Mistress of the Storm Read Free Page A

or lady, she brought his body to life under her gaze. He felt the blood in his veins and the fabric as it pulled against his erection—sensations gone for months. Being a harlot made it easier somehow to want her just for physical release.
    Not daring to leave it to chance or willing to delay, Duncan looked over at the man who’d brought her in and waited for his answer. When Davin crossed his arms over his chest and turned as well, a nod was hastily delivered. Duncan held out his hand to Isabel and waited for her to accept it.
    His stomach clenched even as his cock surged with anticipation and his skin ached. He held his breath, unsure if the pride he saw in her eyes would allow that public declaration of what was to happen. The moment spun out between them, drawing the silent observation of everyone around them until he could see nothing but her. He could almost hear the sound of her shallow breaths as he waited. Then, as though moving with exquisitely slow motions, she lifted her hand and placed it in his.
    A wave of heat and a shock pulsed through him in that very moment. He gasped at the intensity of it, for it burned without harming as it coursed through his body. Her matching gasp and the surprise in her gaze told him she’d felt it as well. Duncan closed his fingers around her hand, guiding her out of her seat and along the table until she could step closer.
    Her scent flooded him with a mix of flowers, arousal and something unexpected, a hint of innocence. Duncan inhaled again as he drew her to him and placed his arm around her waist. She shook her head, but he sensed it was more out of confusion or surprise over the growing attraction between them than denial. When they reached the corridor outside the hall, he hastened their pace. He guided her up the stone stairway to his chambers in the tower and could not help that they were almost running when they reached his door, both out of breath. He flung the door open, surprising Ornolf, who remained within.
    “Out.”
    Ornolf glanced from Duncan to Isabel, squinted, and frowned before offering a cursory bow and leaving them.
    Duncan faced her and waited for some sign of hesitancy or refusal before closing the door. A whore had no choice, true, but he did not want to think she was there against her will. He needed to believe she felt the force between them and wanted it, needed to believe it almost as much as he wanted her naked beneath him.
    After months of feeling less and less until nothing remained within his heart or soul, the flood of feeling nearly overwhelmed him. Usually it was the power surging within him as he neared the fullness of the moon that drew women to him. But that would not begin for another sennight or so. Duncan did not understand the need he felt for her, the hunger to have her, but he could not deny it or stop it any more than he could stop breathing.
    The door slammed closed and it was only the two of them.

Chapter Two
     
    I sabel could not breathe.
    She tried to tell herself it was from running up three flights of stairs to reach the chamber, but she knew it for the lie it was.
    Shame had assailed her belowstairs for she had been forced to accept the man’s invitation while her sister watched. She never wanted Thora tainted by what she’d done and never wanted her to witness it. Isabel did not fool herself into believing her sister was ignorant of what she was and what she did, but for the first time it had been done in Thora’s presence with no way to blunt the embarrassment she must be feeling.
    In the chamber, a storm built around and between Isabel and Duncan. Heat poured through her as his gaze burned into her. She feared for her soul and her sanity as that storm beat against the defenses she’d built around herself.
    She tried to control her breathing, drawing in several deep breaths and letting them out slowly. The slamming door made her jump in surprise. The man stood there staring at her and she wondered if he felt what she