And how closely related to you is Cousin Beatrice?”
Reynaud gave him a look. “Not that close.
“Glad to hear it.” Vale dropped into a cushioned chair. “I hope she recovers fully so that you can then propose to her. Because I tell you now, matrimony truly is a blessed state, enjoyed by all men of good sense and halfway adequate bedroom skills.”
“Thank you for that edifying thought,” Reynaud growled.
Vale waved his glass. “Think nothing of it. I say, you haven’t forgotten how to treat a lady in the bedroom, have you?”
“Oh, for God’s sake!”
“You’ve been out of refined society for years and years now. I could give you some pointers, should you need them.
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt vale reynaud to-desire-a-devil
Lazarus had never thought of himself as lovable. Therefore it should come as no shock at all that Temperance did not, in fact, love him. No, not a shock... but it would have been nice had she had some small feeling for him.
Lazarus pondered his own sickening craving as he guided his black gelding through the London morning throng the day after he'd walked out on Temperance. It appeared that his own nascent emotions had provoked a new desire as well: the urge to be loved. How banal. And yet, banal or not, he could not change the way his heart felt.
A corner of his mouth quirked up humorlessly. It seemed he must be like other men after all.
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt lazarussgextraordinaire wicked-intensions
You've used me to punish yourself, haven't you?"
He watched dawning realization spread over her face, a confirmation more positive than anything she could ever say, and that arrow twisted deep in his
chest. Yet still he had to ask the last question.
"Am I anything to you but a punishment?
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt lazarussgextraordinaire wicked-intensions
I love you," she sobbed, rubbing her hands over his face, his hair, his chest, making sure he was solid and real. "I love you, and I thought you were dead. I couldn't bear it. I thought I would die too."
"I'd walk through fire for you," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I have walked through fire for you.
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt wicked-intensions lazarus temperance
He lowered his head and beat, fists balled, teeth clenched, the roaring in his ears loud and total. He saw only Thomas’s bloody face, his brother’s mouth moving, saying something, perhaps pleading, and Griffin’s heart swelled with gleeful rage.
He’d touched her. He’d hurt her. And for that he deserved to walk upon crippled legs.
Mots clés elizabeth-hoyt griffinlordsexy notoious-pleasures
Griffin, please,” she whispered.
“Do you want me?” he asked.
“Yes!” She tossed her head restlessly. She’d explode if he didn’t give her release soon.
“Do you need me?” He kissed her nipple too gently.
“Please, please, please.”
“Do you love me?”
And somehow, despite her extremis, she saw the gaping hole of the trap. She peered up at him blindly in the dark. She couldn’t see his face, his expression.
“Griffin,” she sighed hopelessly.
“You can’t say it, can you?” he whispered. “Can’t admit it either.
Mots clés hero elizabeth-hoyt griffinlordsexy notorious-pleasures
Griffin leaned across the desk, his arms braced on the now-clear top, and stared into Wakefield’s outraged eyes. “We seem to be under a confusion of communication. I did not come here to ask for your sister’s hand. I came to tell you I will marry Hero, with or without your permission, Your Grace. She has lain with me more than once. She may well be carrying my child. And if you think that I’ll give up either her or our babe, you have not done nearly enough research into my character or history.
Elizabeth HoytMots clés elizabeth-hoyt griffinlordsexy notorious-pleasures
She swallowed and looked down at the artichoke petals piled neatly on the side of her plate. Her center certainly felt like it was melting, growing soft and wet just from the rasp of Mr. O’Connor’s voice. Why should a man already devilishly handsome also have a voice that could charm birds from the sky? It simply wasn’t fair.
Elizabeth HoytMots clés silence elizabeth-hoyt scandalous-desires
What,” Mick said softly, “is Lad doin’ in me bed?”
Hearing his name, Lad opened small, piggish, upside-down eyes, gazing with idiotic adoration as his whip-thin tail thumped the covers.
“Ah.” Harry scratched behind one ear. “Well, see, ’e was lookin’ so forlorn, like, out in the courtyard by ’imself. Seemed an awful shame to leave ’im there all alone.”
“Off!” Mick roared at the dog.
Lad’s transformation was instantaneous. His tiny triangle ears folded back, his eyes narrowed worriedly, and he rolled so that he could crawl toward the edge of the bed on his belly.
“Is that mud on his paws?” Mick asked in outrage.
Harry glanced at the dog. “I do believe it is,” he said as if making a discovery.
“Christ!” Mick watched disgustedly as Lad made the edge of the bed and slithered off, thumping to the floor. The dog seemed to think that his apology was done—or perhaps he’d already forgotten that Mick was mad at him—for he gamboled over as frisky as a lamb.
“He’s not even me dog,” Mick muttered.
Lad sat, one back leg sprawled out to the side, tongue hanging from his mouth, and grinned up at him. He completely ignored Harry, his supposed master.
“The dog ’as a wonderful affection for ye,” Harry said brightly.
Mots clés harry elizabeth-hoyt scandalous-desires lad-the-dog mickey
What,” came a deep male voice, “is this?”
Silence froze, her hand still outstretched, clutching a damp, dirty cloth. Oh, dear Lord. Slowly she raised her eyes and found herself face-to-thighs with Mickey O’Connor’s extremely tight breeches.
Mots clés silence elizabeth-hoyt scandalous-desires mickey
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