Read Online Hallow House - Part Two by Jane Toombs - Free Book Online
Authors: Jane Toombs
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for herself alone."
"I don't care about money," she cried. "Only you. I love you, Mark." She flung herself into his arms.
His kiss, hard and demanding, thrilled through her.
When she felt his hand under her robe, caressing her bare skin, she melted inside, clinging to him, strange and exciting sensations filling her with need. She moaned when he put her away from him.
"We must not lose our heads," he said hoarsely. "Difficult as you make that for me. We must go slowly to work our way through the opposition."
She sighed as she tightened the belt of her robe once again, "But I want you to kiss me some more."
He shook his head. "It is best if I seem to accede to your uncle's wishes. I tried to begin convincing him at dinner when I looked everywhere but at you. That poor little maid, I embarrassed her with my ogling."
Samara laughed with relief. "You convinced me, at least. Rosita is very pretty."
Mark waved his hand. "A common type. A mere servant cannot be compared to a princess."
His words made her feel both flattered and slightly uneasy.
"Now, perhaps," he said, "it would be wise for you to go to your room. We do not want anyone to suspect we are together."
She, sighed, aware he was right. Obediently, she started for the door, pausing when he said, "I will be gone over the weekend."
"Oh, must you?"
"I have gone away every weekend before you came home and I do not think it wise to change the pattern. Wait for me Sunday up here in your tower, my princess."
As she descended the stairs to her room, Samara thought she'd never been so happy in her whole life. Mark loved her! What more could she ask for?
On Saturday morning, Samara lay in bed late, awake but half-dreaming of what would happen Sunday evening, when someone knocked on her door. Expecting it to be Vera, concerned about how she felt, Samara called, "Come in."
Marie entered instead. She closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of the bed. Her hair was down, caught back with a ribbon, her face without makeup. She looked her age.
"Samara, I owe you an apology. I don't often make them, so pay attention to this one. We may never be friends, but I don't mean to have you hate me. About Mark--"
Samara sat up abruptly. "I don't intend to discuss him with you."
Marie waved an impatient hand. "Oh, don't be so--so young. Funny, I envy your youth and yet I wouldn't want to be so naive ever again. If you won't discuss Mark, you'll still have to listen to me."
"Why?"
"Because I made a mistake yesterday by the pool. I looked at you and thought Delores. She's Delores all over again and she's going to take another man away from me just like Delores took all the others.? Marie reached into a pocket of her robe, took out a gold case and selected a cigarette. "You didn't know your father knew me before he met Delores, did you?"
Samara shook her head.
"John might not have married me, but then he might have, who knows. He did like me. Then Delores saw him and poof!" Marie lit the cigarette with trembling fingers. "Later there was Vincent." She paused and eyed Samara as if to gauge how much she might know.
"I'd rather not discuss my mother's affairs, either," Samara said. "I know she had them, but I find the subject distasteful."
Marie went on as though she hadn't heard. "Delores took Vincent as a lover only because she saw I wanted him. Then, of course, she told him why. He never got over that. Delores could be cruel. I saw her tease your poor brother until--"
Samara made a sound of protest.
"You're right--best to leave Sergei out of this. Anyway, last night I finally realized that you aren't and never will be Delores. You may be as pretty as she was, but you haven't her nature. At the moment you're a young girl with no defense at all against a man like Mark. Distasteful as it may be to me as well as to you, I feel I must warn you about
"I don't care about money," she cried. "Only you. I love you, Mark." She flung herself into his arms.
His kiss, hard and demanding, thrilled through her.
When she felt his hand under her robe, caressing her bare skin, she melted inside, clinging to him, strange and exciting sensations filling her with need. She moaned when he put her away from him.
"We must not lose our heads," he said hoarsely. "Difficult as you make that for me. We must go slowly to work our way through the opposition."
She sighed as she tightened the belt of her robe once again, "But I want you to kiss me some more."
He shook his head. "It is best if I seem to accede to your uncle's wishes. I tried to begin convincing him at dinner when I looked everywhere but at you. That poor little maid, I embarrassed her with my ogling."
Samara laughed with relief. "You convinced me, at least. Rosita is very pretty."
Mark waved his hand. "A common type. A mere servant cannot be compared to a princess."
His words made her feel both flattered and slightly uneasy.
"Now, perhaps," he said, "it would be wise for you to go to your room. We do not want anyone to suspect we are together."
She, sighed, aware he was right. Obediently, she started for the door, pausing when he said, "I will be gone over the weekend."
"Oh, must you?"
"I have gone away every weekend before you came home and I do not think it wise to change the pattern. Wait for me Sunday up here in your tower, my princess."
As she descended the stairs to her room, Samara thought she'd never been so happy in her whole life. Mark loved her! What more could she ask for?
On Saturday morning, Samara lay in bed late, awake but half-dreaming of what would happen Sunday evening, when someone knocked on her door. Expecting it to be Vera, concerned about how she felt, Samara called, "Come in."
Marie entered instead. She closed the door behind her and perched on the edge of the bed. Her hair was down, caught back with a ribbon, her face without makeup. She looked her age.
"Samara, I owe you an apology. I don't often make them, so pay attention to this one. We may never be friends, but I don't mean to have you hate me. About Mark--"
Samara sat up abruptly. "I don't intend to discuss him with you."
Marie waved an impatient hand. "Oh, don't be so--so young. Funny, I envy your youth and yet I wouldn't want to be so naive ever again. If you won't discuss Mark, you'll still have to listen to me."
"Why?"
"Because I made a mistake yesterday by the pool. I looked at you and thought Delores. She's Delores all over again and she's going to take another man away from me just like Delores took all the others.? Marie reached into a pocket of her robe, took out a gold case and selected a cigarette. "You didn't know your father knew me before he met Delores, did you?"
Samara shook her head.
"John might not have married me, but then he might have, who knows. He did like me. Then Delores saw him and poof!" Marie lit the cigarette with trembling fingers. "Later there was Vincent." She paused and eyed Samara as if to gauge how much she might know.
"I'd rather not discuss my mother's affairs, either," Samara said. "I know she had them, but I find the subject distasteful."
Marie went on as though she hadn't heard. "Delores took Vincent as a lover only because she saw I wanted him. Then, of course, she told him why. He never got over that. Delores could be cruel. I saw her tease your poor brother until--"
Samara made a sound of protest.
"You're right--best to leave Sergei out of this. Anyway, last night I finally realized that you aren't and never will be Delores. You may be as pretty as she was, but you haven't her nature. At the moment you're a young girl with no defense at all against a man like Mark. Distasteful as it may be to me as well as to you, I feel I must warn you about
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