A smile flickered across Coral’s face. “Have you ever noticed that once you have had a taste of certain sweets—raspberry trifle is my own despair—it is quite impossible not to think, not to want, not to crave until you have taken another bite?”

“Lord Swartingham is not a raspberry trifle.”

“No, more of a dark chocolate mousse, I should think,” Coral murmured.

“And,” Anna continued as if she hadn’t heard the interruption, “I don’t need another bite, uh,night of him.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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He looked up. “Is it time already?” She nodded.

He rose and waited as she gathered her things. The dog followed them out the door, but then he bounded down the stairs to the drive. The animal sniffed intently at something on the ground and then rolled, happily rubbing his head and neck in whatever it was.

Lord Swartingham sighed. “I’ll have one of the stable boys wash him before he enters the Abbey again.”

“Mmm,” Anna murmured thoughtfully. “What do you think of ‘Adonis’?”

He gave her a look so full of incredulous horror that she was hard-pressed not to laugh. “No, I suppose not,” she murmured.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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Where are we going?” she asked.

“Mr. Durbin’s sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have told you about today’s outing earlier.”

Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.

He coughed. “I might’ve, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon.”

She arched a brow but did not reply.

There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog’s eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.

Then the earl tried again. “I’ve heard some people say my temper is rather . . .” He paused, apparently searching for a word.

Anna helped him. “Savage?”

He squinted at her.

“Ferocious?”

He frowned and opened his mouth.

She was quicker. “Barbaric?”

He cut her off before she could add to her list. “Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people.” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren.”

“You don’t.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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Excuse me, but I believe you have my lady,” one of them said in a quiet, deep voice that sent veritable chills down George’s spine.

Harry.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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He grinned, but a bead of sweat ran down his temple. “Then with your permission.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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Shhh,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just feel.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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You are different." She lifted a hand to delicately trace his hairline.
He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers tremble against his skin.
"For whatever reason," she said softly, "when you are with me, you are
simply Isaac and I am Coral.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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She caught his wrist, stilling the hand on her thigh. Her eyes were a
little desperate. "What do you mean to do?"
"I'd like to show you my way of making love," he said gently.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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She heard him close the door. “I was going to impress you with my romantic eloquence, of course. I’d thought to wax philosophical about the beauty of your brow.”
Lucy blinked. “My brow?”
“Mmm. Have I told you that your brow intimidates me?” She felt his warmth at her back as he moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s so smooth and white and broad, and ends with your straight, knowing eyebrows, like a statue of Athena pronouncing judgment. If the warrior goddess had a brow like yours, it is no wonder the ancients worshiped and feared her.”
“Blather,” she murmured.
“Blather, indeed. Blather is all I am, after all.”
She frowned and turned to contradict him, but he moved with her so that she couldn’t quite catch sight of his face.
“I am the duke of nonsense,” he whispered in her ear. “The king of farce, the emperor of emptiness.”
Did he really see himself so? “But—”
“Blathering is what I do best,” he said, still unseen. “I’d like to blather about your golden eyes and ruby lips.”
“Simon—”
“The perfect curve of your cheek,” he murmured close.
She gasped as his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He was distracting her with lovemaking. And it was working. “What a lot of talk.”
“I do talk too much. It’s a weakness you’ll have to bear in your husband.” His voice was next to her ear. “But I’d have to spend quite a bit of time outlining the shape of your mouth, its
softness and the warmth within.

-Simon to Lucy on their wedding night.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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I’m sorry.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry. At the same time, she was oddly touched by his apology.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Something tore quite explicitly, and she inhaled but didn’t make a sound.
He opened his eyes, looking stricken and hot and savage. “Oh, God, sweetheart. I promise it
will be better next time.” He kissed the corner of her mouth softly. “I promise.”
She concentrated on steadying her breath and hoped he would finish very soon. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but this was no longer pleasant for her.
He parted his mouth over hers and licked her bottom lip. “I’m sorry.

Elizabeth Hoyt

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