Read Online The Water's Kiss by Harper Alibeck - Free Book Online Page A

encounter with Evan, her skin still barely dry from the morning’s dip, her nerves still half-disheveled and her mind now a low hum, down from a loud roar.
    A lump in her throat made an audible click as she slumped to the floor, clutching the note. What was she doing? Who was she? This was not the Claire she had been her whole life, the perfect lady in training for her debut, for her seasons, for marriage and, some day, children. Instead she found herself an insatiable woman, sneaking off to do unnatural things and nearly fornicating in the gardens with Evan.
    If she were more pious, she would think a demon inhabited her.
    Perhaps it had. Letting the question settle a bit, she stared out the window. No rush; the next morning was fitfully far away. Surrender . The word floated through her thoughts and she felt her shoulders relax, her cheeks lower, her forehead unwrinkle, her tense body melt a bit. Mama often said that Claire tried too hard to make things go her way, and the world doesn’t work like that. She saw the wisdom in Mama’s words; surrendering was her last vestige of control, wasn’t it? Ironically, by giving in to that over which she was powerless she could have some control.
    And that was the answer, wasn’t it? Papa would choose. Claire would obey. Being queen was not her goal, but it was Papa’s now. Her job was to prevent herself from jeopardizing that goal.
    Content now, though not truly happy, she cleaned herself and dressed, going downstairs for a mid-day meal. Papa crossed her path on the way to dine.
    “Ah, Claire!” he said, smiling. “You look lovely today.” He surveyed her, studying her face. “So relaxed.”
    She smiled back. He turned to walk into his office, ready to answer correspondence and manage whatever it is a wealthy earl managed these days. She wondered why he seemed so occupied with business since the silver fortune, but she did not pry.
    A few bites of duck and some lovely bread filled her, everything tasting just right but her mouth unable to enjoy it, as if the food were just flavored tree bark. She left the rest of her meal and soon Claire found herself outside, wandering the gardens, her feet taking her to the waterfall. Privacy would not be guaranteed, she knew; she sought out the alcove not for any sensual purpose, but rather as a refuge.
    To her chagrin and elation (ah, how could she feel both at once?), there sat Evan, skipping stones so gracefully, as if the flat pieces of slate were an extension of his body, willed to skim the water’s surface like aqua bugs, his touch so light and perfect the rocks had no choice but to comply.
    Like her pulse beneath his caress.
    She cleared her throat and he jumped up, turned toward her, and closed the distance between them with a welcoming smile and open arms.
    “We are not supposed to meet until tomorrow!” he exclaimed, clearly pleased to see her again. Like coming home, she ran to him, her body eager for his touch, her lips soon pressed against his, their mutual warmth coursing through one another, passion soon burning all traces of doubt.
    “Evan,” she said simply, having no other words as he leaned in, bowing down and bending his knees a bit to reach her, slipping one hand about her waist, the other on her cheek and his lips, oh, his lips settled on hers, so impossibly soft, so tender, so searching. She gave in to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and waist, the tender press of his mouth yielding a more passionate insistence until she broke away with a groan.
    His hands knew what they wanted; her heart knew what she wanted to give. He exhaled, warm breath tickling her ear, his mouth kissing her neck, and they folded into each other, desperate to be on the ground, his body on hers, legs and hips and chests meeting and moving together, finding a rhythm for an act they had not yet agreed to commence.
    His hand flirted with the buttons on the back of her dress and with a precision she dared not ask about, he