Nightwind by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Read Free Book Online Page A

me, my lady.”
    Her hands went to the straps of her chemise as she pushed the silky garment from her shoulders. Her
    breasts gleamed in the candlelight as the chemise slid down her curving hips to lay forgotten on the floor.
    “Then pleasure me, my sweet demon,” she whispered, “and I will allow you to break your vow just this
    once.”
    He stood still, taking her into his arms, feeling the glory of her nude body against his own. He swept her
    up, cradling her against his chest.
    “Do not disappoint me, Syntian.”
    “No, my lady,” he answered, crossing to the bed. “I will not.”

Chapter Four
    Beth Janaceklooked up from her glass of champagne and smiled. “Where is your date, Mr. Cree?” she
    asked, sweetly, licking her lips as she looked him over.
    He put his hand on her upper arm and squeezed. “I’m looking at her,” he answered. His thumb rubbed a
    tight little circle on her flesh.
    A fine blond brow eased upward. “Really? And what happened to the lady you had intended to bring?”
    He shrugged. “She had a prior commitment, I’m afraid.” His hand slid up and down her arm in a light
    caress. “Are you disappointed?”
    The heart inside her chest thumped hard against Beth’s ribcage as she stared up in his smoldering gaze.
    It was hypnotic, captivating, and seemed to strip the clothes from her body. Heat infused her lower belly
    and she had to take a sip of the sparkling champagne to hide the urge to put her hands on him, to reach
    out and grab that part of him she longed to possess her.
    “Are you?” she asked. “Disappointed, I mean?”
    His smile was slow and heartbreakingly sensual. “Not at all.” He held out his arm. “May I escort you
    into the party, Miss Janacek?”
    “Beth.”
    “Beth.” Her name on his lips was like an intimate touch on the most private parts of her anatomy. She
    took his arm, feeling the hard, steel-like muscles of his forearm under his silk shirt. When he covered her
    hand with his own, she felt her knees go weak with surrender.
    “Oh, there you are, Mr. Cree!” Allen Turnbridge called out as he led his wife over to the couple. “We
    were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it, after all. Have you met my wife, Olivia?”
    Syntian inclined his dark head toward the short, dumpy woman at Turnbridge’s side. “The pleasure is
    mine, Mrs. Turnbridge.”
    “Olivia,” the sixty-year old woman breathed, looking into his face as though she were drowning. “My
    name is Olivia.”
    As Beth took another sip of her wine, her look filled with a mocking light. As her escort repeated the old
    crone’s name, she thought Olivia Turnbridge would wet her pants. The heavily made-up face of the hag
    split into a girlish grin.
    “We are so pleased you could come,” said Olivia.
    “I am most pleased you invited me.”
    “Syn, I’m famished,” Beth put in, pulling on his arm. “Allen and Olivia always use the best caterers. I’m
    dying to try out their buffet. I intend to stuff my mouth!”
    Olivia saw a spark of pure fury flit through the hot brown eyes of her guest, but the man smiled, although
    the smile did not reach those devastatingly direct eyes. She noticed that he seemed to tense at Beth
    Janacek’s touch, almost as though he were repelled by it, but his manners were impeccable as he
    apologized to her and Allen and led the brazen little Janacek girl to the dining table.
    “He doesn’t like her, Al,” Olivia remarked, watching the way Syntian Cree moved away from Beth at
    the table.
    “He’s a little on the odd side,” Allen acknowledged. “I think he was going to bring someone else.”
    Olivia looked at her husband. “Who?” When Allen only shrugged, she returned her gaze to her guest.
    “Maybe that’s why he seems put up with Beth. She wasn’t his first choice.”
    “Whoever gets him,” she heard Louvenia Yelverton remark as she joined them, “will be getting her
    heart’s desire!”
    “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Beth