Cleopatra reached out and slowly explored the curve of his lips with her fingers in a sweet caress that carried with it a heat that penetrated his skin. He gently nipped at her fingertips with his teeth. The warmth of her touch spread slowly through his veins until need consumed his body and had him hard in seconds. He lowered his head to kiss the side of her neck.

"Perhaps we should repeat it just to be sure."

"Hmm . . . are you up for it?" Despite her teasing, he could still sense her uncertainty.

"I think so," he growled as he caught her hand and made her stroke his swollen cock.

"Yes, I think you are." Her breathless tone said she liked touching him, and a rush of triumph surged through him as he saw the anticipation in her eyes. Somewhere in the back of his head, guilt tried to steal the pleasure her touch gave him. Without a second thought, he closed his mind off to everything except the delicious taste and scent of her as he captured her mouth in a hard kiss. Later he would find a way to come to grips with the choice he'd made. For the moment, all he wanted to do was love her.

Chapter 20.

ALIVE. It was the only word Cleo could think of for the way Dante made her feel. It was something she'd never experienced before. This emotional and physical sensation of being a part of someone else. The connection between them was one she didn't understand, but it was there just the same. It had been since that day in the hallway when their thoughts had merged and he'd seen her painful past. With each passing day it had grown stronger, despite her best efforts to ignore it.

Intense delight banished every thought from her mind as his fingers brushed across her breast. It was a caress of exploration, slightly tentative and unbelievably sensual. That she was his first was a heady thought. It meant she was special. She flinched inwardly and quickly shoved the thought aside. Instead she focused her attention on Dante's face as he gently, almost reverently, cupped her breast. The fascination on his features sent a small shiver down her back, which became a shiver of pleasure the moment he circled her nipple with his thumb. The light touch pulled a sharp breath from her, and their gazes locked for a brief moment before he slowly lowered his head to take her into his mouth.

Her back arched toward him as a sensuous delight spun its way through her limbs. The lazy heat of the sensation wrapped itself around her, sending her heartbeat skidding out of control. The man was definitely intent on making up for lost time when it came to his lack of experience. She wasn't about to protest. Another harsh breath filled her lungs the instant his tongue swirled around the tip of her. She couldn't remember ever enjoying a man's touch as much as his. The thought had barely registered when his fingers gently probed for the nub of flesh between her legs. The touch tugged a low cry of excitement from her.

She bucked her hips upward as his thumb rubbed firmly against the sensitive flesh. Sweet Vesta. For an innocent, he learned quickly. She'd never wanted a man more. Sex had always been pleasurable, but not even Michael had created this constant craving inside her. A need to possess and be possessed. It stirred a white-hot heat deep inside of her that she knew would never go away. Her next breath was ragged as he slid a finger into her.

"Deus," she cried out sharply. The moment his mouth left her breast, her eyes fluttered open to look at him. Desire glittered in his gaze.

"I take it you like that?" His voice was a husky caress.

"Yes, very-" she gasped as he slipped another finger inside her and increased the pressure of his stroke between her legs. "Sweet mother of Juno."

He lowered his head to nip at the side of her neck. Other men had administered similar caresses, but they'd never stirred her body into such a frenzied state. What the hell was happening to her? Desire coiled deep in her belly until she ached with the need to have him throbbing inside her.

She pressed her hands against his shoulders in an effort to shift the balance of power between them, but he resisted. An instant later he was on top of her and settled between her legs. It was a startling display of confidence from him. Arms braced on either side of her, he stared down at her with an expression that thrilled and terrified her at the same time.

In a leisurely fashion, he bent his head to kiss her lightly. She wanted it to last longer, but his mouth moved on to explore the side of her neck and then her shoulder. His cock jumped against her thigh, and she whimpered.

"Please . . . I need you inside me now," she choked out harshly. His response was to press the tip of his erection lightly against her. Christus, hadn't the man heard her? "Please . . ."

"I like the way you say please." His whisper was a warm, teasing breath across the top of her breasts. The tip of his tongue dampened the skin there. "And I like the way you taste."

