Torn Asunder Read Online Free PDF Page A

door.
    A
smile played around his mouth as his eyes roved her from head to foot,
lingering on her face. "You look as though you might survive. I must say I
like the color of your skin better this way than the green it was earlier.
You're still a little pale."
    "I
still feel a little pale." Her smile was weak, her lips wobbling a bit.
"Dev, I want to apologize for..."
    "Is
that the silk punjabi outfit I brought you from
India
last year? I love that blue
and turquoise combination with your hair and eyes." Dev spoke softly, his
hands reaching for her, the growl in his voice making the muscles in her
stomach expand and contract like clenching fingers.
    She
responded to his kiss, welcoming his tongue, feeling the curl of heat grow in
her lower body. She pushed at his shoulders wanting to finish what she had to
say to him.
    Dev
allowed her lips to pull back a fraction.
    "Dev,
I didn't mean to embarrass you last evening. Was it very bad? I know how
conservative the Hopewells are. Did they think... I mean, was it—"
    "Hopey's
sister Corinne sniffed a few times but the old boy was very understanding. He
was worried more about you being sick, than about you being tipsy, love."
    His
hand swept down her spine in a soft caress. "You were more beautiful than any
woman there. And, drunk or sober, you couldn't make me one bit ashamed of
you." His strong white teeth nipped gently at her chin. "My opinion
is the only one that matters in that firm, and they had better know and believe
it." Dev's voice had the ruthless quality that crept into it from time to
time. Cle had never been the brunt of it, but she was made fully aware that Dev
was and had been for some time, master of his own destiny, kingpin of the firm
and his family. He might not ever use his title, but there was a tinge of lese
majeste about him that could not be denied.
    He
lifted his head to look at her, the grin back in place. "Now are you going
to feed me, or must I starve?"
    Cle
laughed, feeling somewhat more reassured than she had earlier. "I'm going
to feed you... and it's a surprise." She urged him toward the stairs to go
up and change, then rushed to the kitchen to see to the poaching of the salmon
that had been flown in from the northernmost coast of
Scotland
. Dev
had once told her that he thought the salmon caught off the coast of
Scotland
was
the most succulent in the world. It had been Jaime who had put her in touch
with an importer who had it flown in each day. Tonight seemed the golden time
to serve it. Mrs. Hubbard had picked it up in the afternoon, then had fixed the
rutabagas Dev said were a "must" to accompany the salmon poached in
the driest and palest of sherries. The yellow turnip had never been a favorite
with Cle because it was too smelly and strong. Baked in butter and lemon with
coarse ground black pepper on the top, the vegetable had a mouth watering
appeal for her now. The salad was endive and hard cooked egg with crumbled
Roquefort, lightly coated with oil and vinegar.
    Cle
was stubborn about the wines they drank, insisting the upstate
New York
champagne, brut
blanc de blanc, was the equal of French. She was a staunch New Yorker. She gave
a last adjustment to the centerpiece of tiny pink roses and baby's breath and
sighed deeply.
    "Well,
well, this is beautiful, darling. Are you going to seduce me?" Dev
sauntered into the room, his long stride taking him to her side in an instant,
his mouth a welcome pressure on hers. He reached around her into the ice bucket
that stood next to his seat. "Ah, a very good year in
New York
, I know."
    "Of
course. There are no bad years in
New
York
," Cle shot back, knowing he expected it.
    He
smiled down at her, his arm not releasing her as he lifted his head, a puzzled
look crossing his face. "You know something smells just like Western Isle
salmon. What is it?"
    "Western
Isle salmon!" Cle was gleeful as she watched his face change. Taking his
hand she pulled him from the dining room into the kitchen proudly lifting