Deadlands Heat (Doomsday Lover Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

pull-cord. A moment later the steward came back in with a bow. “Yes, master.”
    “Show the lady to the guest chamber. The blue one, I think.”
    “Immediately, master. Follow me, please.”
    I took a step to follow, unsure what exactly was happening now. I paused on the threshold and turned back. “I’m sorry,” I stammered, “but are you…?”
    He raised an eyebrow in mock puzzlement, but the glimmer of mischief in his eyes said that he understood perfectly—that he was amused by my discomfiture and unwilling to alleviate it by filling in the blanks.
    I swallowed hard. “Are you planning to…join me?”
    “Join you?” He smiled. “Yes. I’ll be joining you shortly.”
    “I mean will you…” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Never mind.”
    “So eager and yet, so shy.” He grasped my chin, made me look up at him. “It makes me wonder what you’ll be like. Will you scream? Will you whimper? Will you beg? Oh yes, I am going to fuck you. But first, my dirty little tumbleweed, I’m going to bathe you.”
     
     

 
    Chapter Seven
    Desert Rose
     
    THE BLUE GUEST chamber had walls hung in pale shimmering satin, embroidered with gold—elegant, swooping vines and little birds in flight chased around the room, flowing like water into the other design elements. There were pillows everywhere, with leaves and feathers picked out in gold against hues ranging from bright ice blue to deep bruised plum. Gilded vines traced the wide mirror above the long mahogany dresser and up each of the tall columns of the massive four-poster bed.
    As in the pink room, this room hosted a pair of matching couches facing off over a fancy table; this one, inlaid with grey and white marble that had flecks of gold to match the omnipresent embroidery. The bed sat off to one side, an island in itself, surrounded by a sea of pillows and thick azure carpeting.
    I took the cylinder out of my jeans and slipped it into the space between the curtain wall and the dresser a moment before four men came in carrying a deep bronze bathtub between them. They set it in the center of the room, adding bucket after bucket of hot, steaming water, until it was nearly full. They placed a tray of bottles and bars of soap on the table and left without comment.
    I was alone again and starting to feel my nerves. The tub seemed to mock me. It was an accusation—mute proof that this arrogant, entitled man essentially considered me a filthy vagabond. Now that he wasn’t here, breathing along my neck and stalking me with his eyes, I’d regained enough sense to be insulted. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to find my boots and tell him that he and his scented soaps could go to hell.
    “You shouldn’t chew your nails like that.” Amir crossed the room towards me. “It will ruin your cuticles.”
    I took the finger from my mouth and hid hands it behind my back like a guilty child. Apparently, this was the affect he had on me. Stupid, stupid Jenna—think with your head!
    He plucked a round purple bottle from the tray and poured a stream of amber liquid into the tub—narcissus and heliotrope wafted up, wrapping me in a warm almond-vanilla haze. “Strip.”
    I blinked at him. “ Excuse me?”
    The bottle clinked as he set it down. He removed his robe and tossed it on the couch, leaving him clad only in the matching pants. His feet were bare. I watched them as he padded closer. “I said. Strip .”
    I reached for the hem of my shirt, oddly tremulous again. How was it he could make me want to have sex with him and want to run from him at the same time? I pulled the tank top off over my head and let it fall to the floor. He watched me, waiting. My fingers found the button on my jeans, fumbling as I undid them. I pushed them slowly down my thighs, panties and all, and kicked them aside. I stood naked before him, enduring his silent appraisal. I’ve been naked in front of a lot of people under some truly bizarre circumstances, but this was one of