His mouth was like a hot summer breeze against her skin, drawing her into a whirlwind of fiery sensations. She moaned as his cock pressed harder against the very edge of her. The anticipation tightened every muscle in her body as she pressed her hips forward in silent demand. He lifted his head to look down at her.

Hunger darkened his eyes before he suddenly thrust hard into her. Sharp and exquisite, the feel of him buried inside her made her cry out with intense pleasure. He remained still for the longest moment then with slow strokes moved his body against hers. She arched her hips up into him with each thrust. Desire coiled tight and hard inside her.

Deus, she'd never felt like this before. Every part of her craved him to the point where she was certain she'd stop breathing if he pulled away from her. Need burned its way into every inch of her, blinding her to everything but the hard heat of him inside her. His hips continued to move against her as he lowered his head to suckle one stiff nipple.

Pleasure thundered its way through her as his tongue abraded the rigid peak. The desire pulsing its way through her made her clutch at his hips in a frantic demand for him to increase the pace of his strokes. Each breath she took was more ragged than the last as her body cried out for a release from the exquisite torment spiraling through her veins.

With a loud cry, she thrust her hips upward as her body clenched around his cock. Like a wild storm, her orgasm took her to a high peak of intense delight. One tremor after another crashed through her as she fell off the summit. Seconds later, the pleasure tugged her upward again as his body began to rock against hers in hard, fast strokes.

Each thrust of his body sent delight curling its way into every inch of her body, but it was the flash of hot emotion caressing her senses that made her gasp. The intimacy of the mental touch increased her pleasure as his thoughts melded with hers. Not only was she experiencing her own pleasure, but his as well.

It was as intense as it was sensual. She could feel everything he felt. The friction. The heat.

The need.

Another emotion fluttered on the edge of his need, but it was impossible to fully define, as pleasure carried her to a place she'd never been before. The moment her body clenched tight around him, he jerked against her hips and throbbed inside her.

Brilliantly colored lights flashed inside her head as her eyes fluttered closed. Their connection made her uncertain whether the vivid colors were her own reaction to the acute waves of pleasure engulfing her or his. As the intensity of her climax ebbed away, a warm lethargy filled her limbs. She couldn't remember ever feeling so satiated.

As his harsh, ragged breathing slowed, he rolled to the side, taking her with him to cradle her in his arms. The silence between them was warm and comfortable, as if they'd been lovers a very long time. Eyes closed, she snuggled into his chest. His spicy aroma and the soft, warm scent of their lovemaking filled her nostrils. She felt complete and whole. Something she'd never felt before. The thought frightened her.

In the short time she'd known Dante, she'd developed feelings for him. Feelings that ran deeper than she'd realized until now. And that complicated things. It took her relationship with him to a whole different level. Something she hadn't been prepared for. Worse, the man had broken his vow because of her.

Logically she knew he'd made the choice of his own free will. It had all happened so fast, but somehow she still felt like Lilith seducing Adam in the Garden of Eden. Not a pleasant feeling. It cheapened what they'd just shared. And that she didn't like at all, because it had been the most wonderful experience she'd ever had with a man.

A quiet thought caressed hers, and she stiffened in his arms. It was the same feeling she'd sensed before, just as that final moment of intense pleasure had blotted out every other thought in her head. She drew in a sharp breath. Deus, he couldn't possibly . . . was that why he'd broken his oath? Quickly shoving herself out of his arms, she scrambled to her feet. Her gaze fell on their tangled clothing, and she sorted through the items in a frantic effort to find her things.

"What in Jupiter's name is wrong?" Dante said in a gruff voice. She snatched up several articles of his clothing with shaking hands and threw them at him.

"You need to get dressed."

She jerked her jeans on and found it almost impossible to zip them because her fingers were trembling so badly. Strong hands spun her around to face him. He towered over her with a grim expression on his face.

"I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's wrong."

"You're in love with me," she exclaimed. His brow wrinkled with a frown of puzzlement.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes . . . no . . . yes." She tried to break free of his grip.

