Master Of Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kent.
    Winter's relentless bite was already in the air. He stopped at a magnificent copper beech tree and watched as the relentless wind tore off the leaves and stripped it of its glory. He felt the bleakness to his very core.
     
    After an hour's ride,Nicholas felt he should return to the Hall. He wasn't the only one to grieve and he would be needed at home.
    Nicholas wheeled into the stable just as the first large drops of a downpour splattered his dark face. He carefully washed and changed his clothing before going to Lady Pamela, but before he left his apartment, a servant came with a summons to attend her ladyship.
    As Nicholas entered the drawing room, he thought Pamela had never looked lovelier than she did at this sad moment. The black silk gown set off her delicate pallor and pale blonde chignon. As he looked at her with compassion, he noticed her eyes were no longer cool, they were cold, icy. She pinned him to the spot with her frigid glance. He noticed her slim white hands held the papers his father had dictated yesterday. As he watched, she held them out toward him and very deliberately tore them in half.
    "I have been waiting for this moment for years. My son is now Lord Peacock, and until he is of age, I am the paymaster here. You are a bastard, in more ways than one, and you will leave my home this day."
    Nicholas was stunned. She, whom he had thought of as saint, was in reality a bitch.
    Though he did not know it, she was a bitch in heat and had been in that unbearable condition for some time. As his turquoise eyes traveled over her, they touched a quickness deep inside her, so that she was forced to avert her eyes from his blatant masculinity.
    No other man had set her limbs trembling, ever, nor brought that sticky wetness between her legs, which Nicholas could do with a word or a glance. The thought of his lovemaking made her mouth go dry, while her breasts ached for the caress of that strong brown hand. Her loins hungered and clamored for his manhood to fill her with his heat. She seethed with hatred at the feelings he could so easily arouse in her. All her unrequited desires and fantasies were channeled into an icy core of pure, crystal venom, because he had never once looked at her except with the eyes of a stepson. She had not wanted to mother him; she had wanted to mate him!
    "You cannot do this," Nicholas said firmly. "I shall await my father's solicitor, Mr. Chetwynd, and we shall hear what he has to say."
    Lady Pamela moved toward the drawing room door and called softly, "Peter."
    The solicitor came into the room and stood behind her, but he had his hand firmly upon her waist in a gesture of ownership. "Mr. Chetwynd is already here."
    "I see," said Nicholas, and he really did see clearly for the first time in years. "I suppose the young maid who acted as witness has already been sent packing?"
    She smiled at his grasp of the situation.
    Nicholas gave her a mocking bow, and as his eyes swept her from head to foot they almost seared her skin. "I shall be off the place within the hour. You fancy you have won the game, madam, but I feel sporting enough to warn you that you have only won the first hand."
     
    Nick threw some personal belongings into a portmanteau along with some clean shirts and underclothes. He rapidly assessed his situation. He had about 750 guineas from his winnings, plus the clothes he stood up in. He was twenty-one years old and he had his whole life ahead of him. He'd go to London. One chapter of his life was closed, even though part of his heart would go to the grave with his father and remain at Peacock Hall forever.
    He left by the kitchen entrance to avoid further contamination. The rain was falling in steady, cold sheets, so he kept close to the building until he rounded the west wing, then pulling his cloak more closely about him, cut across to the stables. This brought to mind his father's words about Higgins, so he skirted the building and sought out the old man's cottage. He