Free Improperly Wed by Anna DePalo

you’ll receive…and what we can create together. What we have created together, remember?”
    She sucked in a breath. “It was Vegas. It makes you do crazy things.”
    â€œWe’re back here, breathing the same air. And it’s our anniversary.”
    Dear Lord. “Our families are enemies. It was forbidden sex, nothing more.”
    â€œWe’re married. I’m legally yours and you’re legally mine.”
    â€œOnly because you haven’t fought fair.”
    â€œYou said that you wanted a man who played for keeps, because you’d been burned before. Yet you threw me back the next morning.”
    â€œSo what is it you want now, revenge sex?”
    He smiled enigmatically. “Is that going to be your excuse if it’s just as explosive?”
    She started to turn her head to the side, but his mouth came down on hers before her denial was complete.
    Three years. Three years she’d lived with the memoryof what it was like to kiss and be possessed by Colin Granville, Marquess of Easterbridge.
    In one moment, however, the memory was washed away by an even more vivid reality.
    If Colin had been demanding, she might have had a better chance of resisting him. But he kissed her languidly, as if he was enjoying a sweet drink and had all the time in the world.
    He tasted minty and warm. He slid his tongue into her mouth and coaxed her into deepening the kiss.
    Belinda felt every sensation as if she was doing tequila shots without the lime. It was heady, and there was no respite.
    Colin slid his hand to her rear end, bringing her flush up against his undeniable arousal, and his other hand slid around her back, molding her to him.
    Belinda could feel everything through the thin fabric of her matte jersey dress. She became aware of her nipples jutting and pressing into the unyielding wall of his chest.
    She’d been hoping her memories were exaggerated, but Colin lived up to billing and more.
    Being in his arms was an intoxicating mix of the dangerous—as if she was walking on a precipice and he was tempting her into unknown and risky territory—and the comforting. He was solid and capable and made her feel oddly free, as if with him, at least, she could finally and truly be herself.
    Strange. She shouldn’t feel as if he was someone to whom she might shift her burden. He was a Granville, she reminded herself, and she still wasn’t sure what game he was playing. And it didn’t help that she’d just confirmed she had a visceral sexual reaction to him.
    She stilled and then pulled away.
    Colin let her go reluctantly.
    They stared at each other, both breathing deeply.
    Colin’s eyes glittered, but then he gained mastery of himself and banked the fires.
    Belinda could only imagine what she looked like. Her lips tingled from his kiss, and she fought a sudden unsettling urge to slip back into his arms for more.
    She started to raise her hand to her lips, belatedly realized Colin caught the movement and then abruptly stopped herself.
    She bent and grabbed her purse, then turned on her heel and hurried to the door.
    She didn’t care that she was fleeing—and he was letting her.
    He spoke behind her. “The paintings—”
    â€œThe price is too high.”

Five
    B elinda glanced around the elegantly appointed Mayfair town house. Her visit was like her last…with one important difference.
    The town house no longer belonged to the Wentworths, as it had for generations, but was merely on loan. Despite the illusion of permanence afforded by the decor of family antiques, everything was ephemeral.
    Her uncle continued to reside here at the Marquess of Easterbridge’s pleasure. Uncle Hugh could have the heirloom Persian rug pulled out from under him at any moment.
    â€œTell me it isn’t true.”
    She said the words without preamble after appearing unannounced in the library. She knew this conversation was too important to have over