Secrets of Sin by Chloe Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

the aquamarine blue depths of Emiline’s stunning eyes.
    By God.
    He’d forgotten how stunningly beautiful she was. His gaze traveled over her appearance. No, she was not simply stunning, she took his breath away. Still.
    Gone were the round, youthful cheeks she’d had five years ago, gone to be replaced by sharp features, a little hollow now, but amazingly it emphasized her strong cheekbones. Her arms weren’t as soft looking as they used to be either. They were leaner, muscled.
    But, he thought and his face lit up, her ample curves were still all there. He’d always adored her soft curves. They fit to his body perfectly.
    And her skin, how could he forget that fascinating bronze color that came from the perfect mix of her father’s dark Afro-Indian coloring and her mother’s pale French complexion.
    Seemingly frozen in place as she stood in the door, Emiline’s full rose petal lips were slightly ajar. Goodness, he still remembered what it was like to kiss them, how gentle they were, supple, trembling under his shortly before she’d melt in his arms and arch her body into his. And they tasted like sweet strawberries, seductive, yet innocent.
    Perfect.
    It’s what he’d thought when he’d first seen her as well. She was perfect. Flawless perfection come to life.
    Reinier had forgotten how much he’d wanted her. How much he still wanted her now that he saw her again after such a long time. It all felt so new, yet it wasn’t. Still, it was exciting. Still, she was enticing. Simply seeing her again had his heart pumping heavily in his chest. And something else farther down as well.
    He’d always felt physically attracted to her—almost to the point of madness. Yes, he’d always thought he’d go insane if he couldn’t have her.
    Time and distance hadn’t lessened her appeal like he’d hoped it would.
    She wore a simple linen dress, but nothing looked just plain on her. Whatever she wore, she looked like an angel, especially now that she had her hair down, her still-wet, wild curls fell down her back. He knew they smelt like strawberries as well. Small wood strawberries, like the ones he’d gathered when he was a boy back home.
    Reinier also remembered how silken her hair felt on his skin. He’d drape it over him in the night, and lose himself in her utter femininity and mild, soothing fragrance.
    The evening tide was almost gone. Almost.
    So, while he was here, he might as well renew his memories; he might as well enjoy her soft, pliant body against his. It would be only natural. He was her husband and…
    Suddenly remembering why he was here, a cool jolt of reality drew him out of his pleasant musings.
    He was not just her husband. She’d made him a cuckold as well. He’d had a purpose coming here, after all.
     
    Upon entering the parlor, Emiline thought she saw a ghost, an evil ghost from her past that had come to unmercifully haunt her. But Reinier was real and standing there in her parlor by the window with his back to her. When he turned around, she thought her heart had stopped beating altogether.
    Now he was moving, gracefully, with a certain swing to his every movement, like the predator she thought him to be. Reinier was coming up to her and she knew she should run, should do something, anything but just foolishly stand there, paralyzed by his presence, mesmerized by how he looked at her.
    He bowed to her and Emiline blinked. What was he doing? Was he formally…? Emiline gasped as she saw him lifting the book she hadn’t noticed had slipped from her fingers. Absentmindedly, she took it from him and clutched it to her chest, held on to it as if she needed something that felt solid, real.
    Nonsense, she chided herself. She needed a shield.
    What was he suddenly doing here? Why was he back in her life now?
    “Emiline.”
    She had to repress the warm, gentle shiver that snaked through her when she heard Reinier’s voice again after such a long time. It was deep and there was still that certain