Cheryl Holt by More Than Seduction

Author:More Than Seduction
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

13

Anne rose, the water sluicing off her torso, the cold night air blasting her heated skin. There was a touch of autumn on the breeze, yellow leaves in the trees, and soon, she’d be attending the dance at the harvest festival.

Stephen would be gone by then, and she tried not to feel any regret, but it swept over her anyway.

He was walking across the yard, his strong legs covering the grass in easy strides. Other than a slight hobble in his gait, it was difficult to identify him as the same man who’d come to her in June, weak, sickened, and crippled.

Through diet and strenuous exercise, he’d regained much of his weight, growing whipcord lean, his muscled physique the type a sculptor might carve into a block of marble.

Mental wounds lingered, though they were abating, and his nightmares had lessened, too, and she was idiotic enough to wonder if it was because he slept with her. She wanted to be the reason.

When he’d moved upstairs, she’d been too embarrassed to explain the intimate situation to her servants. She’d had Kate do it for her, and they’d been kind enough to pretend that there was no torrid romance occurring. They went about their duties as though stumbling upon him in the morning, cuddled next to her, was perfectly normal.

Thank God, none of them had quit! If they’d been outraged by her immorality, she couldn’t have borne it. She was shocked, herself, by her complete and unconditional fall from grace, but Stephen was like a disease for which there was no cure.

The staff had accepted his presence, showing him the deference they might have had he been her husband. Even the lad who helped Kate in the stable wasn’t immune to Stephen’s charisma, and like a lost puppy, followed him around whenever he was outside.

He was stockier now, no longer fitting in the wardrobe of Phillip’s old apparel in which she’d dressed him early on, so he’d had a trunk of his own possessions delivered from Bristol Manor. The first time he’d donned his finery and tromped downstairs, she’d been so stunned that she’d had to grab a chair and sit down. The cook had been with her, and she’d been so flustered that she’d burned the muffins.

Decked out as he’d been, in breeches and a tailored white shirt, his blue coat setting off the color of his eyes, his hair pushed off his forehead, he’d resembled an angel painted on a church ceiling.

No, she thought, not an angel. He was too dark. Too dangerous. A devil! That’s what he was! A devil with the power to corrupt and seduce.

Currently, he was attired in his robe, a thin, silky garment constructed of an exotic fabric that a friend had brought him from the Orient. He shrugged out of it, and he was naked, his cock partially erect with his anticipation of what would happen once he entered the pool.

As he maneuvered the ramp, immersing himself to his ankles, to his thighs, he kept his gaze locked on hers, and she was so mesmerized that she couldn’t look away.

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