[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
forbidden place? He offered her a glass of wine and reached for the book at his feet.
Now, ask me what Rat Ki Rami means.
What does it mean? she said asked with a smile as she licked a drop of claret
from her lips.
He stared at her for a long while, his gaze focused on her mouth before he slowly
looked into her eyes. When at last he spoke his voice was gruff, almost harsh in its
intensity. Mistress of the Night. H reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. In
India the tuberose blooms are known by the name. You re wearing my blooms in your
hair. He nodded to the sprig of tuberose she had impulsively tucked into a curl. We re
together, alone in the blackness of night, therefore, you re my Mistress of the Night, and I
have you, at least for an hour, safely tucked away in my Harem.
She felt her hand tremble in his as he rubbed her knuckles across his lips, heard
her whimper of surprise as he pressed her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes, his black
lashes fanned across his cheek. The Bride of Abydos, he said in a deep, husky voice,
shall I begin?
Yes, she said breathlessly, entranced by the sight of him so close beside her, the
scent of him, soap and sandalwood clinging to the air between them. She watched him
open the book, his head mere inches from her shoulder as he sprawled out, his leg bent
casually, his elbow propped with a pillow.
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle& .
Madeline relaxed against the tree trunk as she listened to Blaine s deep, rich
timbre. He had a lovely voice, a voice designed to entrance, to enthrall those with its lush
Mistress of the Night Charlotte Featherstone 64
sound. She marveled as his voice inflected every emotion of the poet, the words bringing
on new meaning. She studied him as he read, his long, tapered fingers turned the pages
with unpracticed ease. His hair, black as coal shone nearly blue in the candlelight that
flickered beside him. The top of his head was bent, nearly level with her breasts. He was
so close that with every whisper of the breeze she wished she had the boldness to run her
fingers through his silken hair. He was handsome and passionate, romantic yet brash. He
was everything she had ever wanted and more.
He lived--he breathed--he moved--he felt-
Blaine, she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder when he d finished the
passage. Will you read that again?
He looked up at her, his eyes flickering with warmth--with life. He dropped his
gaze and looked at her hand, then brought his lips to her fingertips, kissing them with the
barest grazing of his lips. And then he read it, the sound of his voice the most enthralling
thing she d ever heard.
She sighed when he finished. Every night I have read your letter, delighting in
the words and in awe of the power of them. I have been overcome by their beauty. But
nothing, she whispered, raking nervous fingers through his hair, nothing compares to
the sound of hearing them in your own voice.
Every night I have imagined saying them to you, he said, sitting up and taking
her face in his hands. Never did I dare to hope they would affect you in such a way.
They have. She spoke the truth before she could stop herself. Phoebe had said
to stay aloof, to draw him out and play the game. But she couldn t. She didn t play at
games, she wasn t cunning or deceitful and she wasn t ashamed of her feelings. They
were natural, honest, and pure.
Maddy, he kissed her cheeks, then her jaw. You cannot know what it is like to
want what you cannot have.
I would not deny you. She framed his face in her hands and stared into his
tortured eyes. It is not in my power to deny you.
You must, he hissed, his lips only inches from hers. You don t understand. I
know this must not happen, yet I cannot stop it.
I can t stop, either, she said, sliding her hands along his face to run her fingers
through his hair. I don t want to stop, Blaine.
Maddy. He whispered her name in such a way it made her shiver. There was a
need in his voice, it was more than sexual desire. It was something far more elusive. She
looked up and met his eyes, surprised by the heat in his eyes, shocked to see his lip
quivering. His fingers were locked firmly against her face, his eyes focused solely on her
lips.
I have& he mumbled, then stopped, licked his lip, his eyes never once straying
from her mouth. I want.. he lowered his mouth, his breath hot against her lips, his eyes
open, alert, watching--seeing. Don t push me away, he groaned, lowering his head so
that his lip trembled against hers, not now& .not ever.
And then his lips were upon hers and Madeline felt as if she had never felt
anything softer, sweeter or more beautiful against them.
Mmmmm, he heard himself moan, cursing at the absurdity of it while at the
Mistress of the Night Charlotte Featherstone 65
same time slinking down to the ground and taking her with him.
It was like nothing he d ever thought to experience. Her warm and pliant lips
beckoned him to explore deeper and yet he knew to do that, to enter her mouth and kiss
her intimately would be his demise. He d already risked too much by coming to see her.
He d shown too much of his need and now he was displaying too much of his desire, the
urgency he felt when their lips touched and held.
Her hands glided down his head and over his shoulders, his muscles tensed, then
flexed as her fingers danced, feather-light along his throat and over his chest. Jesus, he
was hungry, far hungrier than he had ever been in his life and he had yet to even slip
inside her mouth and taste her.
