DEVIL’S EMBRACE by Catherine Coulter

Scargill shrugged philosophically. “At least ye have naught to concern yerself about with the girl, Rosina, or, for that matter, the rest of the servants. It’s fond of her they are.”

“Now, Scargill, I’m off to tell Joseph. It’s to be hoped that he can curb some of her more devil-may-care activities.” He said over his shoulder as he strode down the staircase, “If she lashes out at you when you see her, consider yourself warned.”

“My congratulations, my lord,” Joseph said when the earl had tracked him down in the stable. But there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. He laid down the haying fork and turned to stroke the earl’s stallion, Cicero. “I suppose you’ll not be needing me anymore.”

“On the contrary. She’ll certainly need you more than my horse does. I trust you, you know, to keep her in line and prevent her from from doing anything foolish.”

Joseph nodded, his calm gray eyes clear again. Suddenly, he laughed and shook his head. “Do you know, she told me that you had recounted the story of my near-disastrous end with Khar El-Din. She called me a fool, but assured me that she was pleased that I had remained a man. She was certain that I would not have been happy as a eunuch.”

“I hope you do not mind, Joseph. As I recall, I really had no choice in the matter other than to tell her. She can be quite insistent, you know.”

“And she took no offense at the part you played, my lord?” He whistled, clearly amazed that the earl had told her.

“You may be sure that she did, much to my delight. She will be a fiercely loyal wife. If ever in the future I am tempted to stray, I would fear as grave a punishment as Khar El-Din planned for you.”

During the next several days, the earl left Cassie to herself, sensing that she needed to be alone. She was often silent, her brows drawn together in thought. He was able, at least, to plan her meals carefully, and she was ill only once.

One evening after they had finished their dinner, a silent meal in which Cassie had spent most of her time pushing her food back and forth on her plate, she suddenly laid down her fork and raised her eyes to his face.

“You have eaten practically nothing,” he said, frowning at her near-full plate.

She waved away his words. “I would speak with you, my lord.”

She pulled her shawl more closely about her shoulders, and he saw her fingers nervously twisting around the stem of her wine glass.

“What is it you have to say to me, cara?”

“I am pregnant.”

She sounded very positive and he allowed himself a slight grin. “Indeed, I believe that you are right.”

“I have given it much thought and have decided that I can no longer return to England, or to Edward, in my current condition.”

He drew a sharp breath, aware that his heart was racing, and waited.

“I suppose that you could not have really planned for me to become pregnant. However, the result is the same. I cannot allow my child to be born a bastard.”

He nodded, and waited for her to continue.

His dark eyes widened in amazement when she said in a calm voice, “I have observed, my lord, that you have been avoiding me, both during the day and at night. Is it that you now find me distasteful?”

“Distasteful? Good lord, woman, I have merely done what I thought you wanted of me—left you time to yourself to sort through your feelings. Now, cara, I will show you how distasteful I find you.”

He rose from his chair, scooped her into his arms, turning a deaf ear to her protests, and carried her upstairs.

“Tell me, my love,” he whispered, as they made love, “do I seem like a man who holds you in distaste?”

He allowed himself to move deep within her, and she moaned softly, her golden hair swirling about her face.

“Do I?”

“No.”

He was moving with her, his hard body covering her, consuming her in its heat, and she clutched him to her, burying her face against his shoulder. For the endless moments her body exploded into climax, she felt bound to him, possessed by him, body and soul. When her body calmed, her mind reeled from that incredible feeling, and she burst into frightened sobs.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *