The Heart Breaker Read Online Free PDF Page A

assault, Heather could only struggleimpotently. She had been kissed only twice in her life, both times by young gentlemen her own age. Evan’s violence stunned and frightened her.
    When at last he raised his head, still keeping her imprisoned, his dark eyes glittered with anger and something else she was woman enough to recognize as savage lust.
    “There is a remedy for your reticence, my dear. One night in my bed, and you will be singing a far different tune. Your paragon will not want you then. No man wants damaged goods for his wife. I might not even have you then.”
    Her heart leapt in fear at the look in his eyes. She tried again to pull away, but he was too strong for her, too fierce. “No … don’t!” When Evan bent to her again, she fought back a scream.
    She tasted rage in his kiss, rage and ruthless determination. Her hands came up to pummel his chest futilely.
    She was suffocating; she couldn’t breathe.
    Through her daze, she heard a low warning growl, like that of a predatory animal.
    Then suddenly Evan was no longer holding her.
    “What the—” he uttered as he was wrenched off her.
    Her release was so abrupt, Heather’s knees almost gave way. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched, stunned, as Evan was flung across the parlor to land face-first with a thud on the carpeted floor, barely missing the tea table.
    Feeling faint, she clutched at the mantel to keep from falling. Evan rolled over and lay holding his jaw, staring up at his assailant.
    Shaking, light-headed with relief, Heather shifted her gaze to her savior.
    Her eyes went wide. It was
he.
The bold stranger who had rescued the runaway carriage in the streeta short while earlier. He wore his hat now, and the dark brim shadowed his eyes as he stared down at Randolf.
    “I believe the lady told you to let her go.”
    “Who the devil are you?” Evan demanded.
    The stranger tipped his hat back, his eyes as hard as ice. “The name’s McCord.” He shot a glance at Heather, who stood trembling, one hand still gripping the mantel. “I believe I’m the lady’s fiancé.”
    Heather’s heart seemed to trip over itself.
    Her future husband.
    There was almost a visible force about him. He looked dangerous and intense as he gazed fixedly down at Randolf.
    Then Evan made the mistake of reaching in his coat pocket to withdraw a derringer. Swiftly McCord’s hand brushed back the front flap of his buckskin overcoat to reveal the revolver strapped to his thigh.
    Randolf froze as he eyed the Colt six-shooter.
    “I wouldn’t try it.” McCord’s voice was low, deadly, while danger jumped and pulsed around him like fire. “Where I come from, a man doesn’t draw unless he’s willing to die. And he sure as blazes doesn’t manhandle a woman without her permission.”
    Wisely Evan eased the weapon back into his pocket.
    “Now … I suggest you take your leave before I forget I’m in the presence of a lady.”
    Evan seemed to shake himself then. He appeared dazed, disoriented as he sat up. His gaze shifted slowly to Heather, where she still stood unsteadily by the hearth.
    “Heather, my dear … forgive me… I never meant to hurt you.” He seemed honestly contrite.
    She swallowed. It seemed incongruous for a manof Evan Randolf’s stature and elegance to be sprawling on a parlor floor in defeat. But he deserved worse after his unwarranted attack on her. Evan was no villain, but he had threatened to destroy her because she refused to become his wife. She would find that difficult to forgive or forget.
    “Evan … I think it best if you leave.”
    “Yes…”
    She saw pain in his eyes, and shame. For the first time in her long relationship with him, she wondered if she might have mistaken his feelings for her. Perhaps Evan truly did feel a deeper attachment than possessiveness.
    He climbed slowly to his feet. Giving her a long, last glance, he finally turned and quit the parlor, brushing past the young woman who was hovering in the doorway