The Second Seduction
Page 36
His father made no pretence of eating, his plate lying
untouched in front of him. He looked old and frail. “Th
is is
my fault. I was young and stupid, but I swear I never knew
Justin was my child until Margery told me. By then, it was
too late. I was married. Margery married soon after. I don’t
think Gerald knew until afterwards. We never spoke of it.”
Th
e earl’s faded blue eyes drifted back to the past. “I never
saw Margery or the boy until after Gerald died in the hunting
425
SHELLEY MUNRO
accident. I tried to do my best for the boy, but he wanted
more than I could give.”
Lucien felt a twinge of sympathy. His father hadn’t
acted honorably and suff ered for it. “Father, Justin can’t hurt
anyone now. Put it in the past where it belongs.”
Th
e earl turned to him, his eyes moist with tears. “I’ve
waited a long time to hear you call me Father. Glad you
remembered.” He stood and Tickell handed him a cane. “I
believe I will retire to my chamber.” He hobbled from the
breakfast room. Th
e cane tapped on the fl oor, highlighting
his slow, pained progress.
Rosalind placed her eating utensils down. “I intend to
retire to my chamber as well. Last night was a long one.”
“Would you like a maidservant to attend you, Lady Ro-
salind?” Tickell asked.
Lucien stood and moved behind Rosalind. “Send hot
water for a bath, please, Tickell. I will attend my wife.”
Tickell barely blinked at the order. “Yes, my lord.”
“Scandalous,” Lady Augusta snapped.
Charles laughed, and she nailed him with a dark glare.
She gave a haughty sniff . “Th
is treasure business is stuff
and nonsense. A tale. Th
ere are no jewels. Tell me more of
this map.”
Lucien took Rosalind’s arm. A sense of rightness accom-
426
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
panied the gesture. “I believe I’ll retire too,” he murmured
next to her ear. “We’ll leave them to argue about the possibili-
ties of treasure.”
Her blue eyes danced with silent humor. “Yesterday was
very tiring. I might sleep for two days.”
“Good morning,” Lucien said, nodding at his aunt and
Charles. Th
ey strolled down the Long Gallery. Lucien saw
the portraits with new eyes.
His ancestors.
“It’s good to have family,” Rosalind remarked.
Lucien stared at her, amazed at her uncanny timing. “I
was just thinking that. I know their names.”
“I know you do.” She smiled gently. “You know that the
villagers believe I am a witch.”
“Rumors,” he dismissed.
“You know they’re not.”
His dark eyes danced suddenly and a slow smile bloomed
on his mouth. “I’ll have to remember not to touch you if I
want to keep a secret.”
Th
e tight grip around her heart loosened, but still she
wanted reassurance, to hear the words. “Does my gift frighten
you? Appall you? It’s likely I’ll pass it on to our children.”
Lucien heard frustration and bitterness in her voice.
“You’ll help our children, should they inherit your gift,” he
427
SHELLEY MUNRO
said, knowing it was nothing less than the truth. “Do you
read my thoughts all the time?”
“I can, if I concentrate. When we were fi rst married, it
was more diffi
cult, but now . . .” Th
e color in her cheeks deep-
ened to a fl attering pink and her eyes lowered.
Since they’ d made love. Lucien grinned as smug male
pride fi lled him.
“I can block your thoughts, if I concentrate,” she blurted.
“It’s like eavesdropping. It’s not a polite thing to do so I try to
block most of the time.”
“Except when you’re investigating strange goings on at
the castle,” Lucien commented. “Th
en you endanger yourself
by using the gift.” Th
ey paused outside Rosalind’s chamber
for Lucien to push open the door.
“You’re making fun of me,” she murmured.
Lucien stared down at her bowed head. While her gift
wouldn’t make their marriage an easy one, their relationship
would be passionate and loving. Of that, he was in no doubt.
Rosalind might be tiny, but she was feisty. He’d discovered he
loved spirited women, and one in particular.
A maid looked up as they strolled into Rosalind’s cham-
ber arm in arm.
“Leave us,” Lucien said, not taking his gaze from his
wife. He heard the maid’s giggle and Rosalind’s soft gasp.
428
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
“Tell Tickell we’d like the bath sent to my chamber.”
“Yes, milord.”
Th
e door clicked shut behind the maid. Th
e air throbbed
between them. Lucien swept a hand down Rosalind’s soft
cheek, his hand grazing the pulse point at her throat. Her
breath hitched, the pulse beating faster.
“I love you, Rosalind,” he whispered. He slid pins from
her hair until long strands fell loose around her shoulders.
Slowly her head rose and her gaze connected with his. A
jolt of recognition seared through his body.
She smiled softly. “I know. I love you too.” She stood on
tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Lucien stepped away from temptation to strip off his
crumpled black jacket. His blood-speckled shirt followed,
then his hands went to his breeches. “I’m not sure you do,”
he said, his voice quiet. Solemn. “But, you will after the next
two days.”
Th
e color in her cheeks heightened, but her gaze never
wavered. “I like the idea,” she mused. Her blue eyes danced
like a rippling Italian pool. “Show me,” she demanded.
One hand trailed lazily down his bare chest, while pure
love blazed across her face. Lucien’s heart slammed against
his ribs. His pulse sped. “With pleasure, my lady. We have an
heir to produce.” As he spoke, his hands busily undid laces
429
SHELLEY MUNRO
and pushed fabric aside to reveal skin. He bent and pressed
his lips to the tender place where her neck joined her shoulder.
His teeth nipped lightly before soothing the bite with a tender
press of his lips. Rosalind made a soft sound of approval and
arched her neck to give him better access.
“Do you like that?” Lucien didn’t wait for an answer
but whisked her dress down, baring her breasts. His breath
caught as he smoothed the back of his hand across her plump
curves. So beautiful. Lucien had diffi
culty believing Rosalind
was his wife.
“I’m not only your wife, but I love you,” she murmured,
her blue eyes twinkling up at him.
“It’s going to take me time to get used to you doing that
— reading my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” Rosalind murmured. “I . . .”
Lucien stopped her apology with a kiss. His lips slid across
hers biting and tasting. Tormenting. Desire stirred, riding him
hard. She was so sweet. His. A second chance at love.
He slid his hands down her shoulders and cupped her
breasts before scooping Rosalind off her feet with a sud-
denness that made her squeak. Lucien carried her over to
the bed. After stripping off her dress, shoes and stockings,
Lucien yanked off his breeches and joined her. He drew her
close, angled his mouth over hers and laced his hands into
430
THE SECOND SEDUCTION
her long hair.
“Ah, Lucien,” Rosalind murmured. Th
eir naked limbs
brushed together. Slowly, he explored her body with careful
attention to detail. He touched her breasts, her shoulders,
her belly, and her legs until she ached for his possession.
Lucien wedged her thighs apart and surged into her body,
kissing her fi ercely at the same time. Rosalind arched into
him . Frissons of pleasure spilled through her as they rocked
together. Th
e sensation built, growing bigger and bigger it
exploded inside her.
For a long time after, Rosalind clung to Lucien’s power-
ful shoulders, savoring the closeness, the feeling of together-
ness, of being one with him.
Th
is was security, and she was fi nally home.
431
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Paranormal
A Lost Touch of Bliss
Chapter 1
Wareham Castle, Cumberland, 1196
“Please come to Falcon’s Craig,” the note read. “I
am in need of your unique services. I own Villa
Delphino on the Italian coast. It is yours if you will aid
me.” Amice de Monceaux read the Earl of Hawksdown’s
boldly scrawled letter for the second time and crushed the
vellum in her fist.
Then she started shaking. How could Cain ask this of
her? Tempt her with the one thing he knew she had always
dreamt of ever since her brother told her stories of the sun-
drenched land. And why did he own the villa? That was
her dream.
3
Amy Tolnitch
Her stomach churned with memories, too many, too
clear even now. After five years, she could still feel Cain’s
arms around her. And could still hear his calm voice
saying, “I am betrothed,” before he walked away.
The door to her chamber opened slowly. “Amice, dear?
Are you in here?”
“Aye, Mother.” Amice stuffed the vellum under her
mattress and crossed the rush-covered floor to take her
mother’s arm.
Lady Eleanora pulled free and paced across the
chamber, her pale fingers fluttering like butterflies in a
meadow. “I cannot find Beornwynne’s Kiss. Your father,
the whoreson, must have hidden it again.”
Amice took a deep breath, no longer startled by her
mother’s language. And, truth be told, she accurately
described her late father. “Mother, the necklace is right
here.” She opened a trunk and lifted out a carved box,
placing it in her mother’s hands. “ ’Tis safe, as always.”
Her mother sat on the stone ledge in front of the window
slit and opened the box. She gathered up the heavy gold
and amethyst necklace in her gnarled fingers.
