Andrea Kane Read Free Page B

But,” he bit out, his jaw clenched, “given the fact that I have a strange aversion to worrying over whether the heir to Sherburgh is indeed mine, my choice will not be Abigail Devon.”
    When Cyril opened his mouth to protest, Braden shook his head vehemently.
    “The subject is closed. You are overstepping your bounds, Uncle.” He lowered his empty glass to the table with a loud thud. “I am going out.”
    He needed some fresh air.
    He needed some faith.
    The air would be easier to acquire.
    He slammed the door behind him, leaving the library and the house.
    Outside, Braden strolled about the vast grounds of Sherburgh. He willed himself to relax, letting his mind wander where it would.
    The words he had said to Cyril echoed in his head. A woman he liked and respected? A virtual impossibility.
    Unbidden, an image appeared of an exquisite, ethereal creature with coal-black hair and eyes like flawless aquamarines. A young woman of strength and courage, of wisdom beyond her years. A breathtaking angel without guile or pretense who was on the very brink of womanhood.
    Kassie. The earnest and lovely girl that had looked up at him so adoringly, asking that he wait for her to grow up, was by now a ravishing beauty of eighteen.
    Braden had thought of her often these long years, feeling strangely restless and vaguely unfulfilled at the memory. Countless times he had been tempted to seek her out for the sheer pleasure of her company but had resisted. She was young, too young, and she called upon emotions within him that he preferred to leave unexamined. He had, instead, contented himself with the hope that she was happy, that she would one day find someone worthy of her goodness. He was too old, too experienced, too jaded to be anything in her life … even merely a friend.
    Braden turned in the direction of the beach, staring off into the darkened sky.
    He could almost hear her call his name.
    Dark. It was so dark. She couldn’t see.
    Cold. She could feel the cold. It gnawed through her body.
    Oh God, she was so afraid, so alone. Oh please, someone come … someone help …
    And still it grew colder, darker.
    She began to run.
    She cried out, but no sound emerged. She ran faster, faster still. She was falling … falling. She could feel the air rush by her, dragging her down, down. She couldn’t breathe … couldn’t breathe.
    Suddenly it appeared. A huge black beast. It reared back on its hind legs, opening its cavernous mouth. It was going to devour her. And she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t run. She was frozen. Then falling … falling. Alone … alone …
    The scream began deep inside her, rose up to her mouth, and pierced the silence of the room. An endless scream of inescapable terror.
    Kassie was wide awake, trembling uncontrollably, struggling for air. She was assailed by a stark panic that would not be assuaged. Frantically she combated the fear, taking deep, deliberate breaths, purposefully wiping her mind free of the chilling images.
    Moments passed. Slowly the insurmountable terror receded, diminished until it was a dull ache inside her. With a shuddering sigh Kassie eased herself back down onto the pillows, closed her eyes, and soothed herself in the same manner that she had each night since her fifteenth birthday … by conjuring up an image of Braden Sheffield.
    Braden. Handsome, powerful, tender. Though they had met for but an hour, it seemed she had known him for a lifetime. He was compassionate and gentle, yet she could feel his reluctance to display these qualities, his need to hide them beneath a mask of self-protection that experience had only served to reinforce. It had been three years, and still the memory of their only meeting had not faded. If anything, it had grown stronger, clearer. Kassie could remember every detail of the way he looked, the things he said.
    The things he didn’t say.
    His eyes had offered her his friendship, his strength … and something more. There