Three Rich Men: House of Midnight Fantasies / Forced to the Altar / The Millionaire's Pregnant Mistress. Michelle Celmer
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at him again. “It’s hot outside. And my feet are sufficiently protected.”
“It’s rough terrain. Plenty of briars and poison ivy along the way to attack your bare legs.”
Obviously she wasn’t cut out for this outdoor stuff. “I’ll go change into something more appropriate.”
“We don’t have much daylight left.” He opened the door and held back the screen. “You’ll have to manage. I’ll help you.”
Selene brushed past Adrien and he remained behind her as they descended the three steps. Once they reached the overgrown yard, he moved to her side as they walked the well-marked path leading to the swamp. The clearing soon gave way to thick underbrush and twisted trees that hovered overhead, filtering out some of the sun, but not the heat. Because of the recent intermittent rain, the atmosphere was almost unbearable, at least for Selene. Adrien didn’t seem to be at all affected by the high humidity and the stifling steam that rose from the soggy ground. He remained silent, staring straight ahead as if deep in thought.
Selene watched her feet, careful not to come too close to anything that looked poisonous or pointy. When the scrub grew thicker, that proved to be a challenge, and that challenge led to a few scratches around her ankles while she fended off several mosquitoes attacking her limbs. But she refused to complain about the bugs and the briars. Refused to come off sounding like some kind of spoiled ninny who didn’t have the fortitude to take on the elements. She could deal with a few bites and scrapes for the sake of seeing a part of the past. She couldn’t avoid the thornbush that seemed to reach out and grab her leg, leaving a nice long welt down her calf, prompting her to hiss out a breath between her gritted teeth.
Without warning, Adrien swept Selene up in his arms before she realized he’d moved. A sharp gasp left her parted lips and she clung to his neck, immediately noticing the breadth of his shoulders and the dampness beneath the soft curls at his nape.
“This really isn’t necessary,” she said. “I was managing okay by myself.”
“You were getting cut to shreds. Now shut up and enjoy the ride.”
Shut up? He’d actually told her to shut up? If he didn’t look like a veritable god, she might have slugged him. A glint of gold where her forearm met his neck caught her attention. Taking a chance, she kept one arm draped around his neck and used her free hand to pull the chain out from beneath his shirt to study the medallion. “What’s this?”
He kept his gaze centered on the trail. “It’s a Chinese talisman. The symbol of the snake.”
She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “No doubt, it has some sort of phallic significance.”
He sent her a brief glance. “Actually, it symbolizes intuition and perception. And strengthens willpower.”
Selene decided she could use a bit of willpower now, especially when he leveled his gaze on her. Only then did she notice his eyes seemed to darken in the daylight, taking on a more cobalt hue. When he turned his profile to her, she also noticed the near perfection of his face, the golden cast of his skin and the temptation of his mouth. She had the strongest urge to reach out and touch his lips, to see if they were as soft as she remembered. Only she didn’t care to use her fingertips. She wanted to use her own lips.
“We’re here,” he announced before she gave into temptation.
Selene tore her gaze away from Adrien’s face to see the small log cabin set out in the clearing before them. When they reached the front door, he deposited her back on her feet and released his hold on her—just when she was beginning to enjoy the ride.
He opened the door to a small one-room hut that was dingy and dark even though it was still afternoon. After breezing past her, he opened the heavy shutters on one window, allowing the daylight to stream in. Selene followed his lead, going for another window on the opposite side of the room. As poor luck would have it, the stubborn shutter took a moment to cooperate, and in the process, gifted her with a nice long splinter in her thumb.
“Damn.” The oath spewed out of her mouth before she had the foresight to stop it. She turned to see Adrien smiling at her—a very amused smile. “What?” she asked as she examined her throbbing thumb.
“I didn’t know Southern belles knew those kind of words.”
“Actually, I have a book of cuss words. I like to practice now and then.”
His grin expanded, taking the sting out of her wound. “Good to know I don’t have to watch my language around you. Now let me see that.”
She shook her hand as if that might dislodge the splinter. “It’s not that bad. I’ll get it out when we go back to the house.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He crossed the room and caught her hand, turning her palm up to inspect her thumb. He then reached into his back pocket, pulled out a knife and flipped it open with a twist of his wrist.
It took all Selene’s power not to jump out of her cross trainers. “I’d really like to keep my thumb, Adrien.”
His gaze shot from her hand to her. “What did you say?”
“I said my thumb comes in handy, so I’d like to keep it.”
“Not that. You said my name.”
Funny, she hadn’t even thought about it. The word had flowed as naturally from her mouth as the curse a few moments before. And considering what they’d been through together two nights ago, they should probably be on a first-name basis. “Isn’t that amazing?”
He shook his head slightly before returning to tending to her injury. With little effort, he dislodged the splinter and slid the knife into his back pocket. “You’ll live,” he said, keeping his eyes leveled on her face and her hand still firmly in his grasp.
“I’m sure I will.” Even if her respiration wanted to fail her at the moment. “Can I have my hand back now?”
“Sure.”
When he released his grip, Selene distracted herself by studying the area. A lone wooden cot in the corner near the fireplace and a rickety chair by the far window were the only two pieces of furniture to be found. The floors, like the walls, were made of wood and looked as though they hadn’t seen foot traffic in decades.
“Not much here,” Selene said as she wandered around the room, surveying the cobweb-covered ceiling. “Do you really think this is the place where our unidentified lovers rendezvoused?”
“What do you think?”
“I suppose it’s possible. It’s a sharecropper’s cabin by a swamp.” She strolled to the bed and lifted the flattened feather mattress, hoping to find another journal, but no such luck. “Nothing here.”
“No discarded chemise or drawers?”
Selene looked up to find him smiling again. She definitely liked his smile. She liked everything about him at the moment. “No. And no journal either. The mystery continues.” She straightened and sighed. “I’ll just have to search harder. Maybe go into town and see if anyone knows the story.”
He leaned his back against the far wall. “You do that, but you might be disappointed with what you learn.”
“True. Maybe it’s best I don’t know. Then I can go on believing they had this grand, passionate affair. Sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality anyway.”
“Not always. When two people have enough heat between them, the reality is always better.”
Selene was definitely heating up, both from the musty, unventilated cabin and that unmistakable take-me look in Adrien’s eyes. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
Needing some air, she strode to one window and stared out over the marshy terrain. Changing the subject seemed wise. As it was, she’d already said too much. “I think I see some kind of pond in the distance. You know, if this acreage was cleared