"Which is it? Yes or no?" he asked with exasperation.

"You can't love me."

"Why not?" His mouth thinning with irritation, he shook her gently.

"There are lots of reasons why not."

"Such as?"

"Such as . . . I can't have children." The words were like a blade cutting through her heart. It wasn't just that she couldn't have children. She couldn't have his children. It made her want to cry. And she'd already cried enough.

"I know that, carissima. It doesn't matter." The gentleness in his voice only made things worse. Fuck, why did he have to be so goddamn understanding and . . . wonderful. She tugged one arm free.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "Of course it matters. Not only that but I'm not Sicari."

"Now who's being ridiculous?" The sharp note in his voice indicated his frustration was growing.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't," he bit out. "You have the blood of a Sicari Lord flowing through your veins. I don't know how much more Sicari you can get. But even if you weren't Sicari I'd still love you."

"Goddamnit. Don't say that." This time she jerked completely free of his grasp.

Pain and humiliation hardened his face, making her eyes water. Deus, if she cried now . . . She wouldn't. She swallowed the knot of bile rising in her throat. Maybe she was being ridiculous, but she was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. He'd already broken his oath for her. She wouldn't let him give up anything else. The next thing she knew he'd be talking about a blood bond.

"Of course I want to blood bond with you. It's the natural order of things."

"No. It's not." She glared at him, angry that he'd read her thoughts.

Their connection was only going to make things all the more difficult if she didn't find a way to keep him out of her head. The sound of a cell phone going off pierced the air, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With a muttered curse, he picked up his pants and dug into the pocket for the small handheld device.

"What is it?" he growled.

It was impossible to hear the other side of the conversation, but the minute his face grew ashen, her heart leaped into her mouth. Something was terribly wrong. Fear gnawed at her as she felt him reeling with grief. She stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

"My parents?" she hissed softly. As she asked the question, she realized she'd included Marcus in her concern. He shook his head at her.

"Inform Marcus. Put the compound on full alert, and I want two teams ready to go in fifteen minutes. I'll meet you at the garage." Even before he ended the call, Dante was already getting dressed.

"What's happened?"

"Nicostratus attacked the city's main installation. There are only a few survivors, most of them Vigilavi."

"Sweet Vesta," she breathed in horror. She remembered the friends she'd made more than a year ago while staying at the facility. Salvatore, Stefano, Maria . . . were any of them still alive?

"Fuck." Dante's harsh oath was a mixture of rage and grief all rolled into one. "That facility has some of the strongest security measures in the Order."

"How could they have possibly broken through their defenses unless . . ." Her voice trailed off at the terrible thought.

"Unless the bastardi had help from the inside."

He finished her thought, and she met his gaze with a sinking heart. Had a Vigilavi betrayed the Order, or even worse, a Sicari? Dante turned away from her and resumed dressing. The connection between them had never been stronger, and his cold rage assaulted her senses.

Cleo understood his fury far too well. It had consumed her the other night at the convent. A shiver ran down her back. Was that why Nicostratus had attacked the Rome facility? Whatever the reason, she wasn't about to stay behind. She was a skilled fighter, and if the Praetorians returned, Dante would need her.

"I'm coming with you."

"No." The single word was an angry thunderclap in the room. She stared at him in shock. Dante shot a quick glance in her direction as he tugged his trousers on. "You're staying here."

Cleo narrowed her eyes as she watched him tug his shirt over his head. His tension was a harsh, invisible vibration against her skin. The man wasn't just being unreasonable. He was doing exactly what she feared he would do. He was trying to protect her. It was an impossible task.

"This is why I won't blood bond with you," she said quietly.

"I don't have time for this, Cleopatra. We'll discuss this later." The vicious snarl told her exactly how much he wanted to protect her.

"No. We won't. Because there's nothing to discuss. You can't favor me over others when it comes to situations like this. You know that. It comes with the territory."

"I'm not about to take you into a situation like this where your lack of abilities could get you killed."

