Stolen Splendor Read Online Free PDF

the provocative
smile curving her lips. A low rumble of triumph broke from his throat at her
sudden acquiescence. So the wanton was revealed at last, he thought
appreciatively. He sought her mouth again in a lingering kiss, his hands
lightly caressing the curved line of her hips, then lifting ever so slowly the torn skirt of her gown.
    Now . . . now! Kassandra's inner voice screamed. Steeling
herself against the stirring power of his kiss, she summoned every ounce of her
strength and shoved against him. He reeled backward, almost falling, but she
paid him little heed. Her only thought was to reach his weapons on the other
side of the room.
    Desperately she lunged across the bed, scrambling and clawing over the damask spread, then hurled
herself toward the leather belt lying on the floor, knocking the breath from
her body. Her fingers touched the carved butt of the pistol just as two strong
hands spanned her narrow waist and spun her into the air.
    "What game is this, wench?" Stefan spat, his
handsome face clouded with anger as he tossed her back onto the bed. In the
next instant he was straddling her, his muscled thighs a heated vise around her
hips. "First you seduce me with mock innocence, then you play the
temptress," he said grittily, his gray eyes blazing into her own,
"and now you seek to use my weapons—to rob me, perhaps? So now it is a
bewitching thief who shares my bed."
    Dazed and gasping for breath, Kassandra could only
return his stare. The fury tinged with lusting desire she saw in his eyes, and
the terrible heat of his thighs about her, filled her with despair. A sinking
feeling told her she had lost the battle against him.
    Stefan leaned over her, his breath warm against her
flushed cheek. "Well, my beautiful thief, we shall play my game now."
With practiced ease he slipped the gown from her shoulders and arms, catching
her wrists above her head with one strong hand. He barely grazed her lips with
his own, then trailed a fiery path down her throat.
    Kassandra tensed beneath him, fighting shivers of
sensation. She watched wide-eyed, unable to move, as he shifted his weight and
lay down beside her, his hand still holding her wrists, his hard, sinewed
length pressed against her.
    With his other hand Stefan quickly slid the gown from
her body and tossed it to the floor, along with her petticoat, shoes, and gray
yarn stockings. The only clothing left to her was her linen chemise. A tearing
sound rent the air as he ripped the flimsy undergarment from bodice to hem,
baring her body to the scorching intensity of his gaze.
    Stefan sharply sucked in his breath, his eyes savoring
the trembling beauty lying beside him. Her body was slender and long-limbed,
yet provocatively curved and lithe, the creamy porcelain of her skin tinged
with palest rose. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, taunting mounds tipped
with hardened nipples, fashioned for a man's caress . . . tempting him,
beckoning to him . . . Her belly was taut and firm, her hips gracefully curved,
the downy juncture at her thighs a silky invitation, a promise of sensuous
delight.
    Kassandra arched her back, a low moan escaping unbidden
from her throat as Stefan ran a calloused finger between her breasts. Sweet
Lord, he was going to ravage her! And there was nothing she could do to escape
him.
    Suddenly Stefan released her wrists and drew her to
him, his arms tightening like bands of rippling steel, his mouth coming down
cruelly upon her own, the bold hardness of his desire
pressing urgently against her thigh. In the fierceness of his embrace,
Kassandra defiantly decided she could not, would not, allow herself to be taken by force in this, her first experience with a man . . .
    Fate had thrown them inexplicably together, and it
could not be altered. She had always faced life fearlessly, accepting whatever
challenges were thrown in her path; she would now meet the blazing heat of his
passion measure for measure, if only to spare herself the brutality that might come