Read Online Scandalous Desires by Elizabeth Hoyt - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Hoyt
Tags: FIC
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him?
She made the lower hall, skidded through the doors, and ran into a large male back, blocking her way.
“Oof!” she muttered, trying to dodge around Mickey O’Connor’s form. She just caught sight of Winter—standing very still in the middle of a pack of pirates—then Mr. O’Connor hauled her back against his chest and set his hands on her waist to hold her.
Silence inhaled sharply at his touch. The exotic scent of frankincense surrounded her. She hadn’t seen him since their argument the night before last over supper and already she seemed to have forgotten the intensity of his presence.
Winter’s mouth flattened. “Unhand my sister.”
“Eager as I am to bow to yer smallest command, Mr. Makepeace,” Mickey O’Connor drawled above her, his chest rumbling against her back, “I can’t in all good conscience do so when the lady herself hasn’t asked me.”
Winter looked at her. “Silence?”
She swallowed. Winter looked like thunder. He stood clad in his habitual somber clothes, his empty hands fisted by his side, a round, black hat on his head. Like all her brothers he preferred his dark brown hair undressed and tied back simply. The armed pirates circling him were almost comically more dangerous looking. Yet somehow he’d made it past the front door and this far into Mickey O’Connor’s well-guarded palace.
Perhaps it was a measure of Winter’s quiet authority that the pirates hadn’t stopped him.
Silence turned within the circle of Mr. O’Connor’s arms and looked up into his face. He was so close she could see each individual inky eyelash and notice the tiny wrinkles fanning from the corners of his deep brown eyes. “Let me talk to him.”
Those perceptive eyes narrowed at her—the pirate didn’t look at all happy.
“Please,” she whispered.
“As ye wish.” Mickey O’Connor spread wide his arms and looked over her head. “Five minutes, Mr. Makepeace. No longer. Ye can talk to yer lovely sister in me library.”
Mickey O’Connor has a library?
For a second, Silence was distracted by the thought of this outrageously virile man bent studiously over dusty books.
The image was dashed the moment they were shown into the library, however. Naturally Mr. O’Connor would have a library like no other she’d ever imagined. It was a middling-sized room, but from the carved rosewood ceiling overhead to the thick Persian carpet underfoot, the entire place was fantastic. Ancient statuary stood about the room, no doubt plundered from ships. Here there was a Diana in flight, her hunting hounds bounding beside her. There a bust of some ancient bearded dignitary. And the books! Every surface held open books, each one fabulously illustrated. From a folio of exotic animals to a tiny prayer book, delicately illuminated in gold.
“Goodness!” Silence breathed in awe, looking around the exquisite room. “Have you ever seen such a wonderful place, Winter?” She frowned. “Though it could do with some comfortable chairs.”
“At the moment I’m a bit more interested in you than in the room, sister,” Winter said drily.
Silence flushed and looked at her brother. His straight brown brows were drawn together in worry.
She inhaled and smoothed a hand down the apron she’d put on this morning out of habit—only now did she notice that it was a bit crooked. “I’m sorry to have left the home so abruptly. I know it must have distressed you—”
“Distressed.” Winter said the word flatly.
Silence bit her lip.
“Are you being held here against your will?”
“Oh, no,” she said.
He nodded. “I’m not a man given to hysteria. If I were, I’d be bald at this moment from having torn out my hair on the way over here. Mickey O’Connor, Silence?”
His last three words were soft, but there was a wealth of meaning behind them. Winter had seen her after she’d left Mr. O’Connor the last time. He knew what had been done to her.
And he suspected much
She made the lower hall, skidded through the doors, and ran into a large male back, blocking her way.
“Oof!” she muttered, trying to dodge around Mickey O’Connor’s form. She just caught sight of Winter—standing very still in the middle of a pack of pirates—then Mr. O’Connor hauled her back against his chest and set his hands on her waist to hold her.
Silence inhaled sharply at his touch. The exotic scent of frankincense surrounded her. She hadn’t seen him since their argument the night before last over supper and already she seemed to have forgotten the intensity of his presence.
Winter’s mouth flattened. “Unhand my sister.”
“Eager as I am to bow to yer smallest command, Mr. Makepeace,” Mickey O’Connor drawled above her, his chest rumbling against her back, “I can’t in all good conscience do so when the lady herself hasn’t asked me.”
Winter looked at her. “Silence?”
She swallowed. Winter looked like thunder. He stood clad in his habitual somber clothes, his empty hands fisted by his side, a round, black hat on his head. Like all her brothers he preferred his dark brown hair undressed and tied back simply. The armed pirates circling him were almost comically more dangerous looking. Yet somehow he’d made it past the front door and this far into Mickey O’Connor’s well-guarded palace.
Perhaps it was a measure of Winter’s quiet authority that the pirates hadn’t stopped him.
Silence turned within the circle of Mr. O’Connor’s arms and looked up into his face. He was so close she could see each individual inky eyelash and notice the tiny wrinkles fanning from the corners of his deep brown eyes. “Let me talk to him.”
Those perceptive eyes narrowed at her—the pirate didn’t look at all happy.
“Please,” she whispered.
“As ye wish.” Mickey O’Connor spread wide his arms and looked over her head. “Five minutes, Mr. Makepeace. No longer. Ye can talk to yer lovely sister in me library.”
Mickey O’Connor has a library?
For a second, Silence was distracted by the thought of this outrageously virile man bent studiously over dusty books.
The image was dashed the moment they were shown into the library, however. Naturally Mr. O’Connor would have a library like no other she’d ever imagined. It was a middling-sized room, but from the carved rosewood ceiling overhead to the thick Persian carpet underfoot, the entire place was fantastic. Ancient statuary stood about the room, no doubt plundered from ships. Here there was a Diana in flight, her hunting hounds bounding beside her. There a bust of some ancient bearded dignitary. And the books! Every surface held open books, each one fabulously illustrated. From a folio of exotic animals to a tiny prayer book, delicately illuminated in gold.
“Goodness!” Silence breathed in awe, looking around the exquisite room. “Have you ever seen such a wonderful place, Winter?” She frowned. “Though it could do with some comfortable chairs.”
“At the moment I’m a bit more interested in you than in the room, sister,” Winter said drily.
Silence flushed and looked at her brother. His straight brown brows were drawn together in worry.
She inhaled and smoothed a hand down the apron she’d put on this morning out of habit—only now did she notice that it was a bit crooked. “I’m sorry to have left the home so abruptly. I know it must have distressed you—”
“Distressed.” Winter said the word flatly.
Silence bit her lip.
“Are you being held here against your will?”
“Oh, no,” she said.
He nodded. “I’m not a man given to hysteria. If I were, I’d be bald at this moment from having torn out my hair on the way over here. Mickey O’Connor, Silence?”
His last three words were soft, but there was a wealth of meaning behind them. Winter had seen her after she’d left Mr. O’Connor the last time. He knew what had been done to her.
And he suspected much
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