Read Online Forbidden Fire by Heather Graham - Free Book Online

daughters married, I am still afraid that I might have a few requirements of my new paragon of virtue.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œWell,” he drawled softly, his blue gaze sweeping over her with a lazy regard, “I would like her to be just that—a paragon of virtue.”
    Marissa gasped, infuriated. “Just as you are a paragon of virtue, Mr. Tremayne.”
    â€œSorry. I am afraid that it is still required much more of the female in this day and age.”
    She swirled around, heading for the door. He watched her without protest. Her fingers closed over the knob.
    She turned, quivering with anger, but very aware that she was the one playing for the high stakes—he really did not want a wife.
    â€œWhat do you want out of me?” she demanded.
    â€œThe truth.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou’re asking me to marry you,” he said harshly. “I want to know something about my future wife.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œWhat of your young lover? I’ll have no man trailing after you to my home. And I’ll be damned if I’ll ever give any woman my good name for her to make a cuckold of me by playing at any game with another.” She realized then that he was amused, but he was also angry. Very angry. The open shirt displayed the pulse against his throat, and muscles bulged on his naked chest as his arms almost imperceptibly tightened over one another.
    She leaned against the door and moistened her lips. Her eyes met his.
    â€œI have never had a lover, Mr. Tremayne,” she said flatly.
    â€œYou admitted it when I spoke of your father’s fears,” he reminded her.
    â€œNo.” Her eyes fell from his, and she shook her head. “I admitted that I knew a man, but …” She forced her eyes to meet his. To offer the honesty that was still a lie. “He was never my—lover.”
    He rose from the desk and walked to the door. She was tempted to throw it open and run.
    She held her ground. His arms came around her as bars on either side of her head, his hands flat against the panels of the door. “I wonder if you are telling the truth. I wonder if you are capable of telling the truth.”
    â€œWhat difference would it make?” she cried out passionately. “I want no real marriage. We could put it in writing, we could—”
    â€œNo!” He seemed to thunder out the word, sharp and savage. “You are not listening, my lady. I’ll not have my name abused. And I’ll have no contract for pretense written down upon paper. And neither will I make any damned agreements about what a marriage will or will not be. One a hostess, the other the provider of an income.”
    â€œIt is my own income!”
    â€œNot without me.”
    Oh, please! she thought. She could not face him much longer without screaming. His sudden change from laughter to passion and anger was unnerving. She could not bear it.
    â€œI have told you the truth, I swear it!” she cried suddenly. “There is no man, there has never been a man. I plan to play no games, I just wish to live with a certain dignity—”
    â€œAnd what, pray tell,” he demanded savagely, “if you should discover yourself falling in love again elsewhere?”
    â€œI will not fall in love elsewhere.”
    â€œAh, how assured you are for one so young!”
    â€œWell, you are certain you’ve no wish to marry again, and you are not yet decrepit!”
    â€œAh, but I have known love, my lady, and there’s the difference,” he said, his tone suddenly, deceptively soft.
    â€œPlease—”
    â€œWhat are these charities of yours?”
    â€œThey are personal.”
    â€œPerhaps a young man is included in them?”
    â€œNo!”
    He pushed away from the door, turned and paced across the room. A moment later he pulled out the chair at his desk and sank into it. “How strange. I don’t see you being such an