Читать книгу Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress - Michelle Celmer - Страница 8

When Selene crossed through the “angel arena” on the way to her room, an eerie feeling slowed her steps on her ascent up the spiral staircase. As she turned the corner into the dark corridor, her heart immediately jumped into her throat. A few feet away, Adrien stood in the hallway, dressed in a steel-gray shirt and black slacks, one shoulder leaned against the wall, hands firmly planted in his pockets. He was as stone-still as the statue behind him, although he had much more physical appeal.

Selene planned to send him a polite greeting and goodnight before she retired to her room. But before she could even utter a word, he said, “Going to bed already?”

His voice was low and provocative, but then so was he. A sullen stranger set in shadows. The light was muted, but at least now she could fully appreciate the details of a face that could have been sculpted by the angels keeping vigil nearby. No horrid disfigurement. No mask of death. No real innocence, either, especially when it came to his eyes. Those deadly cut-glass blue eyes that he kept trained on her while she simply stood there as if in a trance.

Again Selene hugged her arms to her middle and finally snapped out of her stupor. “I’ve had a busy day,” she said. “I’m tired.”

He pushed off the wall but kept a safe distance. “Too tired for a little adventure?”

The question shook Selene’s waning calm so strongly she couldn’t speak for a few moments. “What kind of adventure?”

He took a slow step toward her. “Ella told me you’re interested in the history of this house. I have something that might satisfy you.”

His emphasis on satisfy shook her up even more. “What exactly would that be?”

“I could tell you, but I’d prefer to show you.”

Selene checked her watch, more out of nervousness than true concern with the time. Although it was barely past nine, she said, “It is getting late.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’d lowered his voice a notch and Selene responded with a slight shiver. A pleasant one that was both unexpected and inadvisable. “Where exactly would we be going for this adventure?”

He nodded toward the opposite end of the corridor. “To my office.”

An office seemed relatively safe, but could she really be safe around him? She had two options—to trust him or use her gift to sift through his thoughts. She opened her mind briefly, but came up with nothing. No visions of him holding her hostage or doing her bodily harm. At least not yet.

“Lead the way.” The words spilled out of her mouth without any further consideration. If she really intended to work for him, she had to give him some of her trust, unless he proved he didn’t deserve it. And hopefully not after it was too late for her to turn back.

She followed him down the hall, past the stairway and into the wing Ella had described to her during the initial tour, a place she had yet to explore. They passed by the closed door leading to the nursery, Selene presumed. When they reached another door adjacent to that, Adrien opened it and stepped aside for her to enter.

The large office was thoroughly modern, from the solid oak desk lit by a lone lamp to the computer sitting on a counter in the corner. Several binders were stacked neatly in an in-box and a silver canister housed various pens. Everything in its place and not at all what Selene had expected. But at least the room was sufficiently cool. In fact, it was cooler than most of the house, thanks to that modern convenience known as a window unit. Might have been nice if someone had bothered to install them everywhere.

When she heard the door close behind her, Selene fought the urge to spin around and display some serious panic. For all intents and purposes, she was trapped. He could do with her what he wanted and she doubted Ella would hear a single cry of distress.

Still, she wasn’t getting any strange vibes or sense of looming disaster. When she faced him, she did get the full effect of Adrien’s slight smile. The first she’d witnessed so far. “What do you want to show me?”

He slid his hands into his pockets again and looked much more relaxed than she felt. “A journal.”

Selene had learned nothing was of more value in recreating the past than personal writings. “Where is it?” she asked, her tone revealing her enthusiasm over the discovery.

Adrien crossed the room to his right, opened a door and flipped on a light. “Up here.”

Selene moved closer to see a dimly lit, narrow staircase and made a mental note to have someone replace all the low-wattage bulbs in the house as soon as possible. She took a mental step back when she realized she would have to accompany her employer into a remote area. “It looks like you might find a bat or two up there.” She’d said it with humor to mask her wariness.

He hinted at another smile. “No bats, but maybe a few spiders.”

“Lovely.”

He studied her for a moment. “Are you afraid of spiders, Selene?”

Insects had never been her best friends, but she wasn’t exactly arachnophobic. “No. As long as they keep their distance.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

A very good question, one that Selene needed to seriously ponder. “Any reason why I should be?”

