hot soak and a massage, you should be able to go for our morning trek around the swamp and then do a few laps in the pool." He grinned wickedly. "After that, you can take the rest of the day off. We'll check out the obstacle course in the late afternoon and get in a little target practice, too."

Roxie groaned. "You're too kind," she said sarcastically. "I can hardly wait to see the scene of my future torture. And the thought of handling a deadly weapon doesn't excite me."

"Get your butt in motion, lady." Crossing his arms over his chest, he surveyed her from the top of her tousled black hair to the tips of her toes. "I'd carry you to the bathtub if I didn't think I'd throw my back out doing it." He'd made the statement as a joke, but the moment he saw the stricken look on her face, he wished the words back. He'd hurt her feelings again. He saw it in her misty eyes, her clenched jaw, her flushed cheeks. Why the heck should he care that he'd hurt her feelings? The meaner, the more rotten he'd treat her, the more likely she'd give up this insane notion of training for a dangerous mission into Sicily seething with Mafia gangsters. The more she hated him, the better. If she hated him, she wouldn't get any romantic notions about him.

When Roxie tried to crawl out of bed, she gasped, then bit down on her bottom lip and continued the effort. By the time she was on her feet, her face was as pale as chalk, sweat coated her forehead and tears trickled down her cheeks.

Suddenly Daniel felt like the jerk she had accused him of being. She was in obvious pain. Any fool could see how badly she was hurting. He had done this to her. Pushing her beyond her limits in his effort to make her run. He had convinced himself that she had sense enough to tell him when she'd had enough. Obviously her stubbornness and determination had overruled her common sense. And his own stubbornness and determination had endangered someone he had been hired to protect. Without saying another word to her, he rushed across the room, lifted her into his arms and headed toward the bathroom. She cried out when he swept her off her feet. Hastily, she threw her arm around his neck.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her startled, tear-filled eyes fixed on his face. "Put me down. I'd never forgive myself if you threw your back out."

"Shut up, will you? You might not be a lightweight, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm a big, strong man." When he reached the bathtub, filled with steaming-hot water, he eased her feet down to the floor and felt a twinge of sympathy when she gasped in pain. He undid the top button on her gown, but she slapped away his hands.

"Now what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping you undress."

"I think I can manage," she told him. "Go away and leave me alone."

"Maybe I should wait outside, just in case you need me."

"I won't need you."

"Okay. I'll go down to the kitchen and get breakfast ready and bring it up here. We can eat before I massage the kinks out of your sore muscles."

He was gone before Roxie could reply. She stood on wobbly legs, her stomach queasy, her hands shaky. Unbuttoning her gown proved to be easy compared to easing her sore arms through the sleeves. Why had she been such a fool yesterday? Why had she allowed him to goad her into over-exerting herself like she had? She blamed him for being such an overbearing taskmaster, for pushing her beyond her limit. But she had to take at least partial blame for allowing him to drive her so hard. After dropping her gown down her hips and onto the tiled floor, she lifted one leg over and into the tub, testing the water. Groaning as pain sliced up her calf, through her thigh and into her hip, almost causing her to collapse in pain. She cautiously lifted her other leg, slid down into the whirlpool and immersed herself in the hot water.

Twenty minutes later, Daniel knocked on the bathroom door. "Time to get out. Just wrap yourself in a towel and come on in here. Coffee is hot."

She shook her head. No. Absolutely not. He was crazy if he thought she was going to parade around in front of him in nothing but a towel. By nature and her upbringing, she was a modest woman. Exposing herself to him in her bathing suit had been unnerving. The very thought of presenting her body to him for a massage was unthinkable, especially if she was covered with only a towel.

She eased up and out of the tub, wrapped a towel turban-like around her wet head and dried her body slowly, being careful not to stretch too much in the effort. After slipping into her gown, she walked out of the bathroom. The hot bath had helped ease her sore muscles a little, but she was still aching so much that she doubted her body would ever fully recover.

Standing in the sitting-room doorway, he held a cup of coffee out to her. She accepted the black coffee. She preferred sweet, creamy, strong coffee, but Daniel had pointed out yesterday that sugar and cream were not on her diet.

"Thanks." Lifting the mug to her lips, she sipped the strong brew. "The hot bath helped some. I don't think a massage is necessary."

"Let's eat breakfast." He nodded to the round, cloth-covered table where he had placed their meal.

She followed him to the table. Acting gentlemanly for the first time since she'd met him, he pulled out a chair and seated her. "Thank you."

