Free Wanton Angel (Blackthorne Trilogy) by Shirl Henke Page A

the cool water and knelt, dipping his head beneath the surface and scrubbing milk and mud from his hair. “Brrr, is it always so chilly?”
           “They say it comes from deep underground,” Beth replied.
           He could see the pointed tips of her nipples through the soft cloth clinging to her breasts and his mouth went dry. “There are ways I could warm you up,” he suggested.
           “But, sir, I am not cold,” she replied, skimming her arm across the water and splashing him.
           He blinked his eyes to clear them, then went after her with a growl. “I’ll teach you, minx—or is it otter?” he added as she slipped smoothly from his grasp and splashed him once more.
           They laughed and played until they were breathless, tumbling around in the water until he finally subdued her, pinning her arms to her sides as they knelt, submerged almost to their shoulders. All laughter died. He lowered his mouth to hers as she tipped back her head, raising her face for his kiss. His thigh slid between her legs and hers clamped around it, clinging with strong, sleek muscles. He released her arms and ran his hands down to cup and lift her buttocks as her fingers dug into his back, urging him closer.
           The tittering of a small boy finally interrupted them. Breathing hard, they broke apart, looking over at the urchin, who grinned and chattered at them in rapid Italian.
           “What is he saying?” Derrick asked, the local idiom still impossible for him to completely decipher.
           “He's asking if we would like a place to be alone. He has a very nice house just down the Via San Luca.”
           “What is he charging?” Derrick asked with a rakish grin.
           “Not nearly enough for it to be up to your standards, I'm certain,” she replied.
           “Well, in that case, you can always consider my original offer and return with me to my apartments.”
           “I'm hungry,” she announced suddenly, standing up.
           “So am I and well you know it.” He watched as she wrung the water from her hair and her clothing, then attempted to straighten herself.
           “I mean for food,” she replied impatiently.
           Sighing, he followed her from the fountain to a stall where a pretty young woman was taking sizzling hot rounds of flat bread from an oven using a long wooden paddle. The bread was topped with chopped tomato, anchovy and cheese. “That does smell good,” he conceded.
           They bought two of the scalding hot pizza pies, as they were called, transferring them from hand to hand to keep from burning themselves until the bread cooled enough to eat it. “This is one of my favorite things about Italy,” she said, wiping a string of cheese from her chin.
           “Unusual,” he conceded, taking another hearty bite.
           “Delicious. Admit it.”
           “Not half as delicious as you,” he replied.
           “But you haven't tasted me yet.”
           “True, only an hors d'oeuvre or two,” he teased. “Just enough to whet my appetite.”
           “And after you have had the entree, then what, Derrick? Will I become table scraps?” Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious.
     
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
           Derrick stopped and looked directly into her eyes. “Table scraps? My fear is that I shall never have my fill of you, Beth.” He had not planned to say that, but now that he'd blurted it out, he realized that it was true. No, there was something about Beth Blackthorne that touched a part of him no one had reached before.
           His expression was almost grave. He looks surprised. He did not expect to say what he said! She felt the most pleasurable rush of...of triumph surge through her. To cover her own reaction, Beth started strolling again. “Ah, easily enough said after less than two days'