Sexual Hunger. Melissa MacNeal

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      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      1

      London, 1899

      “I foresee sexual ecstasy and joy juxtaposed with excruciating pain,” Rubio whispered as he studied the tarot cards on the table. “Deception, yet revelation…a journey into the unknown. Loss of love and life as you now know it, dear sister.”

      As her younger brother tightened his hold on her hands, Maria Palladino turned away with a puzzled frown. “How can you predict such nonsense? Jason Darington’s the man of my dreams, and tomorrow when I marry him—”

      “Have I ever deceived you, Maria? Knowingly led you astray with my abilities?”

      Maria paused, unconvinced. “If you made such grim predictions for members of Queen Victoria’s court, you’d not remain London’s most celebrated medium for long!” She widened her eyes at Rubio. “Mama didn’t tell you to say that, did she? While we loved her dearly, she never drew a happy breath her whole life. I refuse to believe in gloom and doom, the way she did!”

      Her brother shook his head poignantly. “I received her gift of second sight, yes, but not her eternal sense of darkness or damnation.” His shoulder-length hair fell in artful disarray around his striking face, framing the relentless brown eyes that had captured many a lady’s fancy at his séance table. The reds and purples in his flowing paisley shirt seemed to glow with his rising agitation. “While I agree that the future Lord Darington is indeed the perfect match for you, I sense trouble…a separation that will tear at your sweet, loving soul. Disparaging remarks and damage to your reputation, through no fault of your own.”

      “And what do you mean by that?” she demanded. “I see nothing of the sort in these cards! I have better things to do than—”

      “I only reveal what my guides tell me, and for your benefit, Maria. Forewarned is forearmed, you know.” His eyebrows rose expressively as another idea occurred to him. “And what happens with Jude when you become his brother’s wife? You can’t turn the poor man’s affections off as though he had a spigot.”

      Maria’s cheeks prickled with heat. “And why is that your business, little brother?”

      “Because no matter whom you marry, you will always be my sister. I will always watch out for you, even though—”

      “I hate it when you use your powers to spy on me!” She rose from her chair and swept her brother’s tarot spread from the table. The rest of his well-worn deck scattered on the floor, save one card that fluttered to the toe of her kid slipper.

      Rubio’s dark brows peaked. “The Tower. Harbinger of sudden surprises. Bolts out of the blue.” He stood beside her, entreating her with his troubled gaze. “I meant no harm, Maria, and you know it! I shall escort you home, in case—”

      “You’ll do no such thing!”

      “—evil lurks between my door and yours.”

      Maria grabbed his head between her hands, gazing pointedly into his hot-coffee eyes. “The only evil here lurks in your imagination, Rubio! Your dire predictions will not spoil my wedding tomorrow!” She left his studio with a swish of her skirts, driven by a sudden urge to be on her way—away from the brother whose pronouncements often struck too close to the truth.

      And that’s what bothers you, isn’t it?

      As Maria stepped from Rubio’s dim reception parlor into the light of the early summer day, she regretted her brusque tone, the way she’d mocked his efforts to protect her. Damn it all, he was too often accurate in what he foresaw, and on this day before her glorious wedding she wanted nothing to come between her and the happiness she’d awaited so long. She was nearly thirty. It was high time she walked down the aisle. And Rubio’s talk of excruciating pain—loss of love, and deception—well, she could not allow such predictions to block her path to happiness!

      As she approached the post office, Maria glanced about at the passersby. She entered the building with a secretive smile and walked to the back of the stuffy lobby area, toward the larger commercial boxes along the wall. Seeing no one, she stood in front of number 111 and then twisted the knob to the right…the left…the right. Without stopping to read the addresses, Maria slipped the week’s letters into pockets secreted in the side seams of her belled skirt. Moments later she strode down the sidewalk again, her mission nearly accomplished.

      And how will you keep your sideline a secret, once you become Mrs. Darington? What if those blasted servants snoop in your trunks and armoire drawers before you can dispose of—

      “Miss Palladino! How fortunate that I happened by!”

      Maria nearly ran into the slender fellow who had stepped