"Eat up." He removed the cover from the breakfast tray, revealing two bowls of dry cereal, a pitcher of milk and two glasses of orange juice.

"Don't tell me that you and I are actually going to eat the same thing for breakfast this morning. You can't test my willpower if you don't eat something tempting, the way you did yesterday."

Daniel sat opposite her, lifted the pitcher of milk and doused his cereal. "All right, I admit that I went a little overboard yesterday, in every way. It was cruel of me to eat bacon and eggs in front of you, while you had to eat non-fat yogurt."

"Yes, it was cruel. And petty and mean and..."

"Let's just agree that I acted like a real bastard yesterday...I mean a jerk, and leave it at that." When he noted the disapproving frown on her face, he groaned. Look Ms. Serbati, I am not going to clean up my language for you."

Glancing away, she set down her coffee cup and picked up her juice glass. They ate in silence, each avoiding eye contact with the other. The minute she finished the last bite of cereal, he scooted back his chair and stood.

"Go lie on the bed, facedown," he said. "A massage should get out enough kinks so you can get in your morning walk and swim."

"I don't need a massage. I'll be all right without it."

"This is a perfect example of why I don't want to take you into Sicily." He jerked her chair away from the table, grabbed her arms and drew her to her feet. "In a dangerous situation, I couldn't afford the time to argue with you, to try to convince you to follow my orders. Your stubbornness could cost us both our lives."

"We aren't in Sicily, and this is hardly a life-or-death situation." She glared down at his big hands tightly holding her arms.

"No, but this is a part of your training. Obedience to my commands and punctuality are as crucial as your physical training."

"Oh, all right." Roxie pulled away from him. "Give me the damn...massage." She whirled around and stomped off into the bedroom.

The sound from Daniel's throat was a combination of groan and chuckle. Damn. He supposed that was the closest Roxie ever came to cursing.

She flopped, facedown, on the bed. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."

He hesitated momentarily as he braced himself for what was to come. Roxie needed this massage, but it wasn't going to be easy putting his hands on her body and remain unaffected. Usually, when he touched a woman, it was for one reason and one reason only...foreplay. Already he had masturbated twice. His sex stirred to life just at the thought. He retrieved a bottle of massage oil from the bathroom, then crawled onto the bed and straddled Roxie's hips.

She stiffened and didn't move a muscle or say a word, but her breathing accelerated and deepened. Removing the towel from around her hair, he lifted the long, black mass off her back, separated it into two sections and laid them across the bed on each side of her head.

"Unbutton your gown and ease it down to your waist," he told her.

"Is that really necessary?" Cocking her head to one side, she craned her neck and looked up at him, wincing as she did so.

"No, it's not necessary." Reaching behind him, he clutched the hem of her gown and lifted it. "If you'd rather, I can pull your gown up to your neck and..."

"No!" She wriggled beneath him, her hips brushing his thigh. "I'll unbutton my stupid gown."

After she undid her gown, he helped her ease the garment to her waist. She lay beneath him, her large breasts flattened into the mattress, and held her breath, waiting for him to touch her.

Daniel squirted some of the jasmine-scented oil into his hands, spread it across Roxie's naked back, then grasped her shoulders. The moment he encompassed her shoulders, she tensed.

"Relax, Roxie."

"I'm trying."

Within five minutes, she was prepared to conclude that Daniel's touch was pure magic. He rubbed and kneaded her neck, shoulders, back and arms. With each stroke, the pain intensified and then subsided, leaving her weak and relaxed. Then he lifted her gown to her upper thighs and began working on her feet and legs. She had never experienced anything quite so gloriously hedonistic. She sighed when he massaged her thigh, one hand kept going between her legs, his fingers biting into her flesh, occasionally brushing against her feminine folds. Every time she felt his fingertips getting near her feminine core, she instinctively moved against the gentle touch. Quivers of awareness spiraled out and over her nerve endings. Pinpricks of sensual pleasure alerted her to danger. She was sure she was going to climax soon if he didn't stop. Her nipples tightened. Her feminine core clenched and unclenched. This shouldn't be happening, she thought. This is wrong, and...sinful. But if she made him stop, would he taunt her, telling her that she was weak and not capable of seeing a job through to the finish?

You don't want to stop him, an inner voice told her. Admit the truth to yourself. You are enjoying this, enjoying the way he makes you feel. And you want more; so much more from him. Again, she thought about letting him make love to her, over and over again.

