Whispers at Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page A

the man snarled and spun around. Hot, black fury
twisted his scowling face. But as soon as he saw her, his mouth
went slack in surprise. He stared unbelieving at the absurd sight
Amanda presented, wrapped in a blanket and brazenly wielding a
pistol. She looked no more than a child or a sprite of a woman.
    “Hold still!” Amanda shouted, clutching the
blanket with one hand and waving the pistol threateningly with the
other. “Who are you?”
    The fair-haired woman’s face drained of
color beneath her heavily rouged cheeks. She crushed a dove-gray
velvet bonnet in one white-knuckled hand as the other flew to her
heaving bosom that bulged like great white melons from the open
bodice of her gown.
    Amanda stared back at the couple and chewed
her lip painfully. She had interrupted a cozy little rendezvous.
But who were they and what gave them the audacity to use Wicklow
for their assignation? Her small hand grew numb around the handle
of the pistol. The fury in the dark-haired man’s lean, sardonic
face yielded to a look of taunting humor. The corners of his mouth
twitched as he gazed knowingly at her from behind lowered
eyelids.
    “Why, it’s dear Cousin Amanda,” he said
smoothly. “Welcome to Wicklow.” A devilish smile framed a flash of
white teeth. The man took a step toward Amanda, a cautious one.
    Amanda gasped and colored fiercely. Her
whole body shook at the sound of his voice speaking her name.
    “Ryne?” she asked weakly. His face was
shadowed in the dim light, but as he drew near, Amanda could see
the piercing blue eyes and the handsome features of his face. It
was most certainly Ryne. His hair was jet black and arrow straight.
Black breeches fitted tightly on his thighs and loins. With them he
wore high black boots, nothing more. His muscular chest had a mat
of crisp black hair that narrowed and trailed downward like a dark
shadow slipping over his gleaming skin.
    The sight of him, head thrown proudly back,
arms crossed imperiously over his chest, and only half-dressed,
made Amanda critically aware she wore nothing beneath the
blanket.
    “Ryne Sullivan! You beast!” The blond woman
came to life with a burst of wrath. She struck Ryne on the back and
shoulders with her rumpled velvet bonnet. “How dare you trick me
into coming here!” Her high voice shook with feigned indignation
and her large bosom heaved with the labor of heavy breathing as she
made fumbling attempts to fasten the bodice of her gown. “If I’d
known what you intended, I’d have never set foot in this
house.”
    Ryne’s piercing blue eyes went to the blond
woman. He had forgotten she was there.
    “Be calm, Maggie.” Ryne’s voice came softly,
but a hard, cold look stole into his eyes. His lips lifted swiftly
into a cynical smile. “My intentions were the same as the last time
we came here.”
    Maggie’s eyes dropped in defeat. “You are a
beast, Ryne.” She pronounced the words tightly and followed them
with a coy smile. “I’ll wait downstairs,” she added, fluffing out
her bonnet and giving Ryne a wink as she edged past him. Maggie
nodded knowingly to Amanda as she eased by her in the doorway. She
could be heard breathing a deep sigh as she trotted hastily down
the hall.
    Ryne’s probing eyes assessed Amanda. A hint
of challenge hovered in the burning look he gave her. He had seen
only the green fire in her eyes at first glance. Now he was
evaluating the delicate lines of her face. A lovely fawnlike
creature she was, too. She had her mother’s beauty, the high
cheekbones and straight nose and the perfect little mouth that had
been Sarah Fairfax’s trademark.
    What a faultless package for a schemer,
someone cunning enough to hoodwink an old woman into leaving her an
inheritance. He could imagine how she used that guileless face and
sweet voice to play on his mother’s maternal nature.
    The tips of his nostrils flared as he
breathed out a sigh. He found himself wishing her character matched
her elfin beauty. She had the