Sweeter Than Sin Read Online Free Page A

without further comment turned to the trees.
    "Before you go, might I ask your help on one more word?" he asked quickly, loath for her to leave just yet.
    She looked around.
    " Lanza, " he said in Spanish. "A shape of leaf, I think." He added, sketching a rough outline in the air. "Like so."
    "Spear."
    "Just so." Rafael scribbled it down in his notebook. "Gracias, mea lady," he murmured, the languages becoming hopelessly entangled in his head.
    She hesitated, then ventured a question of her own. "Are you a botanist?"
    "No, I am a..." He surveyed the scattered scribblings. "I am a fool, to think I could take on such a project. It would take a magician to turn all of this into a coherent book."
    "A book on what?"
    "Chocolate."
    "Interesting." However, the arch of her brow added a touch of skepticism.
    "Actually, it is," he replied. "My grandmother was quite an expert on the history and lore of the cacao tree. She spent a good part of her life collecting all manner of fascinating stories and tidbits." Grabbing a paper at random, he smoothed out the creases. "Here let me read you an example of ancient Aztec legend..."
    "Intriguing," she admitted, when he had finished the short passage. "However, might I make a suggestion for rewording the last sentence? As it is, it sounds a bit awkward."
    He made a note of her corrections.
    "Do you pass by here often?"
    She shied back, a look of wariness clouding her gaze.
    "That is," he added quickly. "I thought perhaps you might consent to hear some other chapters and offer your criticisms."
    She shook her head.
    "Can I tempt you to change your mind? The book will also include a mouthwatering selection of her recipes." Rafael added a smile, hoping to soften her solemn expression. "Dona Maria's true genius came to light in the kitchen. In her hands, chocolate lived up to its name as 'Food of the Gods.' You have never tasted anything so sublime as her breakfast blend of the beans. Fragrant vanilla, peppery chilies and cane sugar from the island of Barbados."
    Her reaction was not at all what he expected.
    A splash of color darkened her cheeks and her lips puckered. "I—I don't care for hot chocolate."
    He could not quite believe his ears. A lady who didn't love chocolate? "What do you favor?"
    "A sip of black tea. Or nothing at all. I'm not very hungry in the morning."
    " Madonna ," Rafael let out a low whistle. "No wonder you are thin as a wraith. My grandmother often spoke of how cacao is considered a medicine by many physicians who use it to nourish the ill and the infirm—"
    She gasped and spun around.
    "Wait! I did not mean to imply—"
    Too late. Like a flicker of quicksilver she had already melted into the sun-dappled foliage.
    "Damn." Pursuit was pointless. He would only end up hopelessly lost in the wooded moors.
    He kicked at a pebble and watched it skitter across the terrace and fall into the water. In both Spanish and English, his linguistic skills seemed to be sunk beneath reproach. He had not only appeared a stuttering idiot, but a clumsy oaf to boot. After all, he had just put his foot in his mouth.
    Dona Maria's notes on chocolate suddenly took on a bittersweet taste. Deciding he had done enough work for the day, Rafael fell to stuffing the papers into his satchel. After a last look at the forest, he slung it over his shoulder and set off on the long walk home.
    * * *
    Kyra hurried along the leafy path, but her thoughts lingered on the mysterious stranger.
    A corsair. He reminded her of an engraving she had seen in a book on the Barbary pirates. Dangerous.
    A shiver ran down her spine. Unlike the polished perfection of Lord Matherton, the stranger's features were rugged, scuffed by sun and wind. His olive skin added to his raffish look. As did his black hair, which fell in devil-may-care curls that grazed his shoulders. Chas affected a tumble of curls, too. But somehow the effect appeared artfully arranged, as if he had spent hours in front of the mirror.
    And then there were