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Authors: Cara Elliott

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She gave a soft cry, the sound nearly swallowed by the bubbling of the hot spring.

Jack stilled for an instant, feeling like a brute.

But then, Alexandra's arms were around his neck, her slim ringers twining in his hair. "Jack.
Si grande new Giacomo."

Oh yes, he was big, bad Black Jack.
A dark, dark devil with a heart singed in sin.

He knew she was reacting out of desperation. But he was cad enough to take shameless advantage of her weakness. His mouth captured hers again, delving deep in a lush kiss. She tasted of smoke, of spice, of every sensuous fantasy he had ever imagined. Sweet beyond words.

A groan rumbled deep in his throat as he trailed a line of kisses to the hollow of her throat. Beneath his groping touch, her breasts swelled against his palms, the tips like tiny points of fire.

"Sweet Jesus." Bracing himself on his elbows, Jack found the fastenings of her gown. His movements fast and furious, he freed the tabs and loosened the lacing of her corset. Any lingering twinge of guilt gave way to pure, primal lust as Alessandra began tugging at his clothing.

No words, no thoughts. His mind was a haze of longing.

She worked his coat off and slid her hands under his shirt, her nails scoring a trail of heat across his shoulder blades. Jack groaned again—or was it a growl—and shifted his weight Groping for her skirts, he hiked them up around her waist A hem snagged and he heard a rip as the fabric bunched in a torrid tangle of muslin and shirttails.

Honor be damned.

Above the creamy stretch of her stockings was a pure white frothing of lace. It took only a moment to peel off her garters, exposing her flesh. The insides of her thighs were soft and sensuous as a sun-warmed rose petal. In contrast to his bronzed hands, their color was a delicate shade of blush pink.

"Lift your hips, sweeting," he rasped.

Her back arched, allowing Jack to slide his coat beneath her. She had only to say no, he rationalized. A single word and he would stop, no matter that he was half wild with need.

As if sensing his question, Alessandra looped her arms around his waist, entwining them closer. Her lips brushed the comer of his mouth.

"Jack.Si."

Yes. Yes.
like the soft swirls of steam, the whisper licked against his flesh. He levered himself up, the lantern's dancing flame casting sinuous shadows across the grotto walls.
Dark. Dangerous.
Was it magic or madness drawing him on? Hell, he no longer cared. Only this moment mattered.

Stripping off his shirt, Jack pressed his palms against her legs, urging them wider. Through the wisp of lace he caught a peek of silken curls and nearly came undone. Holding her open with his knees, he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches. The flap fell free, releasing his rigid cock.

Muscles taut and glistening in the winking glow, he was acutely aware of the tiny drops of water beading on his bare skin, the tickle of his tangled hair kissing his shoulders. He was wickedly, wantonly naked save for his boots and the breeches scrunched around his knees.

Alessandra lifted her lashes, her gaze a glitter of green as she stared at his fully aroused manhood. She touched his belly, trailing her hand down the line of dark hair to the nest of coarse black curls and the heavy sac of his sex.

Diavolo.
He could hold back no longer.

Exhaling a pent-up breath, Jack surged forward and positioned himself at the opening of her passage. A tingle of honeyed heat teased against the tip of his cock. Fire pulsed through him, singeing his senses. He was dimly aware of his heartbeat, pounding loud as cannonfire in his ears.

Biting back a cry of triumph, he thrust in deeply, sheathing himself in her core.

Alessandra was suddenly filled with a thick, throbbing heat It felt... so right, this joining of their bodies.

Was it so wrong to lose herself in a surge of sweet oblivion, before surrendering to her past sins?

For yet another brief interlude she could hold on to a world untarnished by sordid deception. Black Jack Pierson was a pillar of shining strength, a soul of unquestionable honor. She didn't deserve his goodness. But selfishly, she would seize it

"Alessandra." The stubbling of his jaw scraped lightly against her cheek. His scent—a heady mix of masculine musk and earthy arousal—swirled up from his sweat-sheened body. Beneath her flattened palms, she felt the rippling of muscle, the pulsing rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Jack." His closeness filled her with longing.

Jack.
He had made her achingly aware of the void in her life—one that was not merely physical. His sculpted strength transcended flesh and blood. Oh, if only she might take heart from touching his essence.

But a fleeting coupling was all she could hope for. And shamelessly, she would take it No matter how empty she would feel in the aftermath.

