Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

A momentary twinge of guilt had sparked in Godric when he poured laudanum in Emily's brandy. He wanted to trust her, give back her freedom, but she'd run. He couldn't let her go, not until his revenge was complete. Even then, Godric wasn't ready to set his fascinating little captive free. It amused him to see her discovering her own sensuality, though he knew that this did not cast him in an angelic light. He had to persuade Emily to take him, not force himself upon her, and none of it had to do with his revenge on Albert Parr.Once she succumbed to sleep, he called to the other side of the room where his friends were gathered. "Ash, could you help me?""What do you need?" Ashton rose from the table and came over.Godric touched the woman's cheek, her skin was baby soft. "Emily?"She didn't stir.Ashton raised a brow. "Did you give her something?""A little laudanum in her brandy. Please find Mrs. Downing and have her bring a clean change of clothes for Emily and my robe and slip

Only a tiny beam of light cut through the keyhole of the heavy wood armoire.Emily tried to remain absolutely still, focusing on the noises of the manor. Several minutes later, the door opened and Godric entered, followed by Blankenship and the magistrate. Emily bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her uncle's business partner moved through the room, studying it. She held her breath, terrified he would hear her panicked gasps for air. Finally the inspection of the room was over and the men departed. She sagged against Lucien in relief."Christ, that was close," Lucien muttered. "But they might be back. Keep still."After a quarter of an hour, Godric and Ashton's voices grew louder out in the hall. Lucien loosened his grip on Emily as the armoire door swung open. Ashton and Godric stared at the pair for a second before Godric snatched her out of Lucien's lap and tossed her over his shoulder. Sadly, she was getting used to the treatment. It was easier for him to carry her about whene

Godric stormed into the boxing room where Charles and Cedric had gathered to engage in a bit of pugilism. Charles, an expert boxer, loved to go a few rounds in the ring when in London. Of course, the rings Charles often found himself in were often less than reputable. Though he spent hours training at Jackson's Salon, he preferred the rougher rings, in which he proved himself.Cedric danced back as Charles attacked. "Godric? You look murderous.""The little brat twisting your trousers?" Charles joked as he swung a loose punch in Cedric's direction, missing by several inches.Godric tore off his waistcoat and started to roll up his sleeves. He nodded to Cedric who left the lined ring in the corner of the large leisure room."Shut up and fight me, Charles."Charles smirked, always ready to throw punches in Godric's direction when the occasion arose.They had only been at it for a few minutes when Ashton and Lucien walked in, both visibly upset. Lucien looked nervous while coldness

Godric was having the most wonderful dream. Emily lay curled up in his arms, finding warmth and protection from her nightmares. He had rarely slept with his former mistress, Evangeline. While she was a wicked temptress in bed, she was an awful partner to lie next to at night. She kicked, snored and stole the covers too frequently for him to enjoy the experience.His dream was too real and perfect. There was nothing carnal about the act, only the comfort of Emily's body entwined with his. Her face was pressed into the groove between his throat and chest, her body halfway on top of him, lounging asleep with that feline grace only women possessed.The coils of her hair were a russet waterfall against the pillow, and sunlight slid down the waves in enticing patterns. One of his arms curled around her waist, keeping her close. In this world Emily was his. She belonged to no one else, and he didn't have to share her with the world.Unfortunately, Emily didn't want to belong to him. Why di

The day was exceedingly fine with sunny skies and a light breeze. Emily leaned down to let the knee-high silky grass brush under her palms. Cedric and Charles walked on either side of her, carrying on a conversation while Emily listened. Penelope, not tethered by a leash, moved about several yards ahead. The small puppy worked to jump through grass, a good five inches above her head. Emily smiled at the pup's black nose trained to the ground. She sniffed and then bounded over the grass only to resume sniffing again."So then," said Cedric, "I said to the sheikh, 'Bet you eight hundred pounds I can win this hand,' and the sheikh, the haughty bastard, replied, 'Let us make the wager on something more valuable. How would a pair of Arabian mares suit you?' And I told him I would accept that wager.""Are these the mares you mean to breed with Anne Chessley's stallion?""The very pair!" Cedric laughed."You won the horses from the sheikh then?" Emily asked in amazement. "Wasn't he angry?