He knew he should put an end to the massage. He'd been a fool to think he could touch this woman and not want to make love to her. During the past fifteen minutes, he'd gotten hard as a rock and stayed that way. The more he touched her, the more he wanted to touch her.

What would it be like, he wondered, to teach this sweet innocent about the pleasures of the flesh? He'd never had sex with an inexperienced woman before, not even when he'd been an untutored boy with raging hormones. His first time, when he was fourteen, had been with a friend's older sister; seventeen-year-old Maria, a Latin beauty, and she had been a talented lover, but in reality she had been a porn star, and had been sexually active since she was of a very young age; an unbelievable eleven years old. A fifteen year old boy had taken her virginity. The poor boy hadn't really taken her virginity, more like she had her way with him, not giving him much of a choice, and had also taken his virginity in the process.

During the message, he softened his touch, turning the massage from therapeutic to sensual, waiting to see if she would protest? Or would she succumb to the pleasure? He was sure she would succumb. Already he could feel her arousal; felt her move slightly whenever his fingers neared her sex.

Daniel fought a war within himself. His libido urged him to discover the unknown, to take what was before him...and his conscience be damned. But his mind warned him that if he pursued this any further, he would regret his actions.

If he made love to her, she would expect more from him than he was willing to give. More than he had in him to give.

No matter how much he might enjoy the experience of seducing a virgin, he had no right to take away Roxie's innocence and give her nothing in return... nothing except a few fleeting moments of pleasure. She was the kind of woman who would want and need and expect love and a commitment. He could offer her neither.

He yanked her gown down to cover her legs, then lifted the bodice and pulled it up her back. "That should do it." He slapped her beautifully rounded behind. "Get dressed while I clear away our breakfast." He shot up off the bed. "Meet me outside as soon as you're ready."

Roxie lay on the bed for several minutes, stunned by the intensity of the pleasure he had given her. She had wanted to protest, to cry out and beg him not to leave her, to continue touching her, caressing her. She was sure she had been on the verge of an orgasm.

Moaning into the covers, she curled up into a ball. "Idiot," she mumbled into the sheet. Daniel was giving you a massage, not making love to you. You don't interest him in the least, remember that. He could have his pick of women. Why would he want you?

A week later, after a long day of exercises, Roxie went for a walk amongst the trees. Daniel wouldn't be back for another hour so she decided to head back to the house and take a swim in the pool. Kneeling down at the pool's edge, she dipped her hand into the it and tested the water. It was invitingly cool, and she was hot and sweaty from her day of workouts.

Stripping, she let her attire lay where they fell and, pinning up her long hair, she got into the pool and floated on her back, her breasts poking out of the water, the hard nipples pointing straight up. Before long she was happily swimming and then leisurely floating about the pool. The late afternoon sunlight dappled the water, and she freer and so relaxed than she had since coming here with Daniel. Turning to swim to the pool's ladder to get out, she was startled to see Daniel hunkering by her clothes and regarding her with amusement. Her feet touched the bottom rung, and she regarded him, half angry, half shy.

"Come out, my little Italian beauty. You will shrivel your lovely skin."

"No, I can't."

"Why not?" His face grew worried. "Do you have a cramp?"

"I'm...I'm not accustomed to being naked around men."

"I can change all that." He grinned at her.

"Please, Daniel..." Her eyes pleaded with him, but he was not to be swayed.

"If you don't come out, my little mermaid, then I shall come in." Chuckling, he removed his shirt. His broad chest was smooth and tanned and very well muscled.

"You will find the water refreshing."

So, she wants to play, thought Daniel, surprised. The little vixen! He stripped his boots and pants off, never noticing that Roxie kept her eyes on his face. Plunging in, he surfaced to discover himself alone in the pool; she had hurriedly climbed out as he dove in, and was frantically trying to get into her clothing. Swimming to the pool's edge, he vaulted out with ease. He was furious, and the look in his eyes was unmistakable.




Italian Rhapsody



She was naked from the waist up as he caught her to him and loosed her hair. It tumbled about her wet shoulders. Kissing her slowly and deliberately, he forced her mouth open and touched her tongue with his. She trembled and then moved away fro him, crossing her arms in front of her to hide her generous bosom.

"Please, Daniel," she whispered, "not like this. I am a preacher's daughter, not some woman to just be used to satisfy your lust."

"You need not blush. I have seen your body. You are quite beautiful. The human body is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially yours, Roxanne."