He kissed her, a sweet, gossamer grazing of his lips that left her yearning for more. "Why won't you trust me?" he whispered. "I want to help."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Later. We will speak of it later." Her voice trembled. Yet another lie. How could she explain, when the answers he sought were too horrible to speak aloud?

"Later," he echoed.
"Va bene."

Good? No, it was evil of her.

But her soul had long since been damned to perdition. This last sweet moment of wickedness would hardly add to her sins.

Sin.
Oh, it was sinful what his tongue was now doing to her body. Teasing a languid trail down the arch of her neck, the warm wicked tip flicked at her nipple, slowly at first and then with a more demanding urgency. Alessandra wriggled against him, moaning softly as he hooked his finger in her bodice and bared her breasts.

"Sei cost bella
—you are so beautiful." The words were hardly more than a breath of air as his mouth closed over her and suckled the peaked flesh.

Drawing her fingertips in slow, swirling circles down the line of his spine, Alessandra cupped a caress to his taut buttocks. A prick of her nails and she felt him swell and surge inside her.

Muffling her cry in the dark, tumbled fall of his hair, she arched up to match his quickening tempo. Heat spiraled through her core, the sweet friction teasing her feminine pearl to a throbbing point of fire. She was no stranger to lovemaking. Her late husband had enjoyed the physical pleasures of the marriage bed. But while Stefano had been a gentle, languid partner, Jack possessed her with a hot, demanding passion.

Passion.
For so long she had kept herself under tight check. The fierceness of her own emotions sometimes frightened her. She had seen how dangerous it could be to let the heart overrule the head. But as Jack's teeth nipped her neck, the last shred of willpower unraveled in a moan.

Danger be damned.

Jack lifted himself, allowing a whisper of moist air between their bodies. The wispy steam was cool against her burning flesh. Too cool. Mouthing a soft sigh, Alessandra shifted her hips, seeking to close the sliver of space between them.

He sucked in his bream and let it out in a ragged, rasping groan. "Another instant and I'll fall over the edge, sweeting. I must Hold back." His hand slipped through her honeyed curls and found her throbbing spot "But let me take you to the peak of pleasure."

She twisted beneath his stroking touch, the tension inside her coiling to an exquisite, unbearable tautness. Mindless of all else but the need to have him around her, inside her, Alessandra arched up, driving him deeper.

As his hoarse shout reverberated off the rock walls, the stones seemed to shudder beneath her, and in the next heartbeat, her body convulsed in the shower of firegold sparks.

Chapter twenty-one

Lying in languorous repose, Jack listened to the gentle gurgling of the thermal spring. There was something soothing about the water sounds, and the tendrils of heated mist floating through the air. Through half-opened eyes he watched them swirl above his head in lazy circles and then dissolve into the darkness. In the pale pool of lamplight, the grotto walls shimmered with droplets of water.

He stretched and traced the tips of his fingers along the curve of Alessandra's hip. She stirred with a low murmur and slid her hand lower on his chest, but did not wake. Her face was softened by sleep, untouched by worry. As he feathered his lips to her brow, she hitched a little closer, her lovely mouth curling up at the comers.

Damnation, what was she hiding?

If only he could decipher her smile, her secrets.

Was she really a scheming thief, an unprincipled liar?
Her words said one thing, her body quite another. Perhaps it was hubris, but he could not believe in his heart she was really in league with Frederico Bellazoni. Not after their passionate lovemaking. There
had
to be some other explanation.

Jack gazed at the fringe of her lashes, black as midnight against the pallor of her skin. She had tried to put on a brave face, but fear was a hard emotion to hide. It was always there, just beneath the surface, subtly shading her every expression. As a soldier, he recognized it As a friend, he meant to slay it

If only she would let him.

She had come close—oh-so close—to confiding in him. However, he had let lust get in the way. Never a wise strategy. The heat of battle required a cool head.

Shifting his bare shoulders against the makeshift blanket of his coat Jack shot a rueful glance down the length of his nakedness, to the rumpled scrunch of his breeches tangled with damp leather and laces. Seeing the twisted folds of her shift clinging to her thighs sent a small stab of guilt through him. Alessandra deserved a less primitive setting for lovemaking. Candlelight and champagne, feather pillows and silk sheets, not hard rock and rough wool.

He should...

The sound of the thermal spring stirred an idea.

Sitting up, Jack slowly stripped off the rest of his clothing. "Alessandra," he murmured, his breath ruffling the strands of hair around her ear.

"Mmmm." Her voice was still smoky with sex.

As she turned, he could see the sweet curves of breasts limned in the flickering lamplight Feel their imprint against his skin. His palms prickled, itching to touch her again.

