Do you think I should be paying my addresses to Mrs. Martin, my dear Miss Fitzhugh?” he whispered. “Martin doesn’t
look the sort to have enough stamina to service two women.
And goodness knows you could probably exhaust Casanova himself.”
Again this insinuation that she must be a sufferer of nymphomania. Behind her fan, she put her lips very close to his ear. “You’ve no idea, my Lord Hastings, the heated yearnings
that singe me at night, when I cannot have a man. My skin burns to be touched, my lips kissed, and my entire body passionately fondled.”
Hastings was mute, for once. He stared at her with something halfway between amusement and arousal.
She snapped shut her fan and rapped his fingers as hard as she could, watching with great satisfaction as he choked back a
yelp of pain.
“By anyone but you,” she said, and turned on her heels.
Tags: sherry-thomas helena beguiling-the-beauty hastings
The explanation for her absence had been staring him in the face all the while, but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it: The affair meant nothing to her. He’d been the only one bewitched body and soul. For her, he’d been but a temporary source of entertainment, a way to pass the otherwise tedious hours in the middle of an ocean.
He’d been the one to press for a continuation of their affair beyond the voyage. He’d been the one to offer his heart, his hand, his every last secret. She never even gave her real name.
And, of course, never showed her face.
Tags: christian sherry-thomas beguiling-the-beauty
He was summertime itself, young, luminous, lit from within by rekindled hopes and reawakened dreams. And every beggar along his path—herself included—could expect redoubled generosity and kindness.
Sherry ThomasIt was the beginning of the end.
Or perhaps, it was only the end of something that was never meant to begin.
She felt as if she'd been hugging puppies all day.
Sherry ThomasRain came down in sheets. It had been a miserable spring. Already he despaired of ever again walking under an unclouded sky.
Sherry ThomasWas unhappiness really so invisible? Or did people simply prefer to turn away, as if from lepers?
Sherry ThomasPerhaps unrequited love was like a specter in the house, a presence that brushed at the edge of senses, a heat in the dark, a shadow under the sun.
Sherry ThomasEven now her body yearned to be closer to him. She wanted to press her nose into his skin and inhale hungrily—he always smelled as if he’d just taken a walk across a sunny meadow. She wanted to rub her palm against his jaw to feel the beginning of stubbles. She wanted to slide her hands underneath his shirt and learn every single shape and texture, with the fierce dedication she’d once put into mastering the Grandes Études.
Sherry ThomasBut tonight, after the carriages left, there would be Millie, her scent like a breeze from their lavender field at the height of summer, her skin as smooth as the finest velvet.
Their eyes met. She flushed. Desire tumbled through him.
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