Adrift With the Viscount (Lords of the Night Book Three) by Sandra Sookoo

Author:Sandra Sookoo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, historical romance, regency, regency romance, regency era, mermen, historical paranormal, regency lords, birthmarks, cursed lords
Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing

CHAPTER ELEVEN

For the first time in his life, Valentine felt fear. He’d finally gained the trust of the woman looking at him from the bed with the wide eyes full of anxiety, and now there was every possibility he’d lose that trust as soon as he uttered the damning words that sat on the tip of his tongue.

Devil take this curse.

How bacon-brained he’d been to forget about it, for Phoebe had that effect on him. Her drive to find happiness for herself and her wont for adventure had sparked new life in him, and he selfishly wished for that too. Now that they’d consummated their union, the distraction she was had increased exponentially.

“Valentine? What did you wish to tell me?” The dulcet tones of her voice brought him back to the present and the mess he might make of his life.

Unable to remain close to her and her naked skin still flushed from their recent nocturnal activity, he slid from the bed, and regardless of his own nude state, he began to pace the small confines of the cabin. “You shared one of your secrets with me earlier. Now it’s my turn.” Preparatory speeches only staved off the inevitable so far.

She nodded. “Go on.”

“Right.” He shoved a hand through his hair. How had Manchester told his wife of his cursed side? Had he laid it out truthfully and let her come to her own conclusions? Devon had had it easier, for his wife already knew of his affliction, but his battle was just as difficult. Valentine rested his gaze on Phoebe. Please suspend enough disbelief for me. “How much do you know about the founders of Bête Noire?”

Perhaps it was best to ease into the conversation because he was a coward.

“Very little.” Her shrug lifted a shoulder and set one of her full, perfect breasts quivering. “I never listened to the rumors or the talk among the ladies there, for I’ve had too much gossip circulated about me. I didn’t care to have my perspectives on any of you sullied.”

That spoke more to her character than anything else. He gave her a half-grin. “Ah, I’m beginning to think there is none like you.” With shock constricting his chest, for the first time, he saw her as his viscountess—a person where he’d never imagined any female he’d been with— instead of the woman he’d wed on a lark. She would do well with the title and perhaps the two of them would make a difference within the ton.

“You said yourself that I’m unique.” A touch of pink stained her cheeks. Was it delight? He hoped so as she slipped from the bed, retrieved her abandoned wrapper and then clad herself in it. The silk, though it shielded her lush body, did little to conceal the erect points of her nipples.

His mouth watered at the thought of pleasuring her anew, but after he told her his tale, would she let him touch her again? Shoving those thoughts aside, he carefully closed off all access to his thoughts.

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