It took all of his willpower to keep himself under control.

Her eyes fluttered open, embarrassment slowly darkening the emerald glitter.

"Lift your arms, sweetheart" He had already untied the fastenings of her shift and was sliding it up over her head.

"Jack."
She tried to pull away.

Tossing aside the crumpled cotton, he took her hand. "Come. When in Rome..." He let out a husky laugh as ' his bare feet slipped on the wet stones. Three quick strides brought them to the edge of the pool.

The wet warmth of the steam was intensely erotic against his skin. A froth of silvery bubbles rose up from the depths of the dark water. The effect was enchanting. Like a cauldron of simmering magic. Which was apt, as he intended to cast a spell that would coax her into revealing her secrets.

After dipping a toe to test the temperature, Jack plunged into the water. He surfaced and shook the hair back from his face. "Come on, it's lovely!" he urged.

Alessandra hesitated, her arms folded shyly across her thighs. "We should be getting back, before anyone discovers—"'

He grabbed her ankle and pulled her in.

The splash echoed off the walls, melding a moment later with her sputtering mirth.

"Oh, you wicked,
wicked
man," she cried, water streaming down her face as she blew out a mouthful of silvery spray. With her hair falling in sleek, sinuous curls around her shoulders, she looked like one of Neptune's nereids, a mythical sea sprite rising from the inky depths.

He pulled her close, their naked bodies kissing up against each other in a swirl of heat Waves lapped around them, the sound like lush, liquid laughter. Fire pooled in his groin. "I've not begun to be truly wicked," he murmured.

Her arms looped around his neck, a soft slap of warm, wet flesh. Jack felt her chest heave, her muscles tighten. But when she spoke, her voice was suddenly drained of all emotion. "While I have been wicked enough for several lifetimes," she whispered. "I—I must go..."

Jack silenced her words with a hard, possessive kiss. Holding back her protest, he spun them around in the water and set her back against the edge of the pool. The ancient stones were smooth as glass beneath his palms. He gripped the rounded lip, trapping her within his arms.

"I'm not letting you escape, sweetheart." Jack released her mouth a little roughly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head, evading his gaze.

"I was often put in charge of interrogating prisoners during the war," he rasped. "Trust me, there are myriad ways of eliciting information." He ran his tongue along the edge of her lower lip. "Some are more pleasant than others."

Her look of longing quickly disappeared in despair.

"Alessandra." He pressed a kiss to the pulsing point of flesh at the base of her throat

A moan reverberated against his lips. "You must think me a whore. And I suppose I am." Her voice broke. "If only I had listened to my brain and not my body back then."

"I think it's time to tell me everything," he said softly. "You have no reason to keep anything hidden."

"Stripped of all pretenses?" She gave a mirthless laugh. "I—I fear it will break this fragile peace between us."

"Friendship is not fragile, Alessandra. It can suffer through all sorts of hardships and adversity and emerge unscathed."

"I
—I cannot ask you to be my friend."

"Why not?" he demanded.

She looked away. "Because I couldn't bear to see the look of disgust on your face if I told you the truth."

"Have you so little faith in me?" he asked softly. Skimming his hands up the length of her arms, Jack began massaging the knotted muscles of her shoulder, slowly working his fingers to the nape of her neck. Her wet hair tangled in his touch and along with the earthy musk of the mineral water rose the scent of her spice. Her wonderful, womanly essence.

"Whatever you have done, it is not beyond redemption."

Oh, how she wished to believe that.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Alessandra choked back a sob. His touch was so strong, so soothing. Impossible as it seemed, the tension started to drain from her body. She felt weightless, her body floating in some underworld paradise. Not heaven, not hell.

She wasn't sure what to call it.

The word 'love' came to mind, but she thrust it aside. She couldn't—wouldn't—taint his honor with her sins. Better he should think her a whore than a murderess.

In the gently swirling water, she felt the rise and fall of his stiffening cock against her thigh. She must wield her body as a weapon. Tempt him, tease him—-anything to fight off his questions.

"No, I am a bad girl," she murmured, jutting out her hips and rubbing against him.

His lids grew heavy, hooding his eyes in dark, unfathomable shadows.

"How bad?" he asked.

"Very bad," responded Alessandra, opening her legs and letting them float up around his hips. "Very,
very
bad."

"One has to be extra firm with bad prisoners." His voice was deceptively mild. "Otherwise, they might suddenly turn dangerous."

"Si."
She tilted herself a fraction higher and clenched her knees. "Dangerous. You must know ways to subdue such impulses."

