Cheryl Holt Read Online Free PDF Page B

disgust. How many females had listened to the feeble quip? Why couldn’t he devise a more original romantic volley?
    “Oh yes, you poor dear,” the woman replied. “Matrimony can be such a fetter to one’s amusements.”
    “Can’t it though?”
    Why did women succumb to his charms? Why would they race off to be alone with him? What was the allure? Ellen had heard whispers about the adventures of courting, and she had to admit that she was curious.
    What secrets did they know that Ellen, as a virginal spinster, hadn’t had the chance to learn?
    The previous evening, when he’d touched her mouth, he’d given her a hint of the physical bliss he could trigger. Whenever she recalled the wild incident, her heart pounded. What had he been trying to accomplish? What if he’d kept on?
    The question haunted her. If she hadn’t shied away like a timid child, if she’d let his exploration continue, where might she have ended up?
    “Oh, Stanton,” the woman gushed, “you’re so naughty.”
    “You’re awfully wicked yourself.”
    The rendezvous was progressing more rapidly than the others, and Ellen wondered if it was due to Stanton being in a hurry, or if the woman was easier to seduce than the others had been. Whatever the source of theescalation, Ellen was resolved to bring about an even faster finale.
    She’d commenced harassing him because of Rebecca, but somewhere between the first tryst and this one, she’d begun doing it for her own enjoyment. It was so entertaining to interrupt him. Though she recognized it as a pitiful comment on her dull life, she loved sparring with him. She existed in a world of females, in an odd purgatory between servant and houseguest—she wasn’t quite either one—so she didn’t cross paths with many men, especially none like him. He was extremely intriguing.
    She pulled her cards from her reticule, sat down at the table, and started to shuffle.
    There was a pause; then the woman queried, “What was that?”
    He sighed. “Don’t ask. Just go.”
    “But. . . but. . .” the woman sputtered.
    “Trust me. We’re finished for now. But we
will
dally again. I promise you.”
    Seeming intoxicated and disoriented, his partner tottered up and glanced around. As she caught sight of Ellen, Ellen flashed a feral smile that was so vicious the woman gasped and fled onto the verandah.
    Feeling smug, Ellen rose and watched as Stanton uncurled from the couch. He appeared grim and forbidding, and she suffered a wave of disquiet, though not out of fear for her safety.
    She’d exhausted his patience, and he was ready to commit mayhem, but he wouldn’t harm her. For some reason, she understood him well, when there was no basis for a heightened discernment. He was irritated and enraged, but he’d never lash out.
    He walked toward her, advancing with the grace ofa large African cat, and her stomach tickled, her senses whirled. She’d never have a beneficial effect on his character, so she was on a fool’s errand. Yet she’d been swept away by righteous indignation and couldn’t back down.
    He approached until he was directly in front of her, and he stepped in so that she was pressed to the table, so that she was trapped between it and him. Exuding menace and wrath, he towered over her, and she was dizzy with absorbing the emotions coursing through her.
    He was providing her with a glimpse of what enticed his paramours, of why they were so quick to sneak off with him. She was mesmerized, held spellbound by his rapt focus. She’d never been so keenly studied, as if he could bore through to her very essence, and she was stunned to discover that a vain, feminine part of her was thrilled.
    When he stared at her, what did he see? She hoped he saw a vibrant, mature woman, with a pretty face and pleasing shape, but she was fairly sure that, instead, he perceived the tedious, discontented lady’s companion that dire circumstances had forced her to become.
    She was so pathetic! So dreary in her need