“Not at all.”

He sounded convincing to Selene, but could she really believe him? She could usually rely on her instincts, though, and they were telling her he had no plans to injure her. As far as any other plans went—questionable plans—she supposed she would have to take her chances and keep a firm grip on self-control.

She made a sweeping gesture toward the staircase. “After you.”

He took the first step and when she hung back, he shifted slightly and offered his hand. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

Selene wasn’t all that concerned with falling. Years of ballet lessons had cured her of any serious clumsiness. But she was concerned about touching him again. Concerned that she might experience another blow to her senses. Yet instead of insisting on managing without his help, she reached out and accepted his offered hand. This time, the contact sent a rush of heat coursing through her body, as if she were being warmed from the inside out. The sensation was overwhelming and as they started to ascend the stairs, it only grew more intense. He glanced back at her now and then with eyes as blue as the ceiling in the rotunda. By the time they reached the top, Selene was both winded and very, very warm, even when he released his grasp on her.

The landing opened into another room, this one smaller with a narrow shelf housing volumes of aged books. In the corner sat a mahogany pedestal desk, and a lone straight-backed chair covered in red satin. The area was dusty, the ceiling draped with a few cobwebs, but other than that, it didn’t look at all menacing. At least where bats and bugs were concerned.

“At one time this was the gargonniere,” Adrien said as he remained at her side. “The original bachelor’s quarters, probably used by a previous owner.”

But obviously not used by Adrien, Selene thought. “Your grandfather?”

He forked a hand through his hair. “No. Giles wasn’t one to stay in the same place for very long. He had a solid case of wanderlust. I inherited that from him.”

She sent him a smile. “You’re inclined to travel, I take it.”

“Not in a while.” He strolled to the bookshelves then faced her again. “I’ve been all over the world. Europe. Africa. Central America. Mostly off the beaten path. Spain is one of my favorite spots.”

She walked to the desk and leaned against it. “Don’t tell me. You’ve run with the bulls in Pamplona.”

“Actually, no. I would be more inclined to root for the bulls since I believe that animals sometimes have more merit than humans.”

A point in his favor, Selene decided. “So you’re a thrill seeker as long as it doesn’t involve cruelty to animals.”

“At one time, yes.”

He looked and sounded regretful, and that only served to spur Selene’s interest. “I’ve been to Europe several times,” she said to break the brief span of uncomfortable silence. “Mostly London. The usual tourist spots.”

He rested one elbow on the edge of the shelf. “Ever done any cliff diving in Mexico?”

She laughed. “I’m not fond of heights.”

“Ever stood on a deserted beach, naked, and watched the sun come up?”

Only in her wildest dreams. “I’m afraid not.”

“You should experience it at some point in time.”

Little did he know, he’d taken her there through his recollections, images that were too strong to bar from her mind. She experienced the salty breeze blowing over her bare skin and the sun on her face, smelled the scents of the sea, felt his palms forming to her waist, curving over her abdomen and lower ….

Forcing herself out of his fantasy, she turned her attention to the shelves to avoid his steady gaze. “I’ve often wondered what it would have been like to live years ago, when times were less complex and modern conveniences were nonexistent.”

“I’ve been in places where you had to rely solely on nature,” he said. “It’s a rush.”

Selene decided his deep, steady voice was a rush. “I’m too old and set in my ways to rough it too much.”

He inclined his head and narrowed his eyes to assess her. “You’re what, maybe late twenties?”

“Thirty-two. And you?”

“Thirty-five. How old were you when you married?”

Obviously he knew much more about her than she knew about him. “Twenty-four. I’ve been divorced for a year.”

He paced the room’s perimeter, glancing at her now and then, as if he were some wild, agitated creature of the night assessing his quarry. “Seven years, just in time for that proverbial itch.”

“You could definitely say that.”

He stopped and leaned back against the shelves a few feet away from her. “Did that itch include both of you?”

As much as she wanted to know Adrien better, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. Drudging up her past with Richard always made her ill at ease. “Maybe you could show me the journal now.”

“If that’s what you want.”

