Forbidden Pleasures by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online

ones you saw in so many places now. Devlin almost missed his turn onto Colonial Avenue at the far end of the village. He paid closer attention to his driving so that he was prepared for the turn onto Founders Way.
    “It has just five houses on it,” Emily had told him. “The first two are genuine Colonials. The next two are Empire, but one is modern. I’m the big Empire at the bottom of the street. It’s not really a cul de sac, but similar to one. You can park your car at the very end of the driveway. I’ll be watching for you.”
    He made the turn and drove to the end of the little street, pulling all the way up into her driveway, and catching his breath as she came out from the house to greet him. Damn, she was lovely! She was wearing khaki slacks that hugged a very round little butt, and a cream-colored silk shirt. She wore no lipstick, and it tickled him. Emily Shanski was obviously not a girl who doted on her appearance. It told him she had enough confidence in herself not to worry about such things. All the women he knew did.
    “You drive a Healy!” were the first words out of her mouth, and she hurried by him to admire his car. “It’s a ’sixty?” Emily ran her hand over the cream-colored fender.
    “’Sixty-one,” he said. “I brought it with me from Ireland to New York to England, and back to New York again. They are very rare now, I’m told.”
    “I have a ’sixty-three in the garage,” she told him. “I just found it about five years ago, and had it restored. Mine is Racing Green, but I’ve got the roll-up windows.”
    “A distinct advantage when it’s about to rain,” he admitted.
    “Oh, I’m being so rude,” she exclaimed, blushing. “Welcome to Egret Pointe, Mr. Devlin. Grab your bag, and I’ll show you to your room. I hope you don’t mind coming in the kitchen door, but it seems silly to drag you around to the front at this point.”
    “Mick,” he said. “My friends call me Mick. And I prefer the kitchen door. Back in Ireland when I grew up only the priest came in the front door.” He pulled the elegant bag from the back of the car and followed her up two small steps into the house. His nose twitched. “Is that roast beef I smell cooking?” he wanted to know.
    “I took the chance you didn’t keep a meatless Friday,” Emily admitted. “But if you do, I have some salmon in the freezer I can cook.”
    The look on his face was beatific. “No, I do not keep a meatless Friday, Emily, and rare beef is my favorite meal. There would not, by chance, be some potatoes roasting around that meat, would there?” The hopeful look on his face made him appear boyish.
    “Now, sir, what kind of an Irish girl would I be if I didn’t have the potatoes roasting about the beef?” she teased him.
    “It’s O’Shanski then, is it?” Devlin teased back.
    Emily laughed. “My mother was an O‘Malley,” she explained, “and this was my Grandma O’Malley’s house once upon a time. Both she and Granny Katya taught me to cook. I do a mean kielbasa and pierogies too.”
    “I think you may be the perfect woman, Emily,” he flattered her. “You write wonderful novels, and cook as well.” And I’ll bet you fuck like a dream, too, he thought to himself, his eyes briefly sliding over the twin mounds beneath the silk blouse. He had never been more tempted in his life, and he was going to have a difficult time keeping his hands off of her, which surprised him. He had always managed a strong reserve where women were concerned. Enjoy what they offer, but don’t get emotionally involved was his longtime motto.
    “Reserve your judgment until you’ve tasted my dinner,” Emily advised him. “Come on. I promised to show you to your room.” She hurried from the kitchen, and he fell into step behind her.
    The home had a gracious center hallway with a graceful staircase. As they reached it the doorbell chimed, and then the door opened to admit an older couple.
    “Rina, Dr. Sam,” Emily greeted