Secrets of Sin. Chloe HarrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
eyes.
By God.
He’d forgotten how stunningly beautiful she was. His gaze traveled over her appearance. No, she was not simply stunning, she took his breath away. Still.
Gone were the round, youthful cheeks she’d had five years ago, gone to be replaced by sharp features, a little hollow now, but amazingly it emphasized her strong cheekbones. Her arms weren’t as soft looking as they used to be either. They were leaner, muscled.
But, he thought and his face lit up, her ample curves were still all there. He’d always adored her soft curves. They fit to his body perfectly.
And her skin, how could he forget that fascinating bronze color that came from the perfect mix of her father’s dark Afro-Indian coloring and her mother’s pale French complexion.
Seemingly frozen in place as she stood in the door, Emiline’s full rose petal lips were slightly ajar. Goodness, he still remembered what it was like to kiss them, how gentle they were, supple, trembling under his shortly before she’d melt in his arms and arch her body into his. And they tasted like sweet strawberries, seductive, yet innocent.
Perfect.
It’s what he’d thought when he’d first seen her as well. She was perfect. Flawless perfection come to life.
Reinier had forgotten how much he’d wanted her. How much he still wanted her now that he saw her again after such a long time. It all felt so new, yet it wasn’t. Still, it was exciting. Still, she was enticing. Simply seeing her again had his heart pumping heavily in his chest. And something else farther down as well.
He’d always felt physically attracted to her—almost to the point of madness. Yes, he’d always thought he’d go insane if he couldn’t have her.
Time and distance hadn’t lessened her appeal like he’d hoped it would.
She wore a simple linen dress, but nothing looked just plain on her. Whatever she wore, she looked like an angel, especially now that she had her hair down, her still-wet, wild curls fell down her back. He knew they smelt like strawberries as well. Small wood strawberries, like the ones he’d gathered when he was a boy back home.
Reinier also remembered how silken her hair felt on his skin. He’d drape it over him in the night, and lose himself in her utter femininity and mild, soothing fragrance.
The evening tide was almost gone. Almost.
So, while he was here, he might as well renew his memories; he might as well enjoy her soft, pliant body against his. It would be only natural. He was her husband and…
Suddenly remembering why he was here, a cool jolt of reality drew him out of his pleasant musings.
He was not just her husband. She’d made him a cuckold as well. He’d had a purpose coming here, after all.
Upon entering the parlor, Emiline thought she saw a ghost, an evil ghost from her past that had come to unmercifully haunt her. But Reinier was real and standing there in her parlor by the window with his back to her. When he turned around, she thought her heart had stopped beating altogether.
Now he was moving, gracefully, with a certain swing to his every movement, like the predator she thought him to be. Reinier was coming up to her and she knew she should run, should do something, anything but just foolishly stand there, paralyzed by his presence, mesmerized by how he looked at her.
He bowed to her and Emiline blinked. What was he doing? Was he formally…? Emiline gasped as she saw him lifting the book she hadn’t noticed had slipped from her fingers. Absentmindedly, she took it from him and clutched it to her chest, held on to it as if she needed something that felt solid, real.
Nonsense, she chided herself. She needed a shield.
What was he suddenly doing here? Why was he back in her life now?
“Emiline.”
She had to repress the warm, gentle shiver that snaked through her when she heard Reinier’s voice again after such a long time. It was deep and there was still that certain kind of husky mystery in it. Oh, how she’d missed it, how she’d missed hearing him speak, hearing him say her name. He always laid special emphasis on the last syllable, gave it a particular sensual quality that made her skin crawl with delectable memories of how he used to caress her cheek after he’d made love to her and he’d say her name in almost a whisper….
Good Lord.
Emiline had expected anything but this. She’d never again take Justine’s distress lightly. If only she’d listened.
Now not only did she see his eyes wandering up and down her body, she also felt them as they whispered over her. She almost trembled with the sensation that he knew exactly what was underneath her dress.
Her treacherous body instantly started to heat up. When she saw the left corner of his ever-smiling lips move upward, she was so stunned that all she could think was how could she have forgotten how breathtakingly handsome Reinier was.
Yes, his lips were so full that he always seemed to smile, and they made him look soft and sweet. She knew what he was thinking by the way his eyes, his still amazing bright citrus eyes, began to glitter.
She still felt like a rabbit staring at a cougar that had suddenly pounced out of the bushes, just like she had all those years ago when she’d first seen his intense gaze taking her in. All she could do was blink once and swallow hard.
Once more she was mesmerized by his fair beauty. He wasn’t just the most handsome man she’d ever met in her life. Now she remembered why she’d fallen so easily back then. He had a way of making one willingly do almost anything just to hear him say their name, experience his lips against their own, his hands on their body, his body against theirs, his hair tickling their neck and other places the mere thought of which made her blush.
Damn him.
His smile was triumphant even now, because he knew how she felt when he merely looked at her like that.
And curse him. His skin was a sun-baked tan, and Emiline even caught herself wondering for a moment how far his tan would go. His hair, neatly tamed at the back of his head, had faded to a lighter shade in the sun. Now he had small wrinkles around his eyes. Barely there, but they made his alluring, seductive gaze even wilder than ever. He wore a jacket that was exactly the same shade as the green part of his swirling eyes, and his elegant, golden breeches did little to hide the muscular columns underneath.
The years had added to his good looks. She’d thought him handsome then? Well, he was as beautiful as an angel now. So beautiful she’d weep if she could. But she couldn’t do anything at all. She was too stunned.
She bowed her head and gave him the friendliest smile she could manage. “Reinier.”
When he presented his arm, she took it and let him guide her to the table where their tea was set.
Aloof politeness was the right course, Emiline decided while she was sorting through the chaos in her mind. Maybe he’d be gone by the evening tide. If it wasn’t too late for it already?
Emiline busied herself by filling their cups with tea. She could deal with him. She was a strong woman. She was in charge.
Emiline almost believed herself if it hadn’t been for the tiny voice in her head that snickered evilly that she controlled every aspect of her life—save him. But she had a plan to remedy that as well, didn’t she?
The awkward silence in the room now felt oppressing. Emiline brought her cup up to her mouth and sipped elegantly while trying to find a way to start a pleasant conversation with Reinier. But what could she possibly say?
Reinier leaned back and watched her craning her head a little, blinking at him like she always did. She wasn’t showing him any kind of emotion at all. But she had to feel something. Elation or, more likely, anger. Anything that showed him she felt—for him. But she didn’t. Had she ever?
He noticed her hands were trembling.