Lady Vice Read Free

head swam. What kind of a woman wished death upon her husband?
    She desperately pushed the question away, but the answer pulsed with each beat of her heart. Me. Me. Me. A terrible woman like me.
    What had she become? When had her heart filled with so much godless hate?
    “I…I…” Fruitlessly, she searched the murky soup of her thoughts for words.
    Behind her, on either side, the tree trunk dug into her perspiring palms. If she could sit, she was certain she could speak. Inch by careful inch, she slid down, dimly aware of a scraping friction. Her beautiful dress would be ruined. Did it matter? Did anything matter?
    “Lavinia, for God’s sake, talk to me.”
    Max sounded urgent. He crouched and reached out. His touch was gentle and his hands were warm. Skin against skin. He must have removed his gloves. His palm’s heat warmed her chilled cheek.
    He was real. This warm, vital man caressing her face was the reason she had survived the dark days of her marriage. Whenever the night had seemed frightening or endlessly lonely, she had lulled herself to sleep by silently repeating his name. She’d used him like a blanket, curling his image close and tucking herself into remnants of remembered love.
    The memory caused another searing pain, and she pulled her legs into her chest.
    “Hush, love, hush,” he whispered.
    His breath tickled her face, contrasting the cool breeze blowing across the water.
    Strange. Breathing was so much easier with him close. But everything was wrong. She was angry at him. Why?
    Because he left me to find his fortune. Because he left me alone and vulnerable to men like Vaile. She waited for her anger to pulse to life. Instead her heart said, he is here now .
    She made no move to push him back and may have even leaned toward him.
    His lips touched—softly—against her forehead. He spoke, but she could not understand his words. He was saying something about protection and safety…
    Yes, safety.
    What an inviting thought.
    How long had it been since love surrounded her? Since she had been warmed by place and family and home? After she had left Vaile, every letter she’d sent home had been returned to her as if home had never existed, as if she had never existed. But she’d been loved once, hadn’t she? Max was living proof.
    She raised her eyes to his. Past and present, fantasy and reality, they all swirled together.
    “Oh, Vinia.”
    She parted her lips as he spoke the affectionate name she had not heard for an eternity. He brushed his mouth against hers. His kiss’s warmth was soothing and tender.
    Yes, tenderness.
    Need uncoiled in her belly, and her knotted shoulders miraculously loosened. She floated—soft and sentient.
    Yes. Please. More. His hands were heaven. He cupped her cheeks as if she were precious. She closed her eyes and savored the tingling sensation as he traced a meandering line along her jaw.
    Again and again his lips met hers. Bliss.
    Seeking greater solace, she grasped his face and sunk into his welcoming warmth. He tasted better than warm honey—not sweeter, but rich and smooth, delicious and calming. Each taste was a morsel stolen.
    She’d thought desire as dead in her as wheat in a drought-stricken field. But, lured by his scent—soap, sweat, and male—desire raised its weary head. She’d played a role for so long she’d forgotten how true want could bubble up like spring water through earth.
    Then, she heard Vaile’s voice as if he were standing by her side. When will you cease dreaming of the man who abandoned you? If he ever loved you, he would not want you now .
    God in heaven, what was she doing? Desire was a snarling, snapping dragon who breathed an obliterating fire. Max kissed an illusion of his memory, not the shamed and black-hearted woman she’d become.
    And Lady Vaile did not permit any man liberties, not anymore. In a swell of panic, she broke away and shoved.
    The magic disintegrated and she gasped—the dew had seeped through her petticoats. Her