Read Online House of Storms by Violet Winspear - Free Book Online

to the typewriter, feeling today less of a stranger in the house which long ago the piratical Don Rodare had built for the bride snatched from the sands and carried on board his ship with his other booty.
    It was no wonder, she told herself, the Salvador men were unconventional in their ways. Debra glanced across at the silver tray on which stood the crystal wine glass and she felt the strangest of feelings go tingling through her veins.
    Was it possible ... oh no, her reason for wanting to stay at Abbeywitch couldn't be related to that proud personage who chose to spend most of his time in the deep warm heart of Spain! The very idea alarmed her and her fingers were as if petrified upon the typewriter keys.
    It wasn't only that she had never met his like before, it was that she distrusted the emotions which gave rise to physical attraction. That distrust had taken root in her when she was at a very impressionable age, and though she could be detached about it all in a book, she didn't know that she could face the reality of it . . . least of all in relation to Rodare Salvador.
    She typed rapidly and her heart almost kept pace with her flying fingers. She wanted the thought of him to go away, but it was as if his every feature had become a fixture in her mind. Dark, aloof, fascinating... it was as if the wine he sent to her had contained a potion that cast a spell over her.
    She firmly told herself that when she was through with her work she would take a brisk walk along the headland and let the wind blow these schoolgirl notions out of her head.
    Getting ideas just because he behaved with Spanish courtesy and sent her a glass of wine to refresh her! She smartly tapped the key with the exclamation mark upon it.

Chapter Four
    EVENING had fallen and as Debra crossed the court to the side entrance a light rain was coming down. The combination of moisture and lights sheened her hair as she stepped into the great hall. She shook the moisture from her wind-blown hair and her eyes were still alight from the fantastic sunset which she had watched from the brim of the high cliffs.
    'Buenas tardes, señorita .’
    She swung round with a catch of her breath, expecting to see the tall figure who had been in her thoughts as she walked in the wind and rain. But it was Stuart Coltan who stood running his gaze over her slim figure which was warmly encased in a fluffy jersey and hip-hugging pants. 'That set your nerves jumping, didn't it?' he jeered. 'You thought I was El Rodare.'
    'Oh, it's you,' she said in a cool tone of voice, and she proceeded across the hall to the staircase.
    'Whoa there!' Stuart leapt forward and caught her by the arm. 'You don't have to be in such a hurry.'
    'Do you mind letting go of me?' She  attempted to shake off his hand.
    'I rather like the feel of you,' he rejoined. 'What do you call that fluffy stuff?'
    'Angora wool.'
    'Feels real nice.' He stroked her and she very quickly slapped his hand.
    'Look, Mr Coltan, I thought I'd made it plain that I don't play your kind of games.'
    'Maybe you did, honey, but that was in working hours and now it's time to relax. I thought I made it plain that I like you—you're a girl with class, aren't you?'
    'I'm a girl who happens to be particular,' she said frostily. 'I don't wish to lose my job by being caught with you. We both know that Zandra Salvador wouldn't like it.'
    'Why should it concern Doña Zandra if I want to talk to you?' There was a wicked glint in his blue eyes as he spoke. 'She's at least ten years older than me.'
    'I feel that wouldn't stop you, Mr Coltan, not if you found a woman attractive.'
    'I certainly find you attractive, with that chestnut hair undone by the wind.' His hand tightened on her waist and he pulled her against him before she could resist. 'There's to be a party to welcome home the master of the manor and I'd like to share the evening with you. Come on, live a little or you'll turn into an old maid.'
    'What a terrible fate,' Debra