Free The Sins of Lord Easterbrook by Madeline Hunter

think Branca could stand against him when he browbeat her to learn what he needed? You sought me out alone again and again, and were careless with my reputation. There was evidence enough for his purpose, and with my father dead there was no one to defend my honor.”
    He caught her arm as she strode by, stopping her. She did not fight his hold, but she refused to look at him.
    “If you were held up to scorn, I apologize, Leona. If you wanted that marriage, I am sorry.” His fingers cupped her chin and turned her face to his own. “Did you want it?”
    Saints, but the man was impossible. “And if I say no, not really, does that mean your guilt is gone?”
    “First sin, now guilt. I do not think that way. Nor do you.”
    “You have no idea how I think. Now, please, the day has tired me and this conversation has me too vexed to be hospitable. Show some kindness and leave me to compose myself.”
    He did not release her at once. She sensed that invasive attention sliding around her, as if he sought to truly know her mind. She protected herself as she always had. His expression hardened in response, as though a wordless battle had just been fought to a draw. Finally he let her go and stepped away.
    Severe now, he strode to the door. He faced her again before he crossed the threshold.
    “I may not know your mind, but I know enough and I'll be damned if I will pretend that I do not. I know that you also sought
me
out. I know that desire binds us so powerfully it affects every word and every motion and even the air we breathe. I know that I'm glad that pompous ass did not get you. And I know that the only sin I committed with you in Macao was not taking you when I could have.”

CHAPTER
SIX

    S
ilence. Calm. His breaths matching a larger rhythm kJ in the darkness. No turmoil. No cravings. A state of suspended self trying to form and grow.…
    The center would not hold. Instead a memory intruded more vivid than was natural. Images moved in the darkness of his mind. Suddenly he was back in Macao on a perfect night.…
    Colors shimmering with silver moonlight. Scents of lotus from the nearby pond. Lamps glimmering in homes beyond the stucco wall. Silent noise finding him, mixing with the sounds of night.
    The garden's beauty and peace mocked him. The tranquility made the storm inside him all the less bearable. Hungers and doubts and resentments rumbled in his head. He lifted his face to the salty breeze, so it might cool the anger burning from an unknown source.
    He could not live like this. The anger would lead him to violence or madness. The storm would break someday and drench him with despair. He had come
too close already. He had found solace in the worst ways.…
    A sound. Not a silent one. A human noise of the normal kind. Footsteps and breathing and a low feminine hum.
    She was there suddenly, on the path in front of him. She saw him and stopped. Her white nightdress glowed beneath the dark swath of her long silk shawl. Her dark hair veiled her. Her skin appeared radiant in the moon's light.
    Desire ruled him at once, as it always did with her. Seeing her was all the spark needed to make his arousal flame wildly. She was innocent and erotic, shy and vivacious, girlish and worldly, all at the same time. He wanted her, constantly, and he did not dream of sweet, gentle love play either.
    This was not the night to face this temptation.
    “You should not be out here,” he said. “Branca will whip you if she learns of it.”
    “Branca is asleep, and I am too old to whip. I am not a child, Edmund.”
    No, she wasn't, despite her innocence and ignorance.
    “Why did you leave the house, Leona?”
    She shrugged. “I could not sleep. I was restless. The day bored me. I would walk on the quay, but it is too late.”
    She bent to smell a flower on a nearby bush. Her hair fell forward while she leaned and her eyes closed as she inhaled the fragrance.
    He had to go to her, of course. The storm had
retreated, as it always did in