DEVIL’S EMBRACE by Catherine Coulter

She was silent for many minutes. Finally, she straightened her head and gazed up at him, her eyes clear. “You have never before called me Cassie.”

His fingers lightly touched her cheek as if he wished simply by touching her to clear the red splotches created by his own hand. “No, you are right. Just as there are no olive groves in England, I had believed there was not a Cassie in Italy, only a Cassandra.”

He paused a moment, gazing out over the calm lake. When he finally spoke, Cassie could feel him struggling with himself, though his voice was calm, almost detached.

“Much has happened, and very quickly. If you would prefer to wait some months before we wed, it is your decision.”

She pulled slowly away from him and he let her go. “Why do you still have Joseph guarding me?”

“He is no longer guarding you, cara. He is merely your companion, someone who cares about you and wishes to keep you from any harm. If his presence upsets you, then he will go.”

She sighed and rubbed the palm of her hands against her still-burning cheeks. “No, I do not wish him to go.”

“I am glad. If naught else, perhaps he will keep you from falling into the lake when you handle your sailboat clumsily.”

His jest brought a slight smile to her lips and he allowed his muscles to relax. “And our wedding, Cassandra?”

She gazed up at him, a faint flush covering her cheeks. “I have behaved badly, I think.” She faltered a moment, and then said straightly, “I do not want to be fat, and you know yourself, my lord, that nothing would change, even if we did wait.”

He smiled, picturing her belly swollen with child. “No, nothing would change. That accursed child would continue to grow in happy ignorance inside you.”

“He is not accursed.” She hugged her arms protectively around her stomach. Bright color suddenly stained her cheeks, for he had used the word she had flung at him. “That, I did not mean.”

“But the rest you did.”

“Yes.”

He smiled down at her quizically and offered her his arm. “If the babe is going to make his mother fly into rampages, and scare the wits out of his father, then I fancy I shall have to become stern with him, this very evening.”

“I am certain, my lord, that the babe already believes his father to be a monstrous man, bent upon disrupting his peaceful existence.”

“I shall take that as a compliment, my dear. Now, Cassandra, if you wish to go back to the villa, I shall let Marcello tell you the response of the Dutch shipping representative.”

She forced interest into her eyes. “You know, my lord? Do not tease me. Come, what is the answer?”

He shook his dark head, delighting in the fact that she had regained her balance. “You must learn patience, madam, though I daresay that we shall, within a couple of years, recoup our losses.”

She smiled and nodded her head. She lengthened her step to match his stride.

The earl toweled off his body and quickly donned the undergarments and breeches Scargill handed to him.

“I begin to believe it’s back in Scotland I am,” Scargill said, eyeing the rain-bloated clouds overhead and shivering in the unseasonably cool weather. “And ye, my lord, ye must still insist on yer exercise, even though the weather would make a Scotsman cover his kilts.” He looked out over the lake, and fancied that the water was as cold as were his fingers. He shook his head. The earl, as was his custom, had dived from the narrow wooden dock and swum to the opposite shore and back again with long, powerful strokes, enjoying the invigorating water and, Scargill thought, the strength of his own well-muscled body.

“What are you muttering about, old man?” The earl had heard very little of what Scargill had said, his thoughts on his own sense of well-being after his arduous exercise, and on Cassandra. He was to be married in a week now, and although his friends had loudly and raucously bemoaned his demise as a bachelor, he had only laughed, enormously pleased with himself. After expending so much energy in the pursuit of the only woman he had long known would suit him, he could not imagine feeling any of the trepidation his friends seemed to expect.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *