Read Online Turbulent Sea by Christine Feehan - Free Book Online Page A

. Just Joley. And it was enough. She ran out into the glaring lights and it sounded like thunder.
    For a moment she stood there, her body absorbing the rhythms and sounds, the currents of energy coming at her. She waved and sent the crowd her famous smile, and they went wild.
    Immediately she launched into the first number, her voice low and sultry, slipping in and out of the swelling music as only she could do. The rhythm had the crowd on its feet; it was impossible for them to stay in their seats, clapping, swaying, some jumping up and down, others dancing, while her voice sank into them and turned them inside out with her music.
     
    ILYA Prakenskii looked down at his hand. It was trembling. He had fought for survival since he was a toddler. He could withstand pain and torture. He'd been shot, knifed, hit with bats, and he had remained rock steady. He had sewn his own flesh. He had killed—numerous times. Nothing shook his calm. That place inside him, that cool detachment was what kept him alive.
    He could even allow a woman to service his body, as he could hers, and still remain completely detached and in control. But he couldn't stop his hands from shaking or his body from reacting just looking at—or listening to—Joley Drake.
    Emotions could get a man like him killed, so he'd been very careful never to feel. It had been so long since anything touched him, he was shaken, realizing that his deep need of that one small woman wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She took his breath away. She stole all reason. He didn't get involved— ever —not emotionally—with anyone. People around him frequently ended up dead. Emotion was a weakness, something that could too easily be used against him. But Joley Drake…
    Ilya hit the back of his head against the wall as if he could jolt her out of his mind. But she was already wrapped inside him and he was never going to be free of her. He knew that now, knew that no matter how disciplined he'd always been, his control went out the window whenever he laid eyes on Joley. And discipline wasn't going to save either of them this time.
    He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she moved across the stage. Her voice swelled with power, vibrating through his body until he couldn't think with wanting her. He could have lived with that. The chemistry between them was so damn potent he ached every minute of every day, but there was so much more than sex. He belonged to Joley Drake. Body and soul. Men like him didn't ever belong to anyone—and no one belonged to them. Worse, she was slowly stealing his heart. He could take the craving for her body. He could even live without his soul, but if he allowed her access to his heart, he would be lost.
    His eyes narrowed to slits. His gaze shifted to take in the crush of people, noting automatically every small detail and storing it so his mind could process all the information even as his body absorbed Joley—everything about her—the curves of her body, her far too erotic rhythm as she moved with the pounding music. Every step, every sway, every note screamed sin and sex. She couldn't help the way she was put together or the way her voice seduced and the way her body shouted, "fuck me." But it still pissed him off—and kept him awake at night.
    He wished a good fuck was all he wanted, but that was the least of it. He wanted to make love to her. Hard and fast, slow and easy, memorizing every sweet curve and sinful valley. He wanted to know every intimate detail of her body and mind. He wanted to tie her to him any way he could. And he'd tried. First with his magic. Always with his magic. He used his voice shamelessly as a weapon because he knew that sound was the key to Joley. He understood, in ways she still barely perceived, that they were locked in a battle for life. And he wasn't about to lose.
    The roar of the crowd swelled, building until the noise was deafening. Bright lights flashed, and Joley moved across the stage, in and out of the