Haunted Hearts by Teresa DesJardien Read Free Book Online Page A

a kiss she’d known before, oh no indeed. Those given to Mama, and Papa, and even Stratton, they had been familial toasts. Expected, but a thing made from duty, not attraction. They’d been nothing like this man-woman exchange that deepened by the moment, a thing of awareness, and sensation, and a growing need to sink deeper yet.
    Gasping, Olivia drew back, enough to look up into glittering eyes whose color she knew to be brown but were little more than shadows now. One of his hands remained yet on her waist. She shuddered, unable to keep from letting him feel the shiver, and acutely aware her universe had shifted, her knowledge of the world expanded.
    “I didn’t know,” she whispered.
    “Know?”
    “That it could feel so...special,” she said, knowing he would not see her profound blush, and grateful for it. “I thought it was all fairy stories.”
    “Yes?”
    They peered through the dark at each other, but then he was drawing her in again, kissing her, except this time not so gently, not so kindly. It was, though, just as sweet, sweeter than any wine. She offered no resistance, instead leaning into him all the more. She found she’d forgotten she’d meant to share a single kiss. She’d also forgotten the elemental wonder of a touch; there was a timelessness, a lack of thought, that came with a caress. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know each other, it only mattered that for a moment they were connected in excitement and want and a magic she hadn’t known existed.
    Finally he raised his mouth, and he gave a quiet laugh. The sound, so warm and male and charming, made her tremble again in his arms.
    “Thank you, mademoiselle ,” he said. The angle of his head kept adjusting just a tiny bit, and she thought he must be doing as she did, trying to somehow part the darkness the better to see. She smiled at his tone, one hand touching the lay of his coat front in a familiar way that managed to not feel awkward. The gesture was an unspoken word of thanks in return.
    The mood changed. She was quite sure it was because of their closeness, their mingled breathing. She felt his hand slide along her arm, catching up her hand and holding it between them. She was glad there was no ring there for him to feel.
    “Are you ready?” he asked.
    She drew in a breath. “Ready? For…more dalliance?”
    He laughed softly. “That was not what I meant, but…” He let his voice trail away, and one arm slipped around her lower back, pulling her even closer.
    And she let him. She not only let him, but some part of her wondered if, despite her best intentions, she’d stop him from doing anything he desired at all?
    ***
    How odd, Ian thought, to find that this nameless woman had climbed into his arms. Worse, she’d touched something in his chest; he felt his heart as its steady thumping began to accelerate just because she stood pressed against him.
    Of course, she could be any sort of scoundrel. An actress. A manipulator, trying to attach herself to a rescuer. In fact, she probably was all those things…but, by God, she was also difficult to resist when she went up on tiptoe again and lifted her mouth toward his once more.
    How peculiar that he could have only given a few details about her appearance, but her demeanor somehow told him she’d been wounded. Was it in the cautious touch of her hand on his chest? The way she waited for him to kiss the lips that were but a breath away from his? The way she trembled?
    Devil take me, Ian uttered to himself just before he answered her irresistible summons and kissed her again, now allowing added flickers of ardor to communicate from his mouth to hers. She didn’t shy away, instead clinging to him, seemingly thirsty for his touch.
    It was as if they spoke without words, conversed and understood and smiled at each other even though their mouths were upon each other’s, their hands unexpectedly tangled in each other’s hair. He felt the pins that held her chignon in place fall