A Curse of the Heart by Adele Clee Read Free Book Online

if he had his way. He would have her married and settled in the country, away from Society’s prying eyes, hidden away from his real family.
    “I’m not leaving this house, Mr. Stone,” she said, squaring her shoulders, as nothing would sway her decision.
    He took a step closer, towering above her, his broad chest casting everything else into shadow. “You will do as I say. And stop calling me Mr. Stone.”
    Rebecca thrust her hands on her hips, her mind filled with a loathing for all men who sort to rob her of her free will.
    “What would you have me call you — papa? My father is dead, Mr. Stone, and I do not need a replacement.”
    He muttered a curse. “I am trying to help you, or have you forgotten that a man has been lurking in your storeroom for over a week.” He stabbed his finger towards the offending room as though parrying with a sword, each thrust more menacing than the last.
    “And I thank you for your help, sir, but you’ve fulfilled your pledge to me, to my father or to whatever contrived notion of honour you managed to concoct.”
    He reeled from the last remark, the imagined punch weakening his hard stance.
    “As you rightly said, there is no curse,” she continued, determined to show him she was in control, “and so now I shall deal with the matter myself.”
    He made an odd puffing sound. “Do you think me the sort of man to simply walk away?”
    Something sparked and crackled in the air between them: an undefinable force that excited the senses. Her thoughts shifted to those strong arms, to those soft, full lips and she tried to find the strength to condemn her traitorous mind to the gallows.
    “You’re the sort of man who leaves a lady to sit outside on your steps. You’re the sort of man who takes pleasure in exerting control, the sort of man happy to call a lady a liar and a thief.” Rebecca regretted the words as soon as they’d left her lips, but she could not reclaim them.
    His dark brows arched mischievously. “I should be offended,” he said, and his deep voice sent a ripple of awareness right through her. “Indeed, I am offended. If that’s your assessment of my character, perhaps I should add another transgression to the list.”
    As soon as he moistened his lips, she knew what he was he was going to do.
    “If you’re thinking of kissing me, then do it, Mr. Stone.” Her tone was strong and firm as she laid down the challenge while her mind was a wreck of fragmented thoughts scattered about a desolate shore.
    “Gabriel,” he whispered as he lowered his head. “My name is Gabriel.”
     
    Just one taste, he thought, just once, just to satisfy the craving burning inside him.
    It took every ounce of control he had not to ravage her mouth. But he wanted to prolong this moment, wanted to see if it was everything he imagined it to be.
    He brushed her lips gently at first, a slow melding of mouths that held a wealth of promise. She did not pull away, and although she lacked experience in such matters, she met him with equal curiosity.
    When his hand drifted up to caress her nape, the first pretty sigh left her lips and then he was lost. His tongue traced the line where her lips met, and she let him into her mouth, warm and wet, let him coax and tease. The need to taste her, to possess her, to sate this craving, caused his desire to spiral. He almost growled when her untutored tongue met his with a need that matched his own.
    His fingers drifted down from her nape, down the curve of her back and he pulled her to his chest. The feel of her soft breasts pressed against him stoked the fire raging within. Then he lost focus, carried along on a wave of lustful passion, their tongues lost in each other mouths, his manhood hard and throbbing with need.
    It was as though she had a magical ability to be everywhere all at once. The smell of lavender filled his head, and some other exotic scent specific to her. He could taste claret, mingled with the potent trace of desire. He could hear