If he'd slapped her face she couldn't have been more stunned. Dazed, she immediately recoiled from him as he took a step toward her. The instant she retreated, anguish flashed across his face.

"Christus, I didn't mean it like that, Cleopatra."

His torment rolled over her before she cut their connection by closing herself off to him. It was difficult to do, but she'd had plenty of practice learning how to hide her thoughts from Praetorians. He might regret his words, but they illustrated precisely why she could never bond with him. The fact that she was Sicari simply by blood and nothing more would always stand between them.

"I know exactly what you meant," she said in a voice devoid of emotion. She turned away and quickly gathered up her clothes. "I'll meet you in the garage."

The silence in the room was thick with tension as she turned and walked toward her bedroom to dress for the mission. Ruthlessly, she shut out every emotion she possessed except for a steely resolve to do what she was trained to do. The Praetorians had declared war by launching an assault on the Rome installation, and she needed to prove once again that she was worthy.

In her bedroom, she moved with a speed that years of discipline had taught her. As she tugged on a black knit shirt, she heard the door to the suite slam shut. Turbulent emotions threatened to break through, but she crushed them before they had a chance to surface and threaten her composure. She had a job to do, and Sicari abilities or not, she intended to do it to the best of her ability.

Cleo finished dressing in record time, and in less than ten minutes she was following other members of the Absconditus into the garage. There was no talking, just a grim silence that reflected the seriousness of the situation. Without any instruction, the teams launched themselves into four vehicles. Cleo made specific note of where Dante was and deliberately avoided his SUV. Her gaze met his across the distance between them, and he jerked his head in the direction of his car. She ignored the silent command and climbed into the nearest vehicle. Moments later the two teams roared out of the compound.

AS Atia walked down the corridor toward the research lab, she playfully nudged Marcus with her elbow.

"You're doing it again."

"I always hum when I'm in a good mood or feeling satisfied," Marcus said and flashed a wicked grin at her. "I've enjoyed not having to think about work for a change."

"Something I should have been thinking about, rather than giving into your every whim for the past three days." She shot him a quick glance of exasperation then softened her voice. "But I don't regret it."

"As long as you never do," he murmured as they stopped in front of the lab door.

"Never." Her fingertips brushed across his mouth before she punched her private code into the security panel on the wall. When she heard the soft click of the lock releasing, she pushed the heavy steel door open and entered the dark room. She immediately froze. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Mentally she envisioned the light switch and flipped it upward without touching it. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered briefly before they steadied and illuminated the lab.

"Something's not right," Marcus growled as he entered the room.

Her husband's words simply confirmed what her senses were telling her. Fear streaked through Atia as she didn't reply but hurried toward the secured storage box that held the Tyet of Isis. The moment she touched the electronic security panel, she knew the document was gone. It didn't stop her from frantically opening the lockbox, hoping she was wrong. She wasn't.

"Fuck." Marcus's anger was a palpable sensation on her skin. She whirled around to see him standing at the computer as he slammed his fist against the steel countertop. He looked at her, his face grim. "The hard drive's been wiped clean."

"Sweet Vesta."

He jerked upright in fury. "The document is gone?"

When she nodded, Marcus uttered another oath. He immediately pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. Fingertips pressed against her lips, Atia paced the floor in front of the empty lockbox. Whoever had killed Sandro had to be the same person who'd stolen the Tyet of Isis document.

"Lysander, find Firmani. The document is gone," Marcus snapped. A second later his brusque voice became a vicious snarl. "When?"

Another long pause occurred in the conversation, and Marcus met her gaze with an expression she remembered from the day Gabriel was taken. He was ready to kill someone.

"Have the car brought around and call the airport. I'm going after him." Marcus tapped the screen of his phone to end the conversation, his features dark with fury. "That Councilman who's a thorn in your side, Cato, is missing. He disappeared three days ago. Apparently Firmani tracked him down to a commercial flight to Rome out of O'Hare. He took one of the Order's planes yesterday to follow him."