Seductive as Flame by Susan Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

sorry. How tiring this must be for you.”
    “Not in the least. We should be safe enough in the kitchen,” he mildly said, preferring less unnerving earnestness. He was already in deeper than he’d like, racked with indecision, struggling against a disturbingly violent lust.
    “I envy you your calm. I’m impulsive by nature and also not as practiced as you.” She smiled. “Perhaps I can learn.”
    “No, don’t learn,” he muttered, chafing memory prompting his tone. “Practiced women I know by the score.”
    “And you’re looking for something different.”
    “I’m not looking for anything.” The naked, unsimple truth.
    “But I just fell into your lap.”
    “Not yet.” His instant smile was a triumph of audacity over good judgment. “But I’m hopeful. So screw it all,” he added apropos nothing and everything. Then he reached out and took Zelda’s hand because he couldn’t stop himself, because his craving for her wasn’t completely sexual, because he felt an incomprehensible joy. “Seventy hours to go.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Can we do it?”
    “We have to,” she said like she did in her frank way. “It won’t be forever.”
    “It’ll just seem like forever,” he gruffly said. “But since have to isn’t in my vocabulary, I’d recommend you lock your door tonight.”
    “Consider me warned.”
    “Do you play cards? Chris is learning.”
    He was deliberately changing the subject. “Of course,” she said with equal tact, glad in a way to be distracted from her outrageous feelings. “What else is there to do on cold winter nights with five bored children? They didn’t like to read, not even Francesca.”
    “Your sister who’s married?”
    She nodded. “She was young but insistent, and it was either that or Papa having to go over to the Elliots next door with a shotgun. Not that Ian was against marriage. Everyone just thought they were too young.”
    “How young is young?”
    “Seventeen.”
    His brows rose into his hairline. “I wish them luck.”
    “And good health. She’s having a baby next spring.”
    “Was the marriage in time?”
    “Absolutely. They’ve been married almost a year.”
    “What do you do now that everyone’s gone?” He was surprised at his question. He didn’t, as a rule, inquire into the lives of the women he bedded other than to ask them their preferences in jewelry.
    “I’ve been traveling the past year. I just returned from Brazil. Before that I was in Constantinople, Venice; Florence is lovely in the spring.”
    “Do you travel alone or with a companion?”
    “Generally alone, sometimes with a maid, but I dislike having to accommodate someone else.”
    He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. With a woman of her splendor, he’d anticipated a male companion. Although the elation he felt was disturbing. “Chris likes to win at cards. Just a warning,” he said, deliberately altering the direction of his thoughts.
    “Don’t all children?”
    “I suppose they do.”
    “Didn’t you?”
    Winning wasn’t an issue in his childhood so much as surviving. His father’s drinking and explosive temper had been a constant danger. “I don’t remember,” he said, not about to discuss his troubled childhood. “And you?”
    She grinned. “Need you ask. I love to win.”
    He laughed. “Silly question.”
    “I’ll be winning on Monday, too,” she said, knowing her heart was in her eyes and not caring.
    “We’ll both win, darling,” he smoothly replied, refusing to acknowledge her look or the pleasure it gave him. He reminded himself that this was just a country house flirtation—soon over and no different from all the rest. “Here we are,” he went on in the same insouciant tone, having escorted her through the kitchen garden to the kitchen door. “Now Chris can be demanding. Let me know when you get tired of playing cards.”
    They found Chris with Mrs. Creighton and John at a table in a corner of the huge kitchen,