"Lots. Sometimes the situation calls for a subtle approach. And sometimes it's best to use a straightforward show of power." The head of his erection nudged into her feminine folds.

A current of awareness thrummed through her body. His closeness stirred unspeakable needs. Impossible longings.

He was now inside her passage, filling her with his heat

Alessandra bit his shoulder to keep from crying aloud. The salty sweetness of his skin mingled with the taste of her tears. Slowly, silently, they surged together, their rhythm as elemental as the ocean tides.
Ebb and flow.
The only sounds were the seductive splashing of water and the zephyrous bubbling of steamy vapors.

Her need crested and then climaxed in a burst of shimmering light Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body. She heard his shout, and felt him fill her with his essence.

If only she could float forever in this watery idyll, hidden from the present and safe from her past

But dreams could not keep the real world at bay. After an interlude of peaceful bliss, Jack raised his head. Perhaps if he had spoken in English, the words would not have had the same effect. But his sensual mouth quirked and he whispered a sonnet from Dante.

"It wounds me that you have so little faith in me, Alessandra," he added. "And my word of honor to stand as your friend, no matter what"

She could not bear to see the look of hurt in his eyes. "It is not your honor I question, but rather my own. But you are right I owe you the truth—on one condition. If what I tell you is too terrible to accept, you must consider yourself released from your word and walk away."

He nodded gravely.

Alessandra shivered in spite of the water's warmth. "I..." Might as well spill it out she decided. "I murdered someone. In Italy. That is why I fled the country."

Jack's face remained impassive. "I imagine you had a compelling reason. I can't quite picture you killing for the mere thrill of it"

"That's the horror of it" she whispered. "I didn't Have a reason, that is. It was a horrible mistake."

A tiny furrow formed between his brows. "That is not murder—"

"It was!" she insisted, her voice turning a little shrill.

"I
knew
Frederico was engaged in violence, yet I let him seduce me into helping him."

"Bellazoni was involved?"

Alessandra couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "Yes. He was a protege' of my late husband. Stefano admired his oratory and his zeal, even though he didn't agree with Frederico's ideas." She sucked in a breath. "After Stefano died, I let myself fall under the spell of Frederico's radical views. He and his friends spoke so passionately about freedom, and the need to fight for liberty and justice."

"Such idealism is hardly a crime, Alessandra," said Jack. "Those are noble principles."

"Yes, in theory. But Frederico twisted them into an excuse for violence against the Austrian occupying force in Milan." She took a moment to steady her voice. "I was such a fool, Jack. I... I let him into my bed. Just once, as if that makes it any less reprehensible."

His arms came around her, drawing her close. "You must have been frightened. And lonely."

"That doesn't excuse my lapse in judgment," she said. "I should have seen him for the snake he was."

"Your husband considered him a friend, and from what I gather, Stefano was not a fool." Jack brushed a bead of water from her cheek. "Now, tell me about the murder."

"Frederico knew all about my work with metals, of course. He asked me to make up an acid in my laboratory. Something strong enough to cut through the locks of an Austrian warehouse. I did it, even though I had vowed to myself that I wouldn't be part of their plans anymore. This was the last time."

"And?" encouraged Jack.

"And instead of opening a lock with the acid, Frederico used it to cut through the axle of an Austrian official's carriage while he was stopped at an inn near Como. There was a steep hill, leading down to a bridge spanning a river gorge. The driver managed to throw himself off the perch when the wheels snapped off, but the official plunged to his death. His mangled body was pulled out of the water the next day, along with the remains of the vehicle. The woodwork was shattered beyond recognition, but the evidence of foul play with the iron axle was clear-cut."

"Christ Almighty, Alessandra—you must not blame yourself. You are innocent of murder," he growled.

"Innocent," she echoed "Oh, Jack, you did not see the man's wife and young daughter weeping as the soldiers carried his broken corpse up from the rocks."

"I have seen more man my share of death and destruction," he replied. "So much of war causes senseless suffering. You, too, are a victim."

She hung her head. "No, I cannot shrug off responsibility for my actions. I knew it was wrong, yet rather than listen to my conscience, I did it anyway."

Jack set his strong, graceful hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "Look at me, Alessandra."

Her chin lifted.

"Stop torturing yourself. Yes, you made a mistake. But that does not make you a murderer. It's Bellazoni who is the guilty party." His mouth compressed. "I take it he's using the past to coerce you into helping him steal some treasure from this site."

BOOK: To Surrender to a Rogue
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