Aphrodite's Brew by Delle Jacobs

Author:Delle Jacobs
Language: ron
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

He felt the jerk of her body beneath him and snapped awake.

Devil it!

What had he done?

It wasn’t a dream this time! He’d actually made love to her! In spite of everything he had known, about her, about women! Where had his mind gone?

Val stared at the woman beneath him, who was staring back at him, eyes wide with horror. Or certainly it appeared to be horror. If she didn’t have an expectation of him now, then she was the dullest brained woman he had ever met.

And she certainly was not that.

Val pushed himself off the lady, off the fainting couch. Devil it! What had he done? This was utterly unlike him. Or more to the point, what had she done to him?

Bedamn, was this how the other men had been trapped? Seduced?

And here, he’d always thought seduction was a male prerogative.

He glanced back at her as she righted herself and grabbed for the red silk at the same time, averting her gaze. He’d better think of something fast, because he could all but see those machine-like cogs working in her brain.

Belatedly, he realized he had left his garments strewn all over the sitting room. He scooped up the blue striped banyan from the floor and threw it on his naked body. “You needn’t look so horrified, Lady Ashbroughton. It was only a moment’s passion. It means nothing.”

Her jaw dropped open, then snapped shut. Ha. He’d cut that little scheme short. But for a passing second, he thought he glimpsed something else in her eyes, the sting of betrayal. Oh, no, he’d not fall for that one. She had lured him, but he was not obligated to languish in her trap.

“Do not delude yourself that I shall be making any trips to the altar.”

“Noth—” she said, her mouth suddenly gaping again. She gasped. “You think I did this to trap you?”

Sylvia bolted from the couch, fumbling about with the dressing robe, her exquisite body completely bare below as she jerked it over her head and tossed it to the fainting couch, but it slid like flowing water to the floor. “This was your doing, sir. I did not ask you to come into this chamber, and certainly not to kiss me while I slept.”

“You were awake.”

“Entirely beside the point, as you woke me. And for that matter, I did not ask to stop at this inn, and certainly did not ask you to call me your wife.” She whirled about, scooping up her garments from tabletops and pegs and grabbed her half-boots from the hearth.

“Sylvia, what are you doing?” Val tied the sash of the banyan.

“Lady Ashbroughton to you, sir. I am getting dressed. And I am returning to Willow Combe if I have to walk there, since Bath is obviously too far.”

With her arms full of soggy, limp garments, she fumbled for the door handle and threw open the sitting room door.

“Oh!” She slammed it shut. Val got a glimpse of servants moving inside the room and guessed they were

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