Miss Smith, your suspicions wound me,' he said with a smile. He drew her, stiff and unwilling, against his side. Immediately her warmth seeped into his veins. He’d known he’d missed her, but only now did he realize how much. 'I mean no harm.'
'You lie.'
'Often,' he agreed amiably, feeling the resistance leaching from her. 'Not this time.'
'I’m in no fit state to fight you,' she muttered, curving into him as if created to fit his body.
'I know,' he acknowledged ruefully, wondering why of all the women in the world, she was the only one who ignited any glimmer of chivalry in his soul. 'But it’s no fun when you just give in. I’ll wait until you’re up for another bout.'
She hid her face in his shoulder. She inhaled on a shudder, as if she hadn’t taken a full breath in days. 'You’re an evil devil, Ranelaw.'
'Absolutely,' he said softly, firming his hold as she shifted, not away as she should, but closer.
With brief amusement, she recalled how she'd assumed a rogue of his decadent reputation would be pale and weak from too many late nights, too much brandy, and too many women. If that regime resulted in this superb specimen, every doctor in the country should recommend it.
Anna CampbellHer jaw ached with tension. "Surely you don't respond to all women who...invite you this way?"
"Only strangers who remain anonymous and shrouded from my sight." The snap was still there, astonishing her. Anger was the last reaction she'd expected. "Do you intend to wear your veils when you fuck me, madam?
Tarquin Vale. The Earl of Ashcroft.
Plotocrat. Collector. Devotee of reformist politics.
Rake. Debauchee. Hellspawn.
Unwitting key to a future greater than she'd dreamed was possible.
He couldn't help approving that she hid herself from every scoundrel who wished to ogle her bosom.
He was the only scoundrel allowed to ogle Diana Carrick.
I want you to want me the way I want you. I want you to come to me and tell me that. Then I want you to show me it’s true.
- Duke Kylemore to Verity Ashton -
Tags: romance
And if you must sacrifice yourself, do that by marrying me. I’m not an easy man. You’ll earn your martyr’s crown before you’re done. Don’t condemn both of us to an eternity of unhappiness just because you’re too stiff-necked to face society’s censure.
Anna CampbellTags: romantic
You love me,” he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, “By God, you love me.” His astonished laugh ended on a choked note as he snatched her hand.
“So much,” she said huskily. Her fingers curled hard around his. “So very, very much.
Open your mouth, tesoro.” He angled her face higher. “Open your mouth for me.”
At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual.
Tags: jonas anna-campbell seven-nights sidonie
The tension drained from her face and she softened in his hold until she was again the fluid, responsive woman who had kissed him within an inch of his life. This time he knew better than to restrain her when she slipped from the bed. He bit back an appeal for her to stay with him. If his life depended on it, he couldn’t say whether he wanted her to stay an hour, a day, or forever.
Anna CampbellTags: jonas anna-campbell seven-nights sidonie
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