Read Online Hot Winds From Bombay by Becky Lee Weyrich - Free Book Online
Authors: Becky Lee Weyrich
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A moment later, he hoisted Europa up. Her face was blue and still.
“Give us a hand here,” he called through chattering teeth.
The hand he requested was there already. He caught it, not even realizing it belonged to Persia. Together they eased Europa up over the edge of the ice. Others were there to pick the unconscious woman up and to help Zack out of the water. Persia whisked off her cape and covered his shoulders. Already Europa was wrapped in a heavy carriage robe from the Whiddington sleigh.
In moments, Persia, Zack, and Europa were in the back of the sleigh, speeding up the trail toward the house on Gay Street. Persia chafed her sister’s icy wrists while Zack held the blanket securely around Europa’s trembling shoulders with a strong arm.
“Faster, Fletcher, faster!” Asa Whiddington urged.
“You saved me. How can I ever repay you?” Europa’s voice, although shaky, held an undercurrent unmistakably dripping with feminine allure.
“I just thank God you’re alive, Miss Europa,” Zack replied.
The horses roared to a halt outside the house. Scooping Europa up in his arms Zack made for the front door, leaving Persia to see herself out of the sleigh and into the house. She refused to acknowledge the little stab of jealousy his actions caused. After all, her sister was in serious condition. Europa must be everyone’s first concern.
But she couldn’t ignore the pain a half hour later when she entered the sitting room, bringing a tray of hot broth and tea. Europa, warmed to glowing health and swathed in a lush velvet robe of emerald green, looked fetchingly petite and vulnerable reclining on the chaise lounge. Because of an error in Mrs. Whiddington’s planning, the usual decorum of the carefully run household had broken down and Europa and Zack had been left alone momentarily. Persia walked in just in time to catch her sister taking advantage of the private interlude by bestowing a kiss of gratitude squarely on Zack’s mouth.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” Persia said, flustered and furious, sure that she was blushing all over.
Zack quickly pulled away but avoided meeting her eyes.
“Your sister’s much better,” he said.
“So I see.” Persia knew her voice sounded cold, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Persia dear,” Europa cooed, “how sweet of you to bring us tea. Poor Zack has had quite a night of it—first being monopolized by you all evening and then having to risk his life to save me. Why, the dear man is an exhausted saint!”
Persia’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Saint” was a far cry from what Europa had called Zack earlier.
“It was nothing, Europa. I only did what any other man would have done under the circumstances. I just happened to be the closest one to you when the accident occurred.”
Persia watched their eyes meet and felt her blood rising. She hated herself for suspecting that Europa’s plunge was no accident. But as her sister preened and simpered for the man, Persia realized that her suspicions were a devastating reality. Europa would go to any lengths to get what she wanted. And at the moment, it looked as if she wanted Zachariah Hazzard.
What did Europa have in mind? She had a dozen men dangling on her silken strings. Why was she flirting so with Persia’s beau, whom she had earlier labeled “unsuitable”?
Persia watched as Europa reached out a pale hand and placed it on Zack’s arm, at the same time lowering her long dark lashes to offer him a veiled and sensual look. “You know what my father says the Chinese believe?”
“What?” The word came out of Zack’s mouth in a husky whisper. His gaze was locked on Europa’s mesmerizing eyes.
“They say that when one person saves another’s life, the two are bound together for eternity.”
Persia had had all she could take. Slamming the tea tray down on the table, she rushed from the room. She tore for the attic stairs and the little ladder up to the widow’s walk, where she always
“Give us a hand here,” he called through chattering teeth.
The hand he requested was there already. He caught it, not even realizing it belonged to Persia. Together they eased Europa up over the edge of the ice. Others were there to pick the unconscious woman up and to help Zack out of the water. Persia whisked off her cape and covered his shoulders. Already Europa was wrapped in a heavy carriage robe from the Whiddington sleigh.
In moments, Persia, Zack, and Europa were in the back of the sleigh, speeding up the trail toward the house on Gay Street. Persia chafed her sister’s icy wrists while Zack held the blanket securely around Europa’s trembling shoulders with a strong arm.
“Faster, Fletcher, faster!” Asa Whiddington urged.
“You saved me. How can I ever repay you?” Europa’s voice, although shaky, held an undercurrent unmistakably dripping with feminine allure.
“I just thank God you’re alive, Miss Europa,” Zack replied.
The horses roared to a halt outside the house. Scooping Europa up in his arms Zack made for the front door, leaving Persia to see herself out of the sleigh and into the house. She refused to acknowledge the little stab of jealousy his actions caused. After all, her sister was in serious condition. Europa must be everyone’s first concern.
But she couldn’t ignore the pain a half hour later when she entered the sitting room, bringing a tray of hot broth and tea. Europa, warmed to glowing health and swathed in a lush velvet robe of emerald green, looked fetchingly petite and vulnerable reclining on the chaise lounge. Because of an error in Mrs. Whiddington’s planning, the usual decorum of the carefully run household had broken down and Europa and Zack had been left alone momentarily. Persia walked in just in time to catch her sister taking advantage of the private interlude by bestowing a kiss of gratitude squarely on Zack’s mouth.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” Persia said, flustered and furious, sure that she was blushing all over.
Zack quickly pulled away but avoided meeting her eyes.
“Your sister’s much better,” he said.
“So I see.” Persia knew her voice sounded cold, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Persia dear,” Europa cooed, “how sweet of you to bring us tea. Poor Zack has had quite a night of it—first being monopolized by you all evening and then having to risk his life to save me. Why, the dear man is an exhausted saint!”
Persia’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Saint” was a far cry from what Europa had called Zack earlier.
“It was nothing, Europa. I only did what any other man would have done under the circumstances. I just happened to be the closest one to you when the accident occurred.”
Persia watched their eyes meet and felt her blood rising. She hated herself for suspecting that Europa’s plunge was no accident. But as her sister preened and simpered for the man, Persia realized that her suspicions were a devastating reality. Europa would go to any lengths to get what she wanted. And at the moment, it looked as if she wanted Zachariah Hazzard.
What did Europa have in mind? She had a dozen men dangling on her silken strings. Why was she flirting so with Persia’s beau, whom she had earlier labeled “unsuitable”?
Persia watched as Europa reached out a pale hand and placed it on Zack’s arm, at the same time lowering her long dark lashes to offer him a veiled and sensual look. “You know what my father says the Chinese believe?”
“What?” The word came out of Zack’s mouth in a husky whisper. His gaze was locked on Europa’s mesmerizing eyes.
“They say that when one person saves another’s life, the two are bound together for eternity.”
Persia had had all she could take. Slamming the tea tray down on the table, she rushed from the room. She tore for the attic stairs and the little ladder up to the widow’s walk, where she always
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