He headed straight for her with slow, stalking steps and Selene’s gaze immediately tracked to his mouth, the softness of his lips that contrasted with the rigid set of his jaw, the slight cleft in his chin. All too late she realized he’d noticed her interest when he showed some semblance of another smile. Knowing. Sensual.

When he reached the desk, Selene stifled a catch of breath even though he passed by her. She regarded him over her shoulder to see him opening a drawer and withdrawing a small black journal that had seen better days. Olden days, she would guess.

Adrien rounded the desk and offered it to her. “I’ve marked the place that might interest you.”

She took the diary, opened it where a pale pink satin ribbon indicated the spot and noted the date at the top of the page—July 1875. But before she could scan the faded script, Adrien said, “Read it out loud.”

She turned her attention from the page to him. “You haven’t read it?”

“Yes, I have. But I want to hear your voice.”

His voice was so indisputably sensuous, so compelling that Selene couldn’t think of one argument. She turned and laid the journal open on the desk while he began pacing the room once more. After clearing her throat, she began to read.

“‘This afternoon, I again met Z. at the abandoned sharecropper’s cabin near the swamp at his plantation. Should my father discover I am keeping company with his enemy, he would be furious. If he knew what I have done, he would surely kill him.’”

Selene paused and glanced back at Adrien to find him no more than a foot away. “Who wrote this?”

“I don’t know. I came across it one day a few months ago.”

“I’m wondering if maybe the woman named Grace in the portrait downstairs is the author.”

“That’s possible,” he said. “Keep going.”

Selene went back to the journal, driven by her need to know more about the unidentified author’s rendezvous. “‘I have given freely of my affections to Z., accepted his stolen kisses. He spoke to me about the ways between a man and a woman, and told me things that any proper lady would never consider. Yet I listened, and then I begged him to show me.’”

Again she glanced back at Adrien only to discover he’d moved closer. “I’m feeling a bit like a voyeur.”

“I think it’s an interesting commentary on the mores of the past,” he said. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, hand it to me and I’ll read it.”

She noted the challenge in his tone, and she intended to answer it. After all, they were both adults, and she highly doubted anything written in this journal would compare to what was featured in modern literature in terms of sexuality. “I’ll do it.”

After drawing in a deep breath, she turned her attention back to the journal entry. “‘In Z.’s arms, I am a wanton. I barely recognize myself. I allowed him to lower my chemise, allowed him to touch my breasts. Never before have I experienced such pleasure. Never before have I been so open or so free. I wanted more. I wanted all that he could give me.’”

Selene’s words faltered when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. Adrien’s hand. As his fingertips idled over her bare arm, she tried to ignore the rhythmic, enticing motion. Tried to disregard the frisson of pleasure brought about by his touch. “Continue,” he whispered. “It only gets better.”

Good judgment failed Selene and so did her resolve to avoid this very thing. “‘He lifted my skirt and slid his hand beneath my drawers. He touched my most secret place, touched me in ways I had never imagined. My body was no longer mine. It belonged to him …’”

Adrien chose that moment to slide his hand down Selene’s hip, brushing her pelvis briefly before settling his palm on her lower abdomen. She studied his golden skin against her white slacks, the width of his hand, his blunt fingers. He moved completely against her, his solid chest meeting her back.

She only had enough strength to close the journal and mutter, “That’s enough for now.” But she didn’t push his hand away. Didn’t scold him. Didn’t move.

“It’s not enough.”

As if he’d bound her with invisible twine and gave it a tug, she slowly turned to face him. She knew exactly what he planned to do when the image flashed in her mind a split second before he lowered his head.

The minute Adrien’s mouth met hers, Selene stepped into a sensory minefield, bombarded by his subtle, clean scent, the taste of scotch on his lips, the suggestive foray of his tongue against hers. And suddenly it seemed she’d melted into his body, into his soul, experiencing his pleasure as well as her own. Because of this psychic communion, she also knew he needed more from her, wanted more from her.

Still, she had no desire to escape him, no will left to fight. No cause to loosen the grasp she now had on his shoulders even though she’d lost all grip on reality. But the mental as well as the physical connection ended when he stepped back and scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

“My apologies,” he said. “I forgot myself for a few minutes.”

As far as Selene was concerned, he hadn’t forgotten a thing. The kiss had been part of a carefully crafted plan of seduction, and she’d walked right into his trap without a moment’s hesitation.