She lowered her eyes, and for a few moments they stood in silence. Then he bent and kissed her, he felt her tremble again.

"Do not fear, little virgin. I will not ravish you," he whispered against her lips.

"Daniel..." Her voice was shaky.

He stopped her with a finger to her lips. "You are correct, Roxanne. You are a daughter of a pastor and don't deserve to be used by some lusty man. While you deserve to have someone love you unconditionally, me not being that man, I still would like to be your first lover. I might be lusting after you, but I'd make sure that you are a well satisfied woman."

After she had left him, she went into her bedroom and threw herself onto the bed. Daniel sure made her body feel aware of him. Sooner or later, Roxie knew that she would fall victim to the lusts of the flesh I she couldn't control herself.

5 weeks later

Roxie preened in front of the mirror as she gazed at her figure. She'd lost almost twenty pounds in six weeks, trimmed an inch or two off her hips, an inch or two off her waist and off her thighs. Daniel had her on a low-fat diet, but the intense physical activity is what had trimmed the pounds and inches off her.

Although they didn't get along any better, she had to keep reminding herself that she must not hate a person, only the things that a person does.

Roxie laughed. She loved and treasured Daniel's soul, but hated almost everything the man did. For a while, she'd thought he might be human, but now she thought that he wasn't. He was an unfeeling machine. All he wanted to do was wear her down so that she'll give up and he wouldn't have to fulfill his agreement to take her to Sicily.

For over a year, she had tried, by every legal means possible, to get Carlo out of Sicily. Now she knew, in her heart, that she had to be the one to rescue her nephew. She had come to have faith in her own strength and power.

She surveyed her body from head to toe. She was still plump, but not quite as much. And she was physically stronger than she'd ever been in her life. She had survived six weeks of torment, from a bullying, demanding Daniel Fox. She hadn't fallen victim to the sins of the flesh. The glimpse of kindness she'd seen in him their second morning in this swamp had been the only indication that he was human. After abruptly ending her massage that morning, he had switched back into the same unfeeling man he'd been the day before. But no matter what he'd said or done, no matter how much he had punished her body and hurt her feelings, she had endured. She had accepted every challenge. She'd even learned to use a handgun, as much as she detested the thought of ever firing it at another person. And now triumph was close at hand. Only one more day and Daniel would have to admit defeat. He would have to adhere to the terms of their agreement and take her with him to Sicily.

"Well, when do we leave?" Roxie looked across the dinner table the next day, and smiled at Daniel. She had survived six weeks of training; training that he had made as difficult as possible for her, without endangering her life. Despite his best efforts to break her physically and emotionally, she had met the challenge. She had followed his orders, despite a lot of dirty looks and mumbled death-wishes for him.

As much as he hated to admit it, he admired Roxie's grit and resolve. He'd never met a woman so damned determined to put her own life at risk because she truly believed in what she was doing. It shouldn't matter to him if she wound up getting herself killed. He wouldn't be at fault. He'd done everything he could to prevent her from acting irrationally, hadn't he? So, why was he so damn worried about her?

"I know we had a bargain, but..."

"But you didn't think I'd stick it out the whole six weeks, did you?" Her smiled widened. She tilted her chin triumphantly.

"I'll give you credit for taking everything I dished out. You're a lot tougher than you look. But the fact remains that I can do this job better without you."

Abruptly standing, Roxie knocked over her chair. She threw her napkin down on the table. "We made a deal. I expect you to live up to your part of our bargain. I'm going with you to Sicily and that's that!"

She stormed out of the kitchen. He jumped up and ran after her, catching her in the hallway.

Grabbing her, he whirled her around. She faced him defiantly.

"All right, Roxie, I'll take you with me to Sicily."

"Oh, Daniel, I knew you wouldn't break your promise to me." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Holding the back of her head with one hand, he let his other hand sweep downward to her hips. "You'll follow my orders, no questions asked?"

"Yes. I've already said that I would."

"You'll do whatever I tell you to do, give me whatever I want?"

"Yes, of course, I..." She suddenly stopped. "What do you mean, give you whatever you want?" She dropped her arms from his shoulders and tried to step backward, but he tightened his hold around her neck and drew her soft body up against his.

"We'll be two people, alone on a dangerous mission, counting on each other every minute. We'll be going as a married couple." He lowered his head until his lips were only a hairbreadth from hers. "We'll eat together, sleep together, bathe together, and make love to each other."

