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

her little pants and moans, and he wanted to lay her down and drive into her over and over again until she clawed at his shoulders and cried out his name.
    “ Gabriel .”
    It took him a moment to realise she had whispered his name, the sound caressing his needy body like featherlight fingers. His hands moved lower, cupping her as he lifted her off her feet, pushing her back against the display cabinet.
    “Mr. Stone. The … the antiquities.”
    It was as though she had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over him, forcing him to open his eyes, to drag his mouth from hers. “Miss Linwood,” he panted, as his mind tried to assemble what had just happened. He lowered her down until her feet touched the floor and brushed the loose strands of hair off her face.
    They stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, their ragged breathing the only audible sound.
    He waited for the lump to form in his throat, for a pang of guilt to stab away at his chest, but it did not come. He wondered if he should ask for forgiveness, but he was not sorry. Watching her put her fingers to her swollen lips made him want to kiss her again.
    “Do you want to pretend that didn’t happen?” he said.
    In one respect, it would be easier if she said yes. It would be easier to forget how sweet she tasted, to forget she was able to penetrate the wall he’d erected. But the reality was, he would never forget how good it felt to hold her in his arms.
    “Do you?” she asked, her vivid green eyes fixated on his mouth.
    A smile threatened to form on his lips. “I believe I asked first.”
    She shrugged, and he could sense her inner torment as he suspected it mirrored his own. Perhaps honesty was the best way forward.
    “No, I don't want to pretend. And I am not sorry,” he said, his abdomen tightening when he looked at her flushed cheeks and mussed hair. “But it was a moment of madness, Miss Linwood, where I forgot my manners and my sense of honour, even if it is contrived.”
    “About that,” she said, looking down at the floor. “I did not mean what I said earlier. I did not mean —”
    “It doesn’t matter now,” he interrupted. “Besides, I must make allowances for your fragile state.” When he noticed the muscle in her jaw twitch, he added, “Upon finding an intruder in your home.”
    He was wrong to imply that the man hiding in the storeroom had an interest in the house. Whoever he was, he was only interested in frightening Miss Linwood.
    “Do you know what he was doing in there?”
    Gabriel shook his head. “He was hiding behind some boxes and waited for me to walk inside before darting for the door.”
    “I shall speak to Mr. Pearce in the morning. Perhaps he has noticed something untoward.”
    “Mr. Pearce?”
    “My curator.”
    Gabriel resisted the urge to tell her not to talk to anyone, not without him being present. Perhaps she was right. He was starting to think like an over-bearing parent. Why did he even care? He brushed his hand through his hair in an attempt to banish the feeling that, somehow, she had found a way through his barrier. He could still taste her on his lips, still smell the heady scent of her desire and still feel her soft, pliant body pressed against his.
    “Perhaps we could talk to Mr. Pearce together,” he suggested. “I cannot walk away from here until the matter has been dealt with.”
    And I must walk away, he added silently, as I could never be the man you would want me to be.
    “I understand,” she nodded. “You may call round before luncheon tomorrow.”
    “You mistake my intention,” he said firmly, amazed she would even consider going up to her room on her own after what had just happened. “I will not leave you here alone. I can stay, or you can come with me. I’m open to suggestions and will do whatever you think appropriate.” Just to reinforce his point, he added, “If you refuse, I shall be forced to sleep outside your front door.”
    Without a word, she turned away from him and