Storming His Heart Read Online Free PDF

wonder she’d responded so readily to him. Then too, being sexually dominated by a stronger man had always been a fantasy of hers. Was it any wonder he’d made her go off like a rocket?
    “He’s Westlake. They’re not to be trusted,” she repeated aloud the words she’d heard since she’d started working for her uncle. Her brothers and fellow investigators had an aversion to Westlake types. Business was business, and the more Westlake took away from them, the harder they had to work to keep their jobs. What none of them realized was that her distrust was personal.
    The doorbell rang, scaring the crap out of her. Hell, that was all she needed—one of her overprotective brothers to see her bruised after a date. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair in an attempt to look less rumpled.
    “Hold on,” she shouted and limped to her bedroom.
    Her sleepwear exposed her bruised leg, so she put on a blue silk robe that hit her mid-calf and made her way to the door. It was only nine o’clock—a little early for Luc if he had indeed gone out with Belinda.
    She started to grow angry. Couldn’t she at least try to have a love life without one of her brothers checking up on her? What if she’d invited Hank to stay the night? She yanked the door open expecting one of her siblings.
    The sight of her visitor stopped her tirade before it had begun.
    “May I come in?”
    A chocolate brown gaze swept over her thin robe and rose to stop at her mouth. When Storm made no move to allow him entrance, Rafe closed the distance between them. He lifted her out of the way and moved past her.
    Before she knew it, he stood in her house, the door shut firmly behind him.
     
    “What’s for breakfast?” Rafe asked, all the while skimming her features. She didn’t look any the worse for wear, so perhaps last night’s odd happenstance had just been a dream. But dreams didn’t leave him feeling sick and dizzy. He normally controlled his visions though, and last night had hit him squarely between the eyes.
    “Wh—what…why…?” Storm continued to stare, obviously thrown by his untimely appearance. “What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.
    “Storm Buchanan, I’m Rafe Savage. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” He turned on the charm and she blinked in bewilderment. Without asking, he reached for her limp hand and brought it to his lips.
    Touching her made him hard as a rock. Thankfully, she continued to stare into his eyes, as if searching for answers there. He smiled, and her eyes widened. Her ripe lips parted on a breathy gasp.
    He wondered if he’d gone overboard on the charm when she continued to say nothing. Then he noticed the rough abrasion on her palm. He turned her hand over, his heart racing.
    “Where’d you get this?”
    She pulled her hand away and moved to her sofa. Her movements were slow and clumsy, and he watched with suspicion as she carefully lowered herself to sit.
    “I don’t know. Must have happened when I tripped the other day.” She settled into the cushions and gave him a wary look.
    Not believing her in the slightest, Rafe followed her. He scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her protests, and moved as gently and quickly as he could.
    “What the hell are you doing?” She didn’t try to leave his hold, conscious of her injury, no doubt.
    “Where’s the bedroom?”
    “The bedroom?” Her eyes flickered to the left. “Are you on drugs?”
    He walked with her down the bright corridor to a bedroom that had to be hers. Done in soft blues, the room had feminine touches but wasn’t overly frilly. Her queen-size bed, to his disappointment, sported rumpled cotton, not silk sheets. He lowered her to the mattress and waited for her to try to escape.
    She didn’t disappoint him.
    He stopped her awkward attempt, pulled her to the edge of the bed and opened her robe.
    Ignoring her stunned silence and his own heated reaction to her short nightshirt, he examined