She reached back, picked up the journal from the desk and tapped it against her open palm. “I’m going to read the rest of this later, and we’ll forget what just happened.”

He backed up a few steps and hid his hands in pockets again. “Go ahead and try to forget it.”

I won’t ….

His thought came to Selene as sharp as a dagger, traveled along the mental passage connecting her mind with his. “We need to maintain a professional relationship.”

He brandished his grin like a pirate wielding a sword, cutting her determination to shreds. “A little late for that.”

All heaven and hell might break loose if she didn’t escape that instant. Self-preservation sent her to the door, clutching the journal to her chest. “I’m going to my room now.”

“One more thing, Selene.”

The soft sound of her name sliding from his lips acted on her like a potent magnet, drawing her around to face him, where she found him holding out a cardboard tube. “What’s that?”

“The plans for the house.”

She moved only close enough to take the tube from his grasp. “Thank you.”

“And let me set you straight on something. I didn’t hire you. Ella did. As far as I’m concerned, you work for her, not me. Which means we don’t have a professional relationship. In fact, if I’d had my way, you would already be gone.”

Selene was so incredulous she almost couldn’t speak. “Is that what this whole thing is all about? You’re trying to drive me away?”

“In the beginning, yes. But not now. Not any longer. I’ve decided I like having you here.”

Without responding, Selene turned, sprinted down the narrow steps and kept a fast pace until she reached the safety of her bedroom. But she feared she might never be safe as long as she lived under the same roof with him.

As she readied for bed, her thoughts kept turning to the absolute bliss she’d experienced in his arms. Too many years had passed since a man had touched her that way, or kissed her with such command.

Looking for a distraction, Selene climbed into bed and opened the diary to the place where she’d left off earlier.

We met again today at the cabin although I realized the risk in that. Yet I could not stay away from Z. He kissed me again and again, and I trembled with pleasure. I craved his touch. He then took my hand and placed it against his trousers where I felt his hardness. He said that when he was certain I was ready, he would join his body to mine. I insisted I was ready, I pleaded with him to show me. At first he denied me, but when I opened my arms to him, it was as if I had unleashed something wild in him, my sweet, gentle Z. He tore away his clothes and removed mine before laying me back on the cot to fill my body. I experienced some pain, as he told me I would, but the pain did not compare to the pleasure.

I knew in those moments I was forever his. I knew that no matter what the future held, he would always be mine. But I fear our time might end in terrible ways after today, for as I left the cabin, I saw one of my father’s field hands lurking in the swamp, and knew I had been caught. I have no idea what fate awaits me and my lover when my father returns from Savannah tomorrow. I only know that whatever happens, every moment I have spent in Z.’s arms will have been worth it. He is my all. My one true love.

Disappointed to find the journal ended with that passage, Selene closed the diary, turned down the light and tried to sleep. She thought about the mysterious lovers and questioned how a man could have so much power over a woman that she would risk it all to be with him. Perhaps even risk her own life.

No doubt about it, Adrien Morrell had cast his spell over Selene. Now it was up to her to break free, before she, too, found herself caught in the clutches of obsession and allowed him to do anything he pleased.

She was quickly becoming his obsession.

Adrien knew all about obsession. Possession. Once he set a plan in motion, be it business or pleasure, he dove in with dogged determination until he got what he wanted. And he wanted her.

Tonight had been a first step toward his goal. A good step. He’d expected her to resist him a little more, but instead she had responded to his kiss with surprising enthusiasm. Unfortunately, even that minimal contact had set him on fire.

After stripping out of all his clothes, he downed the last bit of scotch, set the glass aside and walked to the double doors leading outside. He parted the curtains to see if Selene had ventured onto the veranda, as she had the other night. He found only an empty balcony to match the emptiness in his soul.

He shut off the lights, stretched out on his back across the bed and ran a slow hand down his abdomen. Knowing Selene was only a few steps away made him harder than he’d been in some time. Had him gritting his teeth and firming his resolve not to go to her. He wouldn’t do that until he had an invitation. And he expected to have one, signed, sealed and delivered, very soon.

Right now, he would do whatever he had to do to keep his need for her in check—until the time was right.

