Awakened by a Kiss by Lila DiPasqua Read Free Book Online Page B

lax. Ecstasy hummed in his veins. Memories of their last encounter, years ago, materialized in his mind. It had been exactly the same—soul-satisfying sex.
    The night when you unwittingly took a virgin .
    The sexual fog dissipating little by little, he became aware of his harsh breathing, the light scent of jasmine that hung in the air, and her soft breasts crushed against his chest.
    Adrien eased his hold on her. She slumped against the door. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly swollen and parted. She had the prettiest blush to her cheeks. He brushed back a lock of her hair from her delicate brow. She looked like a woman who’d been well fucked and thoroughly sated.
    A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He took a small step back and glanced on the floor. His come was on her fallen drawers. Adrien kicked them out of the way, and wiping his glistening cock with his shirttails, he readjusted his clothing. Unlike his father, he took care not to make bastards.
    Catherine opened her eyes. At first she looked away, seemingly embarrassed, but then she straightened her spine and met his gaze.
    Lightly, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. How he loved the feel of her skin.
    Adrien felt mellow. He felt oddly content. He felt good.
    No, he felt great.
    “I’ve made a mess of your caleçons ,” he said. Not to mention he’d mussed her lovely hair and horribly wrinkled her gown.
    “It doesn’t matter.” Her voice was soft.
    His smile grew, pleased that she wasn’t put off.
    She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the . . . tumble.” She slid out from between him and the door and stepped away, her gown falling into place. “Please see yourself out.”
    Adrien felt as though cold water just splashed him in the face. Jésus-Christ , she’d dismissed him. As though he were a stud for hire.
    She didn’t get more than two steps away from him when he caught her arm. Her head snapped around. “We’re not through.” His ire mounted.
    Her fury flashed in her eyes. “You got what you wanted. Let go.”
    Stepping closer, he captured her chin and her undivided attention. She’d erected a wall between them again, and donned a false mask to conceal herself from him. He wanted it torn down. Stripped away. Wanted her naked both literally and figuratively. He wanted the truth.
    Moreover, and most irritating, he wanted to know everything about her. And he had no idea why he should be interested.
    “Catherine de Villecourt, you haven’t come close to giving me what I want. But you will. We have only just begun.”
    Thunder rumbled in the sky.

5

    Hundreds of candles shone tiny stars of light in the Salle de Buffet . Wall sconces and the silver candelabras on the long table illuminated the room with a warm orange glow.
    Ladies’ gowns and gentlemen’s justacorps of rich blues and greens, of deep gold and reds, lent to the opulence of the surroundings.
    Catherine tried to concentrate on her conversation with the Comte de Champagnier. Seated to her right, the man had the most unfortunate monotone voice. It didn’t help that his take on the Latin classics was uninspiring. Though reasonably attractive and only a few years older than she, he was incredibly dull. An avid reader, Catherine would have enjoyed a lively debate. Welcomed the much-needed distraction. Instead, the Comte’s comments often blended into the din of the room. Catherine smiled politely and made the occasional brief remark—brief because it was clear Champagnier was more interested in voicing his opinions than in hearing hers.
    She didn’t have anyone more interesting to talk to on her left. The ancient Madame de Jauloux was already chin-down, softly snoring before the meal was even served.
    Catherine was stuck with Champagnier.
    Her heart pounded away the time, knowing Adrien would arrive for supper at any moment. The room was full. Every seat was taken except the chair at the head of the table, which naturally Suzanne would occupy, and the one to its