Lust Eternal by Sabrina York Read Free Book Online Page B

elegant
drift of her hand through the fountain’s waterfall, the way the tendrils of her
hair fluttered in the breeze—threads of gold, lifting and dancing in the
sunlight.
    Her entire being, her aura, her soul, captivated him.
    He watched her in silence, emotions waffling between desire
and guilt for that desire. Neither were new to him, nor was the conflict they
engendered. The magic of the lamp, the nature of his curse made certain he
wanted every woman who came to him. Made certain he could not resist her
allure.
    The guilt, however, was his own. He carried it with him
always.
    He’d suffered this conflict for nearly two thousand years,
fresh in his heart with every woman, with every visit.
    But why now, why this time, why, with Aimalee was this
familiar tension so much more intense?
    Could it be that attraction to her was real and not a
construct of the Dark Djinn’s sortilege? He brushed the thought away. The
implications were far too disturbing.
    “Aimalee.”
    At the sound of his voice, she stilled then slowly turned.
His heart clenched at the sight of tears on her cheeks. Damn it all. She’d been
crying. Pain twanged in his chest.
    He ignored it.
    He hunkered down beside her and dabbed away the dampness
with a thumb. “Why are you crying?”
    She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
    “It’s not.” He sat on the lip of the fountain next to her,
drew her into his arms and cradled her. Together they watched the play of
sunlight dance through the burbling waters. She felt so good in his arms. That
was, until she began to sob. Her entire body rocked with it. “Aimalee. It’s not
nothing. Tell me.”
    She peeped up at him and his heart contracted at her expression.
So beautiful. So sad. “It’s just… This isn’t a dream, is it?”
    He pulled her closer. “No. It’s not.” How he wished it were
something other than what it was.
    “I thought I could pretend this was all a hallucination but
I can’t. It’s too…real.”
    “Did you enjoy our lovemaking?” Why he awaited her answer
so, heart in his throat, he could not explain.
    “Yes,” she said but this confession triggered a new wash of
tears.
    Keeshan snorted a laugh but there was no humor in it.
Exasperation perhaps. Befuddlement. Frustration. “Why does that make you cry?”
    “I’m not crying.”
    Even as she spoke the words, fresh tears puddled and
streamed down her cheeks. Keeshan knew enough about women to suspend logic in
such times. Instead he cuddled her and reveled in the press of her body against
his, her lingering scent. Unbidden, his arousal stirred. “Tell me what you’re
thinking.”
    She buried her face in his shoulder. “I want to go home.”
    Keeshan stilled. Forced himself to relax.
    He reminded himself that she could not go home on a whim.
That she could not leave him now. She would have to wait until the lamp
released her. He pressed that sudden, irrational panic away and buried his nose
in her hair. Silken. Fragrant.
    “It’s just not right, Keeshan, being here with you. Wanting
this.”
    “Ah.” Yes. He recognized her struggle. He’d known it
himself. He propped his chin on the top of her head and let the silence enrobe
them. Then, “He’s not worthy of you, Aimalee.”
    She went rigid in his arms. “He?”
    “Carter.”
    Was it possible for a woman to bristle like a hedgehog? She
did. Then she disentangled from his embrace, scooted a foot or so away and
stared at him, astonishment and a hint of trepidation in her eyes. “You know
about him?”
    He nodded. “The mirror showed me much to prepare me for your
coming. I know about him. I know everything. He is not worthy of you.”
    Aimalee snorted a laugh. “Why am I not surprised to hear you
say that?”
    “Because it’s true.”
    She bristled. “He is a wonderful man. And a great lover.”
    “He is not.”
    She flushed. Her lips trembled. “You didn’t…watch…that? Did
you? Oh my God. How mortifying.”
    Keeshan chuckled. “Indeed not.” That would