Her face flushed bright red. She squirmed, trying to free herself from his strong hold. "Are you saying that when we're in Sicily, you expect us to...me to...?"

He took her mouth in a devastatingly passionate kiss, planning to frighten her with the intensity of his desire. He would show her what he could do to her with only one kiss.

She fought him, shoving against his chest, thrashing her head from side to side in an effort to break the kiss. But he held fast, pushing his tongue inside her mouth, taking her against her will. She whimpered. He explored her mouth, deepening the kiss. She went limp in his arms. Releasing her neck, he cupped her buttocks in both of his hands and pulled her up against his crotch, allowing her to feel how hard and hungry he was for her.

Suddenly she slid her arms around his waist, holding on to him with a fierce possessiveness. Tentatively, shyly, she began responding to his kiss. She touched her tongue to his and sighed when he groaned.

Daniel hardened painfully. Damn it all, this wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to respond, and he wasn't supposed to like it. If he didn't put a stop to this immediately, he would be backing her up against the wall and taking her right where she stood. He broke the kiss. She clung to him. His breathing was labored. Sweat dotted his forehead. He grasped Roxie's shoulders and shoved her away from him. They stood there in the semi-darkness of the hallway and stared at each other for an endless moment. He had only one shot left, only one last chance to make her back out on their deal. It might be a cheap, dirty, unfair shot, but he'd never let that stop him before.

"Well, honey, this mission could turn out to be more interesting than I thought." He gently pressed his index finger to the hollow of her throat, then ran it down between her breasts.

She sucked in a deep breath. He glided his finger over one breast, circled the nipple but not touching it, then repeated the process on her other breast. She stood there, transfixed, holding her breath, gazing into his eyes.

He pressed her back against the wall, spreading her legs with his knees as he lifted her dress with one hand. He slid a hand under her sweater and cupped a breast. She still didn't stop him. Then he reached for his zipper, his intention was to scare her. He was not in a position to take her against the wall. She was too short. So he did what was sure to anger her. "I've never had me a little fat virgin before." He scanned her from breasts to hips and grinned wickedly. "But I need a new experience from time to time."

That did it. She kneed him in the stomach. When he bent forward in surprise, she punched him in the face. Her solid blow knocked him to the floor, stunning him. He didn't know how he had expected her to react, but he certainly hadn't expected her to hit him. She sure had a good, solid right. He looked up at her from her feet, feeling like a lowlife.

"You are a real..." she hesitated, "...bastard, Mr. Fox"

"You've got that right, lady. I am a real bastard, in every sense of the word. I have no idea who my old man was." He laughed loudly. "Hell, I don't even know who my mother was. I am an unwanted nobody." He continued laughing.

Tears welled up in Roxie's eyes and threatened to overflow. She turned and ran down the hall.

He watched her as she escaped from his evil-sounding laughter. He couldn't ever remember feeling so ashamed of something he'd done. He'd hurt her in order to be kind, in order to prevent her from making a monumental mistake, hadn't he? So why did he feel like such a son-of-a-bitch? Why did he want to go after her and tell her that he was sorry, that he hadn't meant what he'd said? That all he wanted to do was make love to her amazingly gorgeous body.

Downstairs in her bedroom, Roxie threw herself on the bed and cried. She cried loud, long, and hard, even screamed a couple of times. She pounded her fists into the pillow beside her, pretending it was Daniel Fox's face. She hated him! Hated him! Hated him! He was the vilest, cruelest, most despicable man on God's green earth. It was his own fault that she'd kneed and punched him. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't even realized that she intended to do it, until she'd already struck the blows. She had never hit anyone in her life. But he had brought her to this, making her act like a heathen. She should have known he wouldn't keep his promise, wouldn't uphold his end of their deal. So what was she going to do now? She had to go to Sicily, and if he wouldn't take her, she would have to find another way. She tried to ignore the knocking on the door. Let him knock. Let him stand outside and wait.

When she didn't answer his knock. He flung open the door and blew into her bedroom. "Pack up. I've contacted my man in Italy. He's expecting us to arrive in southern Italy tomorrow night."

"Us?" She wiped the tears from her face with her fingers.

"Yes, damn it. Us."

"You're taking me with you?"

"Yes, I'm taking you with me. Heaven help us both."

She scooted to the edge of the bed. "Do you expect me to...I mean will I have to..."

Daniel clenched his jaw tightly. The pulse in his neck throbbed. "Lady, I wouldn't touch you if you were the last woman on earth," he lied.

To be continued...