Passion's Mistral Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mr. Moneybags if she can afford
    sending the two of us to the resort,” Dr. Carstairs observed.
    “Let’s just say she can afford it and leave it at that.”
    Dr. Carstairs tapped the side of her finger against her lip. “Now I wonder which society maven I know is
    the driving force behind this little scenario. I wager I know this woman.”
    “She’s a mother searching for her child, Dr. Carstairs. She should have our sympathy rather than
    conjecture, don’t you think?”
    The urologist sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She tapped a well-manicured nail against her
    perfectly straight white teeth. “I wonder if I’ve ever had him?”
    As the journey drew out, Silkie stared out the window at the clouds they slowly passed. She speculated
    what it would feel like to discover your child had fallen into a profession upon which most people would
    look down. Her own parents thought her chosen work was unseemly as well as sordid. Would they have
    disowned her if she had fallen into the squalid world of prostitution?
    “Damned right they would have,” Silkie murmured.
    She had to admire Mrs. Lynden for wanting to find her son no matter what he did for money. She only
    wondered if finding him would be in the woman’s best interest.

Chapter Three
    Fay Lynden turned over in bed and threw off the covers. A thin film of perspiration dotted her upper lip
    and had settled in the creases beneath her breasts. The wash of cool air wafting over her body helped to
    ease the heat of passion’s afterglow.
    “You’re going to be the death of me, darling,” Fay’s husband muttered as he reached out to stroke her
    arm.
    A lilting laugh escaped Fay’s arched throat as she threw her head back. “Not until your insurance is paid
    up,” she joked.
    Bradford Lynden nudged her with his knee. “Wicked woman. Don’t I give you everything you desire as
    it is?”
    Fay looked over at him. “And don’t I give you everything you desire, you old fart?”
    “Old?” Bradford gasped. “I’ll show you who’s old, woman!”
    Her eyes wide, Fay tried to shimmy off the bed but her husband caught her around the middle and
    launched himself atop her, his straining member stabbing possessively between her legs.
    “Help! Rape!” Fay yelled as her husband began tickling her ribs.
    “Say it,” Bradford demanded, digging playfully into her sides as she squirmed helplessly beneath him.
    “You can’t make me,” she managed to say in between uncontrollable giggling.
    “Say it or I’ll keep it up until you get the hiccups again,” Bradford warned.
    Fay flung this way and that in the bed but her husband kept her pinioned, his fingers playing up and down
    her rib cage.
    “Brad, don’t!” she begged but her pleading turned into laughter.
    “Say it, woman, and I’ll stop.”
    Managing to get her hands on his arms, she shoved with what fading strength she had but Bradford did
    not budge. He continued his delicious torment until she shrieked one last time and shouted, “I give! I
    give!”
    Before his wife could relax from the cessation of his tickling, Bradford Lynden thrust his erect cock into
    her and held it there, in as deep as the root would go. He stared down into her lightly lined face and
    grinned.
    “And?” he questioned, one brow cocked in anticipation.
    Fay sighed heavily. “And you can have your way with me.”
    And he did, putting both of them through a heated session of passionate love that would have exhausted
    a younger couple. Nor did he stop until he was sure he had satisfied his lady.
    Long into the night as the plane carrying the Heartland private investigator to the exclusive resort began
    its descent to Mistral Cay, Fay lay beside her sleeping husband and thanked the gods she had a man
    such as Bradford Lynden.
    Now all she needed was her son to make life complete once more.
    A single hitch of breath came from her as she thought of the little boy who had been torn from her arms
    that day over thirty years