Slanting his lips over hers, he groaned and brought her closer to him, nearly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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forbidden place? He offered her a glass of wine and reached for the book at his feet.
Now, ask me what Rat Ki Rami means.
What does it mean? she said asked with a smile as she licked a drop of claret
from her lips.
He stared at her for a long while, his gaze focused on her mouth before he slowly
looked into her eyes. When at last he spoke his voice was gruff, almost harsh in its
intensity. Mistress of the Night. H reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. In
India the tuberose blooms are known by the name. You re wearing my blooms in your
hair. He nodded to the sprig of tuberose she had impulsively tucked into a curl. We re
together, alone in the blackness of night, therefore, you re my Mistress of the Night, and I
have you, at least for an hour, safely tucked away in my Harem.
She felt her hand tremble in his as he rubbed her knuckles across his lips, heard
her whimper of surprise as he pressed her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes, his black
lashes fanned across his cheek. The Bride of Abydos, he said in a deep, husky voice,
shall I begin?
Yes, she said breathlessly, entranced by the sight of him so close beside her, the
scent of him, soap and sandalwood clinging to the air between them. She watched him
open the book, his head mere inches from her shoulder as he sprawled out, his leg bent
casually, his elbow propped with a pillow.
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle& .
Madeline relaxed against the tree trunk as she listened to Blaine s deep, rich
timbre. He had a lovely voice, a voice designed to entrance, to enthrall those with its lush
Mistress of the Night Charlotte Featherstone 64
sound. She marveled as his voice inflected every emotion of the poet, the words bringing
on new meaning. She studied him as he read, his long, tapered fingers turned the pages
with unpracticed ease. His hair, black as coal shone nearly blue in the candlelight that
flickered beside him. The top of his head was bent, nearly level with her breasts. He was
so close that with every whisper of the breeze she wished she had the boldness to run her
fingers through his silken hair. He was handsome and passionate, romantic yet brash. He
was everything she had ever wanted and more.
He lived--he breathed--he moved--he felt-
Blaine, she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder when he d finished the
passage. Will you read that again?
He looked up at her, his eyes flickering with warmth--with life. He dropped his
gaze and looked at her hand, then brought his lips to her fingertips, kissing them with the
barest grazing of his lips. And then he read it, the sound of his voice the most enthralling
thing she d ever heard.
She sighed when he finished. Every night I have read your letter, delighting in
the words and in awe of the power of them. I have been overcome by their beauty. But
nothing, she whispered, raking nervous fingers through his hair, nothing compares to
the sound of hearing them in your own voice.
Every night I have imagined saying them to you, he said, sitting up and taking
her face in his hands. Never did I dare to hope they would affect you in such a way.
They have. She spoke the truth before she could stop herself. Phoebe had said
to stay aloof, to draw him out and play the game. But she couldn t. She didn t play at
games, she wasn t cunning or deceitful and she wasn t ashamed of her feelings. They
were natural, honest, and pure.
Maddy, he kissed her cheeks, then her jaw. You cannot know what it is like to
want what you cannot have.
I would not deny you. She framed his face in her hands and stared into his
tortured eyes. It is not in my power to deny you.
You must, he hissed, his lips only inches from hers. You don t understand. I
know this must not happen, yet I cannot stop it.
I can t stop, either, she said, sliding her hands along his face to run her fingers
through his hair. I don t want to stop, Blaine.
Maddy. He whispered her name in such a way it made her shiver. There was a
need in his voice, it was more than sexual desire. It was something far more elusive. She
looked up and met his eyes, surprised by the heat in his eyes, shocked to see his lip
quivering. His fingers were locked firmly against her face, his eyes focused solely on her
lips.
I have& he mumbled, then stopped, licked his lip, his eyes never once straying
from her mouth. I want.. he lowered his mouth, his breath hot against her lips, his eyes
open, alert, watching--seeing. Don t push me away, he groaned, lowering his head so
that his lip trembled against hers, not now& .not ever.
And then his lips were upon hers and Madeline felt as if she had never felt
anything softer, sweeter or more beautiful against them.
Mmmmm, he heard himself moan, cursing at the absurdity of it while at the
Mistress of the Night Charlotte Featherstone 65
same time slinking down to the ground and taking her with him.
It was like nothing he d ever thought to experience. Her warm and pliant lips
beckoned him to explore deeper and yet he knew to do that, to enter her mouth and kiss
her intimately would be his demise. He d already risked too much by coming to see her.
He d shown too much of his need and now he was displaying too much of his desire, the
urgency he felt when their lips touched and held.
Her hands glided down his head and over his shoulders, his muscles tensed, then
flexed as her fingers danced, feather-light along his throat and over his chest. Jesus, he
was hungry, far hungrier than he had ever been in his life and he had yet to even slip
inside her mouth and taste her.
Slanting his lips over hers, he groaned and brought her closer to him, nearly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]