The Night That Started It All Read Online Free PDF Page A

She caught the desire glowing in his velvet eyes, and felt confused.
    Having seduced her thus far, was he having second thoughts?
    ‘What sort of things inspire you to write?’ he said.
    ‘Oh, well.’ She made an expansive motion with her hand. ‘All sorts. Owls. The moon.’ His mouth was so achingly close. Her lips, her entire being hungered to be touched, stroked, enjoyed, caressed, pampered, kissed,
loved …
    Would he touch her again, or was that
it
?
    ‘Owls?’ He sounded surprised.
    ‘Oh, owls are really very magical, ethereal beings. Have you … have you ever read—
Rebecca
?’
    He frowned in thought. ‘What is that? Is it to do with owls?’
    ‘No, no.’ She laughed heartily. ‘It’s … I guess it’s a romance. A—mystery. A bit of a thriller. Rebecca has the family boat-house furnished like a private apartment. Her secret love nest where she can meet her illicit lover.’
    He lifted his hands. ‘I don’t think I know it.
Romances, enfin …’
He made an amused, negative shrug.
    What an idiot she was. Of course men didn’t read romances. Just as well, or they’d know too much.
    His eyes glinting, he cast a smiling glance at Neil and Em’s boathouse. ‘What do you think? Would this one—have furniture?’
    All the fine hairs stood up on her spine and shivered in suspenseful, gleeful exultation. She hesitated a breathless instant, then spread her hands. ‘Well, we could always see. I know where they keep the key.’
    He looked keenly at her. Said offhandedly, like a guy who didn’t care one way or the other, ‘Are you sure?’
    The thing was, though, his voice had deepened in timbre just that betraying bit.
    She gazed fleetingly into his eyes, not needing to read beyond that hot, lustful gleam. He cared all right. He wanted her, and she felt propelled by a wicked, reckless desire to mount that untamed stallion and do something wild.
    ‘Sure I’m sure.’ Her breath came faster.
    She slipped her hand under the iron tile between the pylon and the floor where she’d seen Neil hide the key a dozen times.
    Bingo. It was there.
    Her hands shook so badly as she fitted it into the lock, she had to hunch to prevent Luc from seeing.
    Once inside, she was assailed with the boat smell of paintand varnish and salty, fishy weekends. Neil’s cruiser floated silently in the lower room, a ghostly presence in the silent dark. A flight of steps led to the upper loft where supplies were stored.
    Shards of moonlight illuminated the walls. Shari indicated the way, stumbling once on the stairs. Luc took her arm to steady her.
    She didn’t speak, just turned her breathless gaze to him. Even in the dim light his eyes were burning. Her blood ran hot in her breasts, fanned fire between her legs.
    They finished the climb to the loft. She was trembling again, in the grip of something more elemental now than mere nerves. She faced him, aflame.
    He pulled her to him. This kiss was a rough and hungry collision, his tongue in her mouth, possessive, lustful, his hands in her hair, moulding her shoulders, unfastening her bra. She dragged at his shirt and fumbled to release the buttons, avid to feel his naked skin beneath her palms.
    With the mingled scents of aftershave, wine and man rising giddily in her head, she thrilled as he stroked her breasts. Then his mouth closed over her nipple and the blaze in her blood roared. She sobbed in deep quivering breaths as he slipped his hand inside her pants, caressing, stroking her engorged sex until she swooned with ecstasy.
    Then he slid a finger inside her and massaged, sending waves of erotic pleasure thrilling through her burning flesh. She rocked against his hand, maddened, desperate.
    ‘Oh,’ she groaned, clinging to his shoulders. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’
    To her intense disappointment his hand paused. She felt his hot breath on her neck.
    ‘I don’t have any protection with me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Do you have anything?’
    ‘What?
What
?’ She could hardly believe