The Snow Bride. Anne McAllister

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      She felt his thumb lightly trace her sensitized lower lip.

      “The pain of his betrayal is still fresh in your heart,” he said in a low voice. “You want to take revenge.”

      Right now, Lars was the furthest thing from her mind. But opening her eyes, she saw his watchful, searching gaze. “Wouldn’t you want revenge if someone betrayed you?”

      “Yes,” he said instantly. Then he shook his head. “But you’re different. You care about people. You have a good heart. Committing an act of revenge would hurt you. And…I don’t want to hurt you.”

      “You won’t. You can’t. I will never go back to him.”

      “You think that now,” he said softly, stroking her cheek as he looked down at her with longing. “Christ, I cannot believe I am trying to talk you out of this, but…you cannot have had many lovers. Forgive me, but you are not jaded enough. You would not have sex, like I do. When you go to bed with someone,” he said lightly, “I fear you make love with all your heart.”

      She choked out a laugh. “I have no idea. It’s all still hypothetical.”

      Xerxes went very still. “What?”

      This was humiliating. Her cheeks went red-hot, but he had to know. “You’re going to laugh.”

      He did not look as if he were at all tempted to laugh. His black eyes were wide. The lanai was utterly silent except for the sound of the seagulls flying over the beach. “What do you mean, you have no idea?”

      “It will sound stupid to a man like you.”

      Uncertainty filled his dark eyes as he frowned, tilting his head. “But Rose. You can’t possibly mean…”

      His voice trailed off. She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak the words out loud.

      “I’m a virgin.”

      He stared at her.

      “But you can’t be,” he whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

      “And it’s even worse than that.” She took a deep breath. “You’re the first man who’s ever really kissed me.”

      With a gasp, he grabbed her by the shoulders, searching her eyes. His handsome face was a picture of shock. “No.”

      “That’s why Lars threw me a fake wedding,” she choked out. “Because I wouldn’t kiss him. I barely let him peck my cheek at our wedding ceremony. He knew I was saving myself for my wedding night.”

      “And now?” he demanded, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully.

      She lifted her chin. “Now I want you to kiss me.”

      For a moment, he stared at her. Then he exhaled with a flare of nostril. “Do not offer yourself to me out of revenge,” he ground out. “Do not!”

      “I’m not!”

      Xerxes looked down at her. “You told me you want a love that lasts forever. And it wouldn’t be forever with me. I am not the sort of man you bring home, settle down with, the man who’ll marry you!”

      “I don’t care.”

      His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Don’t you understand?” he said harshly. “I will still trade you.”

      “I know.”

      “So what the hell are you thinking?”

      She took a deep breath.

      “I’m tired of waiting,” she whispered, “for a husband I can’t find. A man who might not even exist. I want to know what it feels like to live. Here. Now.” She faltered. “Unless…unless you don’t want me after all.”

      Raking back his dark hair, he cursed under his breath.

      “You said you love Laetitia,” she continued in a small voice. “Loving her, you might be too honorable to ever let a flirtation get out of hand by betraying her—”

      He grabbed her.

      “I am not honorable,” he bit out. “And you’ve got it all wrong. Laetitia is not my lover and she never was.”

      She sucked in her breath. “She’s not?”

      When he spoke, every word was weighed and grudging, pulled from him like blood from a stone. “My feelings…for Laetitia are more…familial…in nature.”

      “Familial?” She sucked in her breath. “Like how?” He didn’t answer.

      “Is she your cousin? Your niece?” She bit her lip. “Surely she’s not young enough to be your…your daughter?”

      Clenching his jaw, he looked away.

      “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

      “No,” he bit out.

      “Because you promised her you wouldn’t?”

      He gave a single unsteady nod.

      Familial. So she wasn’t his mistress. She wasn’t his lover. Laetitia was a member of his family, or at least that was how he felt toward her.

      Rose’s heart suddenly lightened. She took a deep breath. She looked up at him.

      “You also promised,” she said softly, reaching up to stroke his face, “that you would kiss me if I begged you.”

      Looking down at her, he sucked in his breath.

      “I’m begging you.” She let her hand slowly trail down his bare throat, placing her palm against his shirt, over the rapid beat of his heart. “Kiss me. Kiss me now.”

      She heard him gasp, then he grabbed her hands in his own. “All right,” he rasped. His voice was raw. “All right.”

      “All right?”

      “God help me—” He crushed his mouth against hers, hard and hungry. Cradling the back of her head, he shoved her against the wall, kissing her so deeply that she nearly gasped from the exquisite, anguished pleasure. She felt his hardness against her, felt his body so much stronger and more powerful than her own. But she was no longer afraid. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his hair as she gasped for breath, tilting back her throat.

      He kissed down her neck, his hands moving over her thin cover-up, murmuring words of desire that she could not hear clearly, but she still heard them ringing through her body. Cupping her breasts with his hands, he bit the edge of her throat and shoulder, causing sparks of fire to spread down her body, making her shiver and shake.

      With a ragged gasp, he pulled away, abruptly meeting her gaze. “You’re cold.”

      Without waiting for a reply, he lifted her up against his chest, СКАЧАТЬ