Read Online Chosen by Desire by Kate Perry - Free Book Online

himself.
    It made Rhys’s betrayal that much more cutting.
    After a brief stop to deposit his sword and shirt in his room, he went next door to hers and pushed open the door.
    As he stepped in, he was assailed by the scent of strawberries. He looked at the bed and inhaled deeper, trying to catch a hint of the sex redolent in the room last night.
    Get a grip.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and let his senses search the room to guide him to the Book of Water again.
    Nothing.
    He frowned. He didn’t feel it in the room. Did she take it with her?
    Possible. He continued his search, looking for any information. He started with the bed, in and under it, not allowing himself to wonder whether she slept clothed or if the sheets touched her naked body.
    Searching the dresser yielded nothing, as well, unless the knowledge that she haphazardly tossed her clothes in there counted for something. He opened the top drawer of the dresser last.
    A sea of black lace.
    Max froze. His fingers brushed a pair of panties almost of their own accord. Her pale skin would look creamy in black.
    “Stop,” he ordered himself ruthlessly. He slammed the drawer shut and did a cursory search of the bathroom, knowing it wouldn’t yield anything.
    And it didn’t. Worse, by the end of his fruitless search, he had a raging erection that ached for attention.
    Entering his own suite next door, he slammed the door shut and headed straight for the shower. Half an hour in the icy cold should do it. Maybe.

Chapter Ten

    B ased on her encounter with Max (she just couldn’t bring herself to refer to him as Mr. Prescott) on the beach, Carrie decided it’d be prudent to go to work, even if it was a little early.
    After retrieving her bag from her room, she went in search of the library. It took her a couple tries before she found it. And, really, mostly it was her curiosity that caused her to wander a bit. Curiosity about the Western man who was at home both in a monastery and twirling a sword, had a killer Chinese collection, and was called the White Tiger.
    Though the White Tiger part totally made sense. He prowled. And watching him twirl his sword this morning she knew it wasn’t faked.
    The library had austere furnishings like the rest of the house. Every room she’d been in was sparsely decorated with modern furniture in cold tones, framed by lots of metal. Even the gold in her room was cool rather than warm. The high ceilings and expansive windows lent to the cavernous feel.
    She plopped down on a low chair, setting her messenger bag at her feet, and looked out the window to the spot in the sand where Max had been practicing with his sword.
    He didn’t look like a cold, unapproachable billionaire as he’d battled his invisible foe. He’d looked fierce, intense, and so amazingly virile. As he’d swung the sword in an arc around his head, his shoulders and pecs had rippled, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin had highlighted each ropey bit.
    His arms had looked elegant despite being so thick. Carrie sighed, then blushed as she remembered the golden line of hair leading down into the waistband of his loose workout pants.
    The brown monk’s robe hadn’t done his body any justice. Neither had her dreams, though she’d pictured that golden trail pretty accurately. She didn’t have to try very hard to imagine kissing down that trail. He’d be taut there, his hair would be soft, and she didn’t doubt he’d be pretty impressive just below, just like he’d been in her dreams. She’d started to look, but his surliness distracted her.
    Not that she could blame him for being surly. She’d breached his inner sanctum. She had the feeling she’d seen something very, very few people had ever seen.
    And—God—she’d
touched
him. What the heck was she thinking? On her first morning here.
    Her phone ringing startled her. She answered, still distracted by thoughts of him. “Hello?”
    Silence hissed over the line.
    “Hello?” When there