Free Amelia by Diana Palmer Page A

soft mouth, and he had to fight to keep from dragging her body against him and taking those pretty lips roughly under his own.
    The look in his eyes made Amelia nervous. Her gaze dropped to his chest, and that made it all worse, because in all her life she'd never seen a man with his shirt open like that. It was terribly exciting to see the play of muscles under so much thick hair. It must feel faintly rough against soft skin, she speculated, and her cheeks went red at her renegade thoughts.
    He saw that reaction, and it made his body go taut. He imagined how it might be, to have her bare breasts pressed to his skin, and his pulse began to throb at his temples.
    "Amelia," he said huskily, and pressed his mouth to her soft palm.
    His eyes closed as he savored the faint scent of her cologne that clung to it, and he knew that she was as helpless as he was. His own vulnerability made him angry even as it stirred his senses to their limit. His teeth nipped at the skin on the heel of her palm, and he opened his eyes and looked down into hers to watch her reaction.
    She was stunned by the sensation the rough caress produced in her body. She knew that her eyes betrayed her by mirroring everything she felt, and she made a soft sound of protest deep in her throat.
    The rattle of a bottle brought them both back to reality. King abruptly dropped her hand, but he was breathing heavily, and Amelia gave silent thanks for Enid's presence when she came back into the room.
    Keenly aware of the atmosphere in the room, Enid quickly softened it by handing King the brandy snifter and asking about the crew in the bunkhouse. The question gave a shaken Amelia the opportunity to compose herself. But she couldn't help noticing that the big, lean hand holding the brandy snifter was faintly unsteady.
    King saw her eyes on it, and his own flashed dangerously.
    "Shouldn't you go back to bed, Miss Howard?" he asked icily.
    Amelia shivered under the whip of his voice. "Yes, I believe so. Good night."
    She beat a hasty retreat into her room and closed the door behind her. She wasn't surprised to find herself shaking.
    "You are very unpleasant to her," Enid remarked quietly.
    King finished his brandy and set the glass down with slow deliberation. "She has no nerve."
    "Perhaps there is a reason."
    "Even if that were the case, she is not my concern. I have no wish to saddle myself with a pretty little piece of fluff with no backbone."
    With that curt remark, he went back to his own room.
    Amelia, unfortunately, had heard every word. She bit back tears of pure rage as she made her way in the darkness to her bed. The dreadful man, she thought furiously. He knew nothing about her, nothing at all! He simply took her at face value and believed her worthless. She wasn't spineless! She wasn't a piece of fluff, either!
    She wondered what King would say if he knew the real reason she gave in to her father so easily.
    She remembered the night she'd run from her father. He had been drinking until he was almost senseless. Amelia had made some gentle remark about taking the liquor bottle. He had whipped off his belt and started bringing it down on her arms and back. She had escaped from the house. But the elderly policeman at the nearby station had laughed at her when she sobbed out her complaint, adding that it did a woman good to have the meanness beaten out of her from time to time. And he'd sent for her father. That had been the worst night of her life. Hartwell, having been drinking heavily again, had taken her home and put more welts on her lovely white skin for the embarrassment she'd caused him.
    She had spent several days in bed, and a friend's daughter had come to look after the housework and cooking. Quinn, by that time, was fighting in Cuba, and there was only Amelia and her father in the small clapboard house on Peachtree Street. No one knew what had happened. She had no hope of rescue.
    That was still the case. Quinn, even if she dared tell him the true scope of