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The Sedgwick Curse. Shawna DelacorteЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Sedgwick Curse - Shawna Delacorte


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her hair. She ran her hand across the back of her neck in an effort to still the tiny shiver.

      Taylor turned around and found herself looking up into the intensity of Donovan’s blue eyes and his handsome features. She stepped backward and quickly averted her eyes, pretending a momentary interest in the uneven cobblestones that covered the floor. “This barn was already a century old before most Europeans even entertained the idea of the world being round and land existing across the ocean to the west. That makes this all that much more impressive to me.” She looked around the barn again, stared up at the abbot loft, then peered farther up into the dimly lit rafters in an attempt to locate the birds she could hear. “If these walls could talk they would surely have quite a few exciting tales to tell.”

      “Perhaps it’s just as well that they can’t say anything.” His mind darted to the lodge house and the horror of the story those walls could tell. His words came out in a near whisper, as if he did not want to even think them let alone say them. “This many centuries of history is bound to offer up a few dark tales of brutality…and even madness.” He shoved the bothersome thoughts away and continued in a more confident manner. “After all, the Middle Ages were not a particularly gracious or genteel period.”

      Again the details of the murders of a century ago filled his mind along with the confusion of the strange dreams and happenings that had become part of his present. The uncertainty that had plagued him from the moment he’d laid eyes on Taylor continued to shove at his reality, intensified by his strong physical attraction to her.

      Without saying anything else, Donovan placed his hand at the small of her back and gently steered her out the door of the tithe barn. His touch again sent little tingles of excitement racing through her body. They walked down the path together as he continued the tour of the estate.

      “Over here are the stables. Of course, there are only a half-dozen or so horses these days, which leaves most of the stable area unused.” He suddenly stopped walking and looked questioningly at her. “Do you ride?”

      “Yes, I used to ride quite a bit. I’ve only ridden with a Western saddle, though. I’ve never tried an English saddle. Unfortunately, I haven’t had any opportunity to ride for the past few years.”

      “Perhaps you could make some time during your research and I can show you the rest on the estate. It’s best seen by horseback, where we’re not restricted to the roads.”

      His question had seemed almost tentative, as if he were unsure about asking it. She offered him an engaging smile as she replied to his invitation. “I’d like that…very much.”

      Jerry Denton, her ex-fiancé, had owned a small two-passenger airplane. During the time Taylor had been dating him and through their subsequent engagement, he had often flown them from Kansas to Colorado where he had a friend who owned a ranch. They had spent many hours horseback riding in the mountains. In retrospect it was the only part of the relationship that held any value for her.

      It had been a messy breakup and had left Taylor gun-shy where men were concerned. Even though she had made a concentrated effort to avoid any type of emotional entanglement for the past three years, she could not deny that this man—Lord Donovan Sedgwick, one of a long line of Sedgwick gentry—had her senses running amok.

      The one good thing that did come from the emotionally painful breakup of her engagement was the additional time she had spent with her grandmother. Those special times had fueled her desire to search out her roots. Her grandmother had died two years ago at the age of 102. Her mind had been sharp and clear until the very end.

      And now Taylor was standing on the very ground where her grandmother had been born and talking to the descendent of someone who had been responsible for the death of her great-grandparents.

      “Over here are the greenhouses and hothouses. The small one is for flowers and plants that are ultimately transplanted to the gardens surrounding the house. The large ones are vegetable gardens that provide us with produce almost year-round. Actually, with the vegetable gardens, grain and feed crops, livestock and poultry, the estate can be self-sufficient as far as food is concerned.” He held the door open for her and they entered one of the large glass structures.

      They continued the tour well into the afternoon. He carefully kept her away from the lodge house and cemetery, even though the police had taken down the yellow crime-scene tape from around the crypt. He pointed out the areas that would be utilized for the annual festival.

      “The tithe barn will be used by local antique dealers. We’ll erect a large tent on the south lawn for crafts people from the nearby villages to display their wares. The field adjacent to the barn will be turned into a minicarnival. The north lawn will be used for the children’s competitions such as the sack race, three-legged race, tug-of-war…things like that.”

      For the most part, each kept the conversation on a superficial level, much as it had been during breakfast. Taylor asked some questions about specific aspects of physically setting up the festival, and Donovan provided her with the requested information. She was very impressed with everything Donovan had shown her. Even though the house gave off ominous vibes of past misdeeds, in the sunlight it was beautiful and the interior elegantly appointed. The estate seemed every bit as prosperous as she had first thought.

      She gestured toward the swimming pool. “This is a very interesting juxtaposition…a fourteenth-century tithe barn next to a modern swimming pool and hot tub.”

      Donovan took a steadying breath. No matter how much he didn’t want it to be, she made his heart pound and his pulse race. He continued to be troubled by the eerie sensation that he knew her.

      Donovan had been far more discreet in his relationships with women than his cousin. Alex already had two failed marriages and a flamboyant lifestyle that included many unprofitable forays into the private casinos in London. On several occasions Donovan had paid off his cousin’s gambling debts.

      While Donovan had engaged in numerous quiet affairs away from the village, he had never married. But he had never before been so immediately and strongly attracted to any woman as he was to Taylor MacKenzie. It was an overwhelming and mysterious attraction he couldn’t explain and didn’t understand.

      An attraction that frightened him as much as it fascinated him.

      He took an impulsive step in Taylor’s direction, brushed his fingertips against her cheek, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers. It was a fleeting kiss, barely more than a touching of the lips, but one that held all the heat and passion he felt when he had resisted the urge to kiss her earlier. He ran his fingers through her hair, then started to wrap her in his embrace.

      “Taylor…I—” He let her go and took a quick step backward, putting distance between them. He immediately berated himself for his foolish and unacceptable behavior. The words felt awkward as they left his mouth. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

      Taylor’s words came out as a startled whisper. “That’s all right.” She had to force the rest, not at all sure what to say or how to say it. “No harm done.”

      No harm done? Waves of confusion swept through her. She desperately needed to apply some logic to what had happened. At first a sense of relief washed through her, telling her how thankful she was that he had changed his mind and not pursued the kiss any further. It saved her from having to make a decision about whether to allow it.

      There was no mistaking the ripples of excitement that accompanied her confusion or the heated desire she experienced every time Donovan looked at her. The feeling was almost surreal, as if she was being drawn into something beyond her control—something disturbingly ominous yet so enthralling that she couldn’t resist the temptation. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for the strange dichotomy going on inside her at that moment.

      He was not what she expected when he opened the door to her upon her arrival. Dynamic…yes. Handsome…yes, very. Incredibly sexy…most certainly. Mysterious and secretive…also true. He had a manner she could almost describe as brooding even though the couple of occasions when he displayed his dazzling smile showed an entirely different


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