A Brooding Beauty Read Online Free PDF Page A

had pulsed through him like a drug, and his every thought had been only of her. He remembered every second, every moment, and every breath taken in that bed. It had been his heaven before he had fallen into hell.
    Marcus knew Catherine believed he had been with other women since their marriage bed had gone cold, but unlike his peers who openly boasted of their conquests and eagerly looked for more, Marcus had always remained celibate. If he could not have his wife he wanted no woman at all, for they would only be able to provide a shallow comparison to the pleasure he had found in Catherine’s arms.
    How many other men had experienced that same pleasure? How many had tasted the sweet nectar of her lips or grazed their fingertips across the smooth silk of her thigh?  How many had touched which was only his by right to touch? On a searing oath Marcus shoved the foul thoughts from his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the dark curls away from his forehead in a gesture of agitation Catherine would have recognized all too well had she seen it.
    For a fleeting moment he considered finishing the rest of the scotch and passing out next to the fireplace, but idea was quickly dispelled. No, his sweet wife would not spend one more night without him beside her. He was finally going to get what he wanted: for Catherine to pay the consequences of her unforgivable betrayal.
     
    Marcus’ legs felt wooden as he walked up the stairs. He took his time getting ready in the spare bedroom across the hall, taking dark satisfaction in the thought that Catherine was most likely huddled in the middle of his bed growing more and more anxious with every passing second he did not appear.
    He slipped his shirt over his head in one fell swoop and kicked his riding boots into the corner. Dressed only in a worn pair of breeches that hugged his hips and made no secret of his bulging arousal, he crossed the hall and stepped into the master bedroom.
    The room was dark save a single candle flickering on a small side table. It illuminated everything in a soft glow, and Marcus could just make out a faint shape beneath the covers. As he approached the shape moved and shifted, and Catherine’s head emerged from beneath the thick yellow quilt.
    “You took so long I thought you had passed out downstairs,” she said scathingly. The annoyance in her eyes told him that was exactly what she had been hoping for and Marcus could not stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
    Had he truly thought his wife would be waiting for him trembling in fear? Catherine may have been many things, but a coward was not among them. She would fight him tooth and nail before she gave one inch and God help him he would not have it any other way.
    “I am looking forward to seeing how much you have learned in the ways of pleasing a man. You were quite inexperienced before,” he said. Bracing one knee against the mattress he leaned forward and spread his hands evenly across the quilt, the perfect position for pouncing.
    Catherine hissed at him like a scalded cat before she drew the sheets up to her chin. “Surely your red haired whore has kept you well satisfied.”
    “There has been no one since you, Catherine,” he said evenly.
    She snorted. “As if I am to believe that?”
    He shrugged. “Believe what you like.”
    Her eyes shot daggers at him as he reared back to slowly and deliberately untie the laces on his breeches. Once undone they slithered down his bare legs and he stepped out of them to stand perfectly still, allowing his wife to look her fill. She kept her gaze pinned on his face, but the flush in her cheeks told him she was quite aware of the changes occurring to his body well below his nose and mouth. A hard, mirthless smile captured his lips as he slid onto the bed with the calculated grace of a lion closing in on its prey. Catherine tried to squirm to the far edge of the bed and take the blankets with her, but he caught the quilt with one