Free Falcon's Angel by Danita Minnis Page B

detective have any correct information at all? There was one thing he had been right about and she couldn’t figure out how he had known; Giovanni had given her the Stradivarius. Did the hand of the polizia stretch so far across the English Channel? It was highly unlikely, but now for the first time she wondered about the violin’s history.
    When she entered the apartment, Tony was in the living room playing his digital piano, which faced the piazza. With the headset on, he wouldn’t have heard her come in, but he must have seen her from the window.
    Tony took off the headset. “Hey, beautiful, how was lunch?” In his leisurely stroll, he walked over to her barefoot with arms open. He took in her outfit with a slow smile, his eyes roving over her ankle-strap pumps and ending at the gold satin blouse.
    “It was good.” The sight of him calmed her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face in his chest. His warm scent mixed with the smell of fresh clothes out of the dryer and she breathed him in. He smelled like home to her. She felt safe with him.
    He could not be what the detective claimed.
    Tony lifted her hair to nuzzle her neck. “You look good, you smell good. You must taste good.” His tongue traveled up her neck and he nipped her earlobe.
    “I missed you.” She thought about telling him of the detective, but didn’t want to relive the ugly scene that had taken place in il Ducato . Tonight she just wanted him to hold her.
    Tony pulled back. He already knew her so well. “Is everything okay? You’re so tense.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. They left goose bumps in their wake, and longing.
    “I’m just glad to be home, with you.” She kissed him.
    Tony gathered her in his arms, and slowly walked her backward until she was up against the apartment door.
    “How glad, Bella?” His tender kiss further eased her tension as his hand traveled under her gold skirt.
    In answer, she spread her legs and pulled him closer. In her pumps, she was just the height to reach his lips. She melted into him while his hand gave her a sensual massage below.
    He unzipped his jeans, and she felt the air on her bare wetness when he lifted her up and brought her down on him.
    She wrapped her legs around him and closed her eyes. He was hot and full and she gave herself over to him, needing this, to be soothed with his passion that made her forget everything else.
    He thrust into her, driving her up the door with each stroke. While he took her there against the polished wood, she moaned softly. His thrusts came faster. She felt the raw power of him between her legs, welcomed his undeniable possession of her mind and body. He lifted her spirit, took her above her fears.
    “Tony…” With pleasure painful in its intensity, her body convulsed around him.
    “My sweet Angel.” Tony impaled her one last time, lifting her up as he strained against her, and then shuddered in release.
    They stood panting against the door until their breathing returned to normal.
    But he had not had enough of her. It seemed that he never would. He carried her into the bedroom for more.
    * * * *
    The air in her lungs was fire. It hurt to breathe.
    The gold crown molding on the ceiling dripped down onto the Aubusson carpet. The heat of the fire drove her backward to the balcony doors. She turned, looking out over the gardens that blazed brightly like some hellish parody of paradise.
    She could not get out that way. If the fall from the balcony didn’t kill her, the fire below would.
    An eerie wail of despair drifted up with the hot air into the thick black smoke that marred the beautiful blue of the summer sky.
    She realized she was screaming when black smoke choked her. Covering her mouth, she ran back into the room and over to the bedroom door. She clasped the doorknob, and then jerked her hand back with a cry of pain. She was nearly doubled over with a coughing fit as the poisonous air around her shimmered with heat. She