His Christmas Captive Read Online Free PDF

yours in name only from as
far away as possible, don't you?"
    "I am
not far away now," he said quietly, his gaze intense. Searing into her.
"With my body, I thee worship." His lips crooked. "If you'll let
me."
    She shuddered
as one of his hands traveled down her back, spreading fire down the length of
her spine, making her yearn to move against him. With him.
    It had always
been like this. He need only touch her, and she was his. She had followed him
out of the nightclub, into his hotel room and then all the way across the
planet to this tiny little country. She should hate him for it, for this power
he wielded over her treasonous body, but she didn't. She couldn't.
    She loved
him.
    She stared
down at his beautiful face, so male and arrogant and uniquely Rafi, and
she could not even manage to berate herself for that weakness as she had over
these last months.
    He had
treated her terribly, there was no denying it. The parts of her he'd hurt still
ached with it, and she thought sometimes they always would. But that didn't
change the man she knew was there, beneath all that, beyond what had happened
between them. She still believed in that man. The honorable person who had
vowed to protect her—and he had done so.
    Just not from
himself.
    "Lucy…"
The way he said her name, with the faintest touch of his Alakkulian accent and
that fire in his eyes, still undid her. Just as it always had.
    She had lost
so much and been so alone. She loved him. Tonight he was her husband. He would
no doubt leave again as if he had never been, and she would return to England
and reality—so what harm was there in treating this like all those dreams she'd
had in all the lonely months she'd languished here, by herself?
    She didn't
want to think anymore. She didn't want to wonder and worry and rip herself to
pieces trying to understand what had happened to this marriage, what had stolen
this very connection away from them. Here, now, she just wanted to feel.
    No matter how
much she might live to regret it.
    She bent her
head and kissed him.
    The fire
between them blazed white hot. He pulled her closer, angling his mouth for a
deeper fit, and then rolled her over, his hands moving to learn her curves
anew.
    And Lucy
could do nothing but delight in it. In him. At last.
     
    Chapter
Seven
    The snow fell
all through the night, and into the next day.
    It cocooned
them, Lucy thought sometime the next morning, gazing out at the drifts of
white. It softened the reality of their fractured marriage, let them
concentrate instead on what they had at that moment.
    This
connection. This fire. The insatiable wildness of their passion that nothing
seemed to dim.
    She shut off
her mind and pushed away all the darkness of the past months, choosing to bask
in Rafi as she had so long ago on that trip to Paris.
    Through the
day, they fed each other in the great four-poster bed. They tasted each other
again and again. And they talked. About the world, about the small,
inconsequential things that made up their lives. He was funny, intriguing. And
so impossibly sensual.
    If she had
not already been in love with him, Lucy knew, this little interlude would have
sent her head over heels.
    But there was
so much left unsaid, so much pain and heartbreak, that even a stolen day or two
surrounded by the snow could not keep it all at bay. Perhaps it was her
knowledge that this bliss could not—would not—last that made the idyll that
much sweeter.
    It was Christmas
Eve, though Lucy had not dared mention it, aware of Rafi's dislike of all
things Christmas.
    That evening,
they sat before the great fireplace that dominated one wall in the master
suite, both of them exhausted in the most delicious way. She leaned back
against his bare chest as he toyed with her curls, twining them around his
fingers. I will always remember this instant, this feeling, she thought. No matter what happens.
    "I wish
we could be like this forever," she said on a happy sigh, caught up in the
joy of the