Amice laid a hand on her mother’s shoulder and felt
bones, as if she held a tiny bird beneath her palm. “Would
you like to go sit in the garden, Mother?”
Her mother’s brow furrowed, and she tilted her head to
stare at Amice. “Where is Isolda? I told her to get my blue
gown ready for the feast tonight.”
“Mother, Isolda died last year.” Amice kept her voice
4
A Lost Touch of Bliss
even, though she wanted to scream at the loss of the vibrant
person who had been her mother and friend.
Blinking quickly, her mother looked around the
chamber, as if she expected Isolda to pop out from behind
the bed at any moment. “Aye, of course.” She gave a small
laugh. “I was confused for a moment. Poor Isolda. How
I miss her.”
Amice squeezed her mother’s shoulder and took a deep
breath. “Come with me outside. ’Tis a beautiful day.”
“What were we talking about?”
“Beornwynne’s Kiss.”
“Of course. I . . . forgot.” Her mother dropped the
necklace, grabbed Amice’s hands and squeezed tight. Too
tight. Amice felt her mother’s frail body tremble.
“Mother,” she began.
Her mother’s gaze clouded. “Beornwynne’s Kiss will
protect me, see me safe across the river when I die.”
“And you have it.”
When her mother looked up at her, her gaze was far
away. “Is this it?” she asked, her lips trembling.
Amice stared down at the top of her mother’s head,
the strands of silver hair mixed with white, and her heart
splintered. “Mother, all is well.”
Her mother patted Amice on the hand and rose. She
wobbled and caught herself for a moment with her hand on
the seat, waving Amice away with the other. “I believe I
shall go down to the kitchen and see if Cook has prepared
any meat pies.”
5
Amy Tolnitch
“ ’Tis a good idea.” Amice watched her mother’s
departure with a heavy heart, the knowledge that she was
dying an aching lump in her belly.
The’ only reason Amice remained at Wareham was to
care for her mother. And by Michaelmas, her brother, the
Earl of Wareham, would be wed to a woman who made it
clear Wareham would have only one mistress.
Soon, she would have no place.
She closed her eyes and envisioned soft sand, a sparkling
blue sea, and golden sunlight. Yes, there she could find
peace. Take what Cain offers, her inner voice urged. Take
it and flee to warmth and beauty.
How simple it sounded, but in her heart she knew it
would take every scrap of strength and pride she possessed.
Five years ago Cain Veuxfort had nearly destroyed her.
Had taken her heart into the palm of his hand and then
crushed it in his uncaring fist.
Her mouth curved in a wry smile. Now, it appeared he
had a troublesome ghost who would not leave him alone.
He needed her, the Spirit Goddess. She would be a fool
not to take everything she could gain from Cain Veuxfort.
Aye, he would give her what he offered and more.
And she would be free.
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Lady Dragon
Jewell Mason
2004 Romance Studio CAPA Award
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Winner for Best Historical
What will a lady do to keep all she holds dear?
Lady Celeste Brystowe has very little left in the world; her
ancestral home, Ambellshire; a haunting remembrance
that threatens to destroy her life; and a dark secret she
will do anything to protect. The last thing she needs,
or wants, is a man in her life. Particularly the one man
who can unravel the fabric of deceit she has woven, and
leave her with nothing but a memory of betrayal.
What must a man do to take what is his?
Devon de Grenfeld has it all, and as liege lord of Ambellshire,
goes to accept the oath of fealty that is due him. He expected
it to be a matter easily taken care of. He did not expect to
become entangled in a web of intrigue, or to be attracted to a
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Together . . .
Devon and Celeste might put the past to rest and salvage
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Nan Ryan
LUCY HART IS SETTING OUT ON THE
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On the verge of turning thirty, the overly responsible
Postmistress of Colonias, New York is planning to
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BLACKIE LADUKE IS TAKING A VACATION FROM
A LIFE OVERFLOWING WITH ADVENTURE . . .
Escaping the heat of New York City, along with matrimonial
heat coming his way, roguish Blackie is intrigued when
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When these two very different worlds collide, can
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CATHERINE KEAN
ANCE ESIRE
D
of
Desperate to save her brother R
D
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as a traitor, Lady Rexana Villeaux must dance in disguise
at a feast for the High Sheriff of Warringham. Her goal
is to distract him so her servant can steal a damning
missive from the sheriff ’s solar. Dressed in the gauzy
costume of a desert courtesan, dancing with all the