He sat motionless at the end of the veranda in the same wicker sofa he’d occupied when Selene had first met him. The full moon cast his imposing frame in bluish light, yet it failed to soften his features, particularly his eyes. Those spellbinding eyes that he kept aimed on her. He looked every bit the stoic king holding court. A dark king.

Totally entranced, Selene maintained her distance a few feet away, watching, waiting. Waiting for him to speak, to move. To say her name.

Like a practiced hypnotist, he called to her simply with his gaze and a slight nod of his head. She effortlessly walked toward him, her mind caught in a fog, her lungs all but absent of air. She noticed immediately the lack of noise— no rustling breeze, no sounds from the swamp below. Not even the chirp of a cricket. Although she found that odd, she kept moving forward until she stood before him. She also realized he was completely nude—and aroused.

Though he didn’t utter a word, she recognized exactly what he wanted. As if bankrupt of free will, she clasped the hem of her gown, pulled it over her head and dropped it onto the ground beside her. Without the least bit of hesitation, she reached out and took his extended hand, allowed him to position her thighs on either side of his thighs. She released a soundless sigh when he lifted her up, then guided himself inside her. The sensations were potent, indescribable. She wanted more, needed more. Needed him to alleviate the dull ache, erase all the years of disappointment. Yet when he failed to move, she knew what he was asking of her. Knew that he waited for her to move first. She began a steady cadence and, in that moment, she became a woman she didn’t recognize. An uninhibited woman who strived to please him, as well as herself, as he joined her in reckless abandon.

Still, there was no noise, no sounds of broken breaths, no quiet moans of satisfaction. Only absolute silence. Selene could feel the beat of her heart, the flutter of her pulse, the pressure beginning to build as she hurled toward a climax. Then Adrien stopped moving altogether and buried his face in the cleft of her breasts.

She wanted to ask why he had stopped, but she couldn’t speak. She could only lift his head and force him to look at her. Again she saw his utter pain immediately before his face began to blur and fade completely, followed by a flash of white light that blinded her.

Selene forced her eyes open and bolted upright. She wasn’t on the veranda, or outside at all. She was in bed.

Frantically she searched the darkened room, only to discover she was completely alone. She patted her body to find her gown was still intact. Obviously she’d been dreaming. A very detailed dream that had seemed so very, very real.

Then awareness dawned. No, not a dream at all. A fantasy.

His fantasy.

Selene collapsed back onto the mattress and rolled to her side, taking the spare pillow and slipping it between her knees. Adrien had unwittingly invaded her mind, bringing with him erotic images that she wouldn’t soon forget. She couldn’t comprehend why she was so open to his thoughts, or why those thoughts were so strong that they would disrupt her sleep. She also found it amazing that he would imagine her to be so unrestrained. If he knew that wasn’t her normal self, would he still want her? She also recognized what he had been doing, because she had experienced all the sensations that he had through this wondrous, disturbing connection they now shared. Yet something had caused him to pull back, to stop before reaching the release he’d obviously been seeking.

Another bright flare of light drew Selene’s attention toward the curtained doors, and so did the shadowy figure moving across the veranda. A storm was brewing on the horizon, and someone was outside her room. She suspected she knew the identity of that someone. Still, she had to know, had to confirm that before she could rest.

On wobbly legs, she left the bed, tiptoed to the doors and opened the curtains ever so slightly. She discovered him standing at the railing only a few feet away staring off into the distance, his arms crossed on the ledge, his leg bent at the knee, his foot propped on the bottom rail. The occasional flash of lightning revealed the finer points of his form turned slightly profile to her—beautifully naked and a wonder to behold. A steady rain began to fall and still he didn’t move, seemingly unconcerned with the light show playing out above him. Rivulets of water gathered on his skin and slid down his body—over the coil of muscle on his bicep, down the path of his spine and the curve of his buttocks. He turned his face up, slicked both hands through his hair and let the rain wash over him, as if engaged in some kind of cleansing ritual.

Selene continued to be transfixed by the image he created against the turbulent skies … until he looked back at her. As if he’d ordained it, another bolt of lightning illuminated his face.

In that moment, she noted the flash of remorse in his beautiful face. She also saw the hunger in his eyes. The desire. And Selene feared she saw something else she might not welcome. Her destiny.