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."