Taming the Shrew by Cari Hislop Read Free Book Online

and deep wooden boxes filled with mysterious objects buried in carded wool. In the middle of the room the desk was an island of calm. On one side an oil lamp, inkstand, wax jack and on the other three stacked ledgers. “You may explore and read whatever you wish, except for the brown ledger on the desk, it’s personal.”
    “Why can’t I read the brown ledger? Is it a list of your lovers?”
    “No, it’s more damning than that.”
    “Why can’t I read it?”
    “Why do you think?”
    “Why do you keep answering my questions by asking me what I think? How should I know the stupid answer? It makes me want to hit you. Why can’t you answer my questions?”
    “Because the answer won’t mean anything to you unless it means something to you.”
    “I’m not the sphinx. I hate riddles; tell me the answer.” Juliana’s satanic growl faded to a soft moan as the Hervey creature cradled her face in his hands and leaned towards her hesitating an inch from her lips. His brown eyes struck her in the chest robbing her of speech. He was trying to tell her something important, but she couldn’t understand the silent message. His fingers roamed over her jaw and lovingly explored her neck before allowing his lips to attempt the unexplainable explanation. She reached for his waist pulling herself deep into his scent until there was nothing, but the rise and fall of his chest and the feel of his unshaven cheek as he held her lower lip captive. Ten minutes later she scowled in disappointment when her wet lips were exposed to cold air.
    “I beg you...” He sounded out of breath as if he’d been running. “...call me Sweetheart and say it like you mean it. My bedchamber is next door...”
    “If I must...Sweetheart...now will you make me your wife?” His deep groan of disappointment warmed her cheeks and chased down her spine as his hands retreated from her face.
    “You made the word Sweetheart sound like a curse.”
    “Sweetheart...will you please take me to bed?”
    “Now you sound irritated with me.”
    “I am irritated. Sweetheart...please make me your wife.”
    “That’s better, but you sound like you’re reciting a hated poem.”
    “How the blazes am I supposed to sound like I mean it?”
    “How do you think?”
    “Not that stupid question again...Sweetheart, please?”
    “No...try again, but first close your eyes and think of something you enjoy.”
    “I wasn’t born to treat the boards. Sweetheart?”
    “No...unfortunately, you don’t sound like you mean it. I’d better go wash before I lose all reason and succumb to temptation. I’ll ask Beecher to bring up a tray...”
    “I don’t want food; I want you to make me your wife.” She stomped her foot in irritation. Why do I have to call you Sweetheart? What difference does it make? It doesn’t make any sense.”
    “If you understood it would make perfect sense.”
    “Hervey creature, stop making stupid riddles and kiss me.” He appeared to struggle with some inner demon before turning and leaving. She listened as he entered the next room and closed the door. She crept over to the open door and peeked into the hall. A few minutes later he reappeared in a voluminous grass green silk dressing gown with several white folded items under one arm and a small leather bag in the other hand. Barefoot, with his wild orange hair against the intense green he looked like he’d just crawled out of an enchanted Irish fairy hill. With his back to her; he paused a few steps from his door as if tempted to resume casting a spell over her lips, but his elegant shoulders straightened and his feet carried him out of sight leaving her feeling disappointed and hurt. The stupid man made no sense. She slammed the door with force as she bit her lower lip hoping to recall the sensation of his eternal kiss, but it didn’t work. Feeling agitated, she glared at the brown ledger on the desk and then turned to scan the labelled baskets. Choosing a basket labelled ‘boxed fans’