The Cursed Portrait: A Regency Paranormal Romance by Ellie St. Clair

Author:Ellie St. Clair [Clair, Ellie St.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Prairie Lily Press
Published: 2024-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

Amelia’s heart started pounding at his touch, her skin tingling where his hand cupped her.

“I actually believe we might have a chance at breaking this… you know,” he said.

“You can have a future,” she said, spreading her fingers over his chest. “You are worth having a future.”

“For right now,” he said, his index fingers trailing a line over the bones above her eyes, “why do we not just focus on tonight? On the time we have together?”

“That is just fine with me,” she said, biting her lip as she took his hands and interlaced their fingers together. “Shall we go inside?”

“Did I practice my magic enough?” he asked, arching a brow, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her full smile from blooming.

“I can think of other ways to practice,” she said suggestively, and he chuckled as he followed in behind her.

They kept their hands intertwined as they walked up the wide staircase until they reached the corridor above. When they began to walk toward Amelia’s room, Max tugged on her hand.

“My room is much bigger,” he said as he led her down the hall and then pushed open the large oak doors.

Amelia’s breath caught when she walked through. While it was obvious that very little in the room had been replaced in years, it must have been absolutely majestic at one point.

Everything was black with gold trim. The bed canopy and covering appeared to be shiny black silk, while all of the paintings and furniture were trimmed in gold, even if some of it was beginning to fleck off.

“Your great-grandfather styled this room, didn’t he?” she said, and Max turned to her in surprise.

“How did you know?”

“I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “Just a feeling. And it seems like it would suit such a man.”

“I’ve never felt particularly comfortable here, but I also haven’t had any resources to change anything,” he said, looking around him, unaffected.

“Maybe it would be a good idea to try,” she said. “I doubt Isolde has any wish to have reminders of your great-grandfather in the house, and if you are not particularly fond of the décor, then why not change some of it with furnishings from elsewhere?”

“I could try that.”

“I could paint something on the walls for you if you’d like,” she said. “I promise that you would have the best sleeps.”

“I can think of another way to help my sleeping,” he said, reaching out and drawing her close. Amelia’s breath caught as she nearly trembled before him at all of the promises that the throatiness of his voice held within.

“That helps you fall asleep?” She tilted her head to the side as she studied him. “It usually only wakes me up for the night.”

“Usually?” His eyebrows rose, and Amelia, who hardly ever felt any shame, felt warmth rushing up her cheeks. He must have sensed it, for he shook his head and leaned in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Nothing to be ashamed about.”

“It was only a handful of times,” she said.

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