Free A Perfect Storm by Cameron Dane Page B

she remained at Raven Island, was the knowledge that her presence was no accident. She just had yet to get even the tiniest answer as to why or how she fit.
    Of one thing Sophie had no doubt. Lucien lived in the highest, most important tower in this cloud-shrouded castle. He held all the power.
    That meant going straight to the man at the top for answers.

Chapter Five
    Long after Lucien had given everyone permission to call it a night, he continued to clean the exterior of his home. The sun had set hours ago, and only a few strategically placed soft lights lit the first of Ravenstoke’s two courtyards. If this castle had truly existed during the times of knights and feverish land wars, Lucien imagined these long and narrow courtyards could have served for something as dainty as a place for the women to gather for tea or as brutal as a training ground for the men. Closed in deliberately by the castle’s design, the grounds offered a great deal of protection against the elements. Today one of them remained a field of grass, and this one served as a place to gather and eat on warmer evenings. That by no means included tonight.
    No longer aware of the near-freezing temperatures, Lucien righted a teakwood bench, wiped it down, and wondered how much longer Miss Emerson intended to hold out before she gave up and either asked her questions or went inside. After dismissing the others, Lucien had told Sophie to go get some food and to turn in early for some much needed sleep. She’d earned it, he’d said, and he’d meant it. In the cold and damp of the day, Sophie had kept up with Lucien chop for chop and bag for bag in their cleanup. That sweet little body of hers, buried under all that clothing, had a hell of a lot of power and stamina.
    Fuck . Lucien winced at the sudden sharp, internal tug that brought his balls to life. He couldn’t help imagining all of Sophie’s strength wrapped around him and matching him thrust for thrust in an all-night fuck session that left them both depleted of electrolytes and unable to walk in the aftermath. And if she could build herself up a head of steam during sex like he could goddamn feel her doing right now, Lucien might have to reevaluate his assessment and say she would put him into a coma by the end.
    Jesus . Upon thinking that one word, a different kind of pain immediately rammed itself into Lucien’s gut and slammed him back to reality. Coma . Damn it. Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, and his chest banded tight enough to make his next breath painful and difficult to manage. There is always a job to do. You have not earned respite. You can never turn it off.
    No longer in the mood to let Sophie control how long she would dog his ass while she gathered her courage to speak her mind, Lucien spun and found the young woman wiping down the matching bench some dozen feet away. The second he made eye contact with her, she dropped her focus fully to her task.
    Growling, Lucien threw his towel across the courtyard and stalked Sophie until just the bench stood between them. Her sapphire gaze widened. She even reared back, but Lucien no longer gave a shit that he might be intimidating her.
    “I have fucking felt your judgmental stare drilling a hole into the back of my head all day, Miss Emerson,” he snapped through clenched teeth. “So unless you’re trying to psychokinetically perform a lobotomy on me, goddamn spit out whatever it is you’re clearly itching to say.”
    “Hey!” Sophie rounded the bench in a flash and shoved her wadded-up cloth at Lucien’s chest. “I have not judged you. I have not judged one single gosh-darn thing about you or your island or your castle or your employees, Mr. Cabot. Don’t project your labels onto me that you’re maybe secretly feeling yourself.”
    Lucien threw up his hands. “I feel no shame in what I do or how I live my life.”
    Fire lit the blue in Sophie’s eyes. “And what is it that you do, exactly?”
    The tingle of success warmed