Winter's Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon Read Free Book Online

burned you, I’ll tend it.”
    â€œWell it would definitely appreciate that since it is throbbing.”
    And now that he mentioned it, the other it was throbbing, too. Especially as his gaze dipped of its own volition to her succulent breasts. His body grew even hotter and stiffer as his palm itched to caress the firm round mounds, and his mouth watered to suckle the soft pink tips until they hardened into rippled buds under his tongue.
    And she felt nothing for him.
    Nothing.
    Stifling his growl, he vowed that that would soon change. If it was the last thing he did, he would make her remember how good they were together.
    How much pleasure he could give her.
    And if any other man had dared enter her bed in the last five years, the law could add the crime of murder to his wanted poster.
    â€œIf you’re through ogling me,” she said, “I keep my medicinal basket in the back.”
    â€œI wasn’t ogling you,” O’Connell muttered, unwilling to admit to her what he’d been doing.
    She headed down a narrow hallway toward the back of the house. “Then please forgive me,” Catherine said over her shoulder. “I guess after five years, I’ve forgotten what an ogle looks like.”
    Biting back his response, O’Connell limped his way down the narrow hallway, past the stairs. He looked around at the burgundy walls and the paintings lining the hallway. She had a beautiful home. He just wished he’d been the one to give it to her.
    Even worse, a homey feel enveloped her boardinghouse.
    There had been a time once, long ago, when he had dreamed of having such a place to call home. And the thought of sharing such a place with Catherine had been his idea of paradise.
    But fate had turned her back on him and he had long given up that delusion. He could never have a life with her. He knew that.
    â€œNice place you have here,” he said.
    â€œThank you. I made the down payment on it with the money you left behind.”
    â€œSee?” he said defensively as he limped. “I wasn’t all bad.”
    â€œWhich is why I don’t hate you.”
    O’Connell cursed under his breath. Back to square one. That hadn’t helped his case the least little bit.
    He wanted her anger, her hatred. He wanted … no, he corrected, he needed her to feel something for him. Something other than apathy.
    There had to be some way to stir her up.
    He paused in the doorway of the kitchen as she crossed the floor to put the apron and glass in a wooden trash receptacle. “If you’ll sit at the table and remove your boot, I’ll be right back with the burn salve.”
    She disappeared into a room off the kitchen.
    O’Connell crossed the floor to the table. He set his hat down on the table, shrugged off his duster, then straddled the wooden bench seat and did as she ordered.
    Grimacing in pain, he removed his scorched sock. He had to admit his foot had looked better. And it had most definitely felt better.
    He blew air at his throbbing toes, noting the reddish skin that was already showing signs of blistering.
    Damn, but it hurt. Even more so than his nose had when she’d accidentally smacked him in the face with a broom handle because of some spider web she couldn’t stand being in the corner of the room. Personally, he’d have much rather suffered the spider than the broken nose.
    Being around Catherine could be quite dangerous to one’s health. Though, to be fair to her, he’d never seen her clumsy around anyone but him.
    Then again, he’d never really minded her clumsiness, since she had such wonderful ways of making amends for it.
    His breath caught in his throat at the memory of how she had made amends for his nose. Closing his eyes, he could still see her lowering herself down on him, feel her mouth teasing his flesh. Her teeth nibbling him all over.
    And his body grew harder, hotter, until he could barely stand it.
    Lord above,