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Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle CelmerЧитать онлайн книгу.

Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress - Michelle  Celmer


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my lover when my father returns from Savannah tomorrow. I only know that whatever happens, every moment I have spent in Z.’s arms will have been worth it. He is my all. My one true love.

      Disappointed to find the journal ended with that passage, Selene closed the diary, turned down the light and tried to sleep. She thought about the mysterious lovers and questioned how a man could have so much power over a woman that she would risk it all to be with him. Perhaps even risk her own life.

      No doubt about it, Adrien Morrell had cast his spell over Selene. Now it was up to her to break free, before she, too, found herself caught in the clutches of obsession and allowed him to do anything he pleased.

      She was quickly becoming his obsession.

      Adrien knew all about obsession. Possession. Once he set a plan in motion, be it business or pleasure, he dove in with dogged determination until he got what he wanted. And he wanted her.

      Tonight had been a first step toward his goal. A good step. He’d expected her to resist him a little more, but instead she had responded to his kiss with surprising enthusiasm. Unfortunately, even that minimal contact had set him on fire.

      After stripping out of all his clothes, he downed the last bit of scotch, set the glass aside and walked to the double doors leading outside. He parted the curtains to see if Selene had ventured onto the veranda, as she had the other night. He found only an empty balcony to match the emptiness in his soul.

      He shut off the lights, stretched out on his back across the bed and ran a slow hand down his abdomen. Knowing Selene was only a few steps away made him harder than he’d been in some time. Had him gritting his teeth and firming his resolve not to go to her. He wouldn’t do that until he had an invitation. And he expected to have one, signed, sealed and delivered, very soon.

      Right now, he would do whatever he had to do to keep his need for her in check—until the time was right.

      He sat motionless at the end of the veranda in the same wicker sofa he’d occupied when Selene had first met him. The full moon cast his imposing frame in bluish light, yet it failed to soften his features, particularly his eyes. Those spellbinding eyes that he kept aimed on her. He looked every bit the stoic king holding court. A dark king.

      Totally entranced, Selene maintained her distance a few feet away, watching, waiting. Waiting for him to speak, to move. To say her name.

      Like a practiced hypnotist, he called to her simply with his gaze and a slight nod of his head. She effortlessly walked toward him, her mind caught in a fog, her lungs all but absent of air. She noticed immediately the lack of noise— no rustling breeze, no sounds from the swamp below. Not even the chirp of a cricket. Although she found that odd, she kept moving forward until she stood before him. She also realized he was completely nude—and aroused.

      Though he didn’t utter a word, she recognized exactly what he wanted. As if bankrupt of free will, she clasped the hem of her gown, pulled it over her head and dropped it onto the ground beside her. Without the least bit of hesitation, she reached out and took his extended hand, allowed him to position her thighs on either side of his thighs. She released a soundless sigh when he lifted her up, then guided himself inside her. The sensations were potent, indescribable. She wanted more, needed more. Needed him to alleviate the dull ache, erase all the years of disappointment. Yet when he failed to move, she knew what he was asking of her. Knew that he waited for her to move first. She began a steady cadence and, in that moment, she became a woman she didn’t recognize. An uninhibited woman who strived to please him, as well as herself, as he joined her in reckless abandon.

      Still, there was no noise, no sounds of broken breaths, no quiet moans of satisfaction. Only absolute silence. Selene could feel the beat of her heart, the flutter of her pulse, the pressure beginning to build as she hurled toward a climax. Then Adrien stopped moving altogether and buried his face in the cleft of her breasts.

      She wanted to ask why he had stopped, but she couldn’t speak. She could only lift his head and force him to look at her. Again she saw his utter pain immediately before his face began to blur and fade completely, followed by a flash of white light that blinded her.

      Selene forced her eyes open and bolted upright. She wasn’t on the veranda, or outside at all. She was in bed.

      Frantically she searched the darkened room, only to discover she was completely alone. She patted her body to find her gown was still intact. Obviously she’d been dreaming. A very detailed dream that had seemed so very, very real.

      Then awareness dawned. No, not a dream at all. A fantasy.

       His fantasy.

      Selene collapsed back onto the mattress and rolled to her side, taking the spare pillow and slipping it between her knees. Adrien had unwittingly invaded her mind, bringing with him erotic images that she wouldn’t soon forget. She couldn’t comprehend why she was so open to his thoughts, or why those thoughts were so strong that they would disrupt her sleep. She also found it amazing that he would imagine her to be so unrestrained. If he knew that wasn’t her normal self, would he still want her? She also recognized what he had been doing, because she had experienced all the sensations that he had through this wondrous, disturbing connection they now shared. Yet something had caused him to pull back, to stop before reaching the release he’d obviously been seeking.

      Another bright flare of light drew Selene’s attention toward the curtained doors, and so did the shadowy figure moving across the veranda. A storm was brewing on the horizon, and someone was outside her room. She suspected she knew the identity of that someone. Still, she had to know, had to confirm that before she could rest.

      On wobbly legs, she left the bed, tiptoed to the doors and opened the curtains ever so slightly. She discovered him standing at the railing only a few feet away staring off into the distance, his arms crossed on the ledge, his leg bent at the knee, his foot propped on the bottom rail. The occasional flash of lightning revealed the finer points of his form turned slightly profile to her—beautifully naked and a wonder to behold. A steady rain began to fall and still he didn’t move, seemingly unconcerned with the light show playing out above him. Rivulets of water gathered on his skin and slid down his body—over the coil of muscle on his bicep, down the path of his spine and the curve of his buttocks. He turned his face up, slicked both hands through his hair and let the rain wash over him, as if engaged in some kind of cleansing ritual.

      Selene continued to be transfixed by the image he created against the turbulent skies … until he looked back at her. As if he’d ordained it, another bolt of lightning illuminated his face.

      In that moment, she noted the flash of remorse in his beautiful face. She also saw the hunger in his eyes. The desire. And Selene feared she saw something else she might not welcome. Her destiny.

      Four

      For the past two mornings, Selene had waited until she’d heard Adrien leave his room before she got out of bed. Waited until she was certain she wouldn’t have to face him before she took her morning bath and headed downstairs. She hadn’t seen him at all since their encounter in his office, or since he’d occupied her mind, and she thought that was probably best for the time being.

      Today Ella had left a note stating she had gone into town and would be out until that evening, allowing Selene some privacy to make a call she’d needed to make for a while now. After closing herself in the small office off the kitchen, she withdrew her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans and keyed in the number.

      When her sister answered with a cheerful, “Hello,” Selene released the breath she’d been holding. “It’s me, Hannah,” she said.

      “It’s about time you called. I’ve been worried sick about you.”

      “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.” Busy trying to keep her brain above water and out of the clutches of the master of the house. “Are you feeling okay?”

      “Other than I’ve got an extra ten pounds sitting on my bladder, I have another couple of weeks before I deliver this kid and Mother is still upset that I’m having the baby at


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