Obsession Read Online Free PDF Page B

passed—filled up the room.
    She took a ragged breath, and it occurred to me with a jolting intensity that I had never seen her cry. Rant, yes. Shrill, definitely. Our emotional and physical parries had been as turbulent as war. But the tears streaming down her face were new and disconcerting.
    “I’ll buy you more port, Trey. A lifetime’s worth. The finest. Just…marry me.”
    “Edwina—”
    “I’ll employ nurses for her. Physicians. She’ll want for nothing.”
    “Don’t do this.”
    I looked out the window, discomfited by the raw desperation I saw on her face. Not just desperation, but also that other emotion I had, moments ago, toyed upon. Not possible. She did not love me. She could not.
    “I love you, Salterdon,” came her voice, and I stiffened as if from a blow.
    I focused hard on the darkening panorama—trees becoming silhouettes against the horizon, the clumps of peonies dissolving beneath the lengthening night shadows. The thousands of tiny roses growing wildly upon the stone fence walls stared back at me like ghostly white faces.
    She came beside me, and together we watched the first sprinkling of stars emerge. Her scent of roses teased me—once, it would have been enough to rouse me. I would have eased up her skirts with little pretense and thrust my body hard into hers. We would have rutted like dogs and I would have reveled in the momentary oblivion—it had been my only escape from the memories of Maria.
    “She has nothing to offer you,” Edwina said.
    “Perhaps.”
    “She’s not the same woman. She never will be.”
    “That’s not certain.”
    “What if she never heals? Will you content yourself with living like a monk for the rest of your life?”
    I watched a shooting star flash across the deep purple sky. Then it was gone.
    “A woman’s body has been your curse since you were old enough to take your first whore. You simply can’t help yourself. You have needs, like any other man, but more than most men. Even if she were to awaken from her idiocy and become the woman you once loved—would she, could she satisfy you to the end of your days?
    “You said once her purity cleansed the wretched sin from your soul. ‘An angel,’ you called her. Your…salvation.
    “Will she be able to satisfy your base hungers? What will you do when your sins corrupt her innocence, when she is no longer the angel? Or worse, will you ultimately grow weary of her naivete and hunger for the whore?
    “I’m sure of it. We’re much alike, you and I. We’re…empty, and starving to be filled. It’s what bonded us, I think. Our neediness.”
    “You could be right,” I said wearily. “But I don’t love you. I’m sorry.”
    “I know. I’ve always known. You’re honest, if nothing else. But you do care for me; I know that. As much as you are capable of caring for anyone but yourself and your own needs. This desire you have for the woman—I’m sure it stems now from guilt. You think you owe her something.”
    “I destroyed her.”
    “Your grandmother destroyed her.” Edwina sighed. “I won’t give up. You’ll eventually grow tired of this encumbrance. Your hunger for flesh will erode this momentary obsession for self-sacrifice, and you’ll need me again. I’ll make it so.
    “When you rest in your bed at night, alone, you’ll think of me—of what we shared. I’ll return again and again. I’ll break you down. I’ll erode your willpower. Maria Ashton may claim your heart—for the moment—but I’ll claim your soul. I vow it.”

    D ARKNESS . C OMFORTING. S HIELDING . A VEIL OF oblivion. Oh, how she loved it. Craved it. Worshipped it, the oblivion.
    “Paul?” she whispered. “Paul, are you there?”
    She waited, barely breathing in anticipation.
    A new fear taunted her, an uneasiness that threatened her fragile stability. It had begun with the light.
    “Are you there?” she cried.
    Aye, sweetheart. I’m always here. You know that.
    “Am I dead at last?”
    Dead? No, not at all.