Khandarken Rising, the Last War by Sylvie Grayson

Author:Sylvie Grayson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: military, sci fi/fantasy, romantic suspense, Emperor Carlton, war zone
Publisher: Sylvie Grayson
Published: 2015-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty One

Beth rode the scooter slowly along the track through the new grass, flushed with pleasure and a secret joy shimmering within, aware of the faint soreness at the tender juncture of her thighs.

The last time they made love he’d lingered, moving slowly and deliberately, keeping her teetering on the absolute edge of satisfaction before taking them both over. It was indescribable. She could never have imagined it. Now she felt she couldn’t do without it.

What about her fiancé?

Dante kept asking about him and the fact that she was betrothed. Up to this point she’d preferred to ignore that fact. Her fiancé wasn’t a part of her life at this point and she’d always imagined she might be able to back out of the arrangement if she wanted. When Abe returned, they’d talk because it could affect the future of Farmer Holdings if she broke the betrothal.

Did she really have to go through with the arrangement though, one her father had sealed while she was still a minor? She wasn’t sure how to go about severing such a connection without severe repercussions.

On the other hand, as Dante pointed out, the man wasn’t exactly pursuing her. Why not?

Her thoughts skittered away at that. Maybe because he’d heard about her reputation, heard she was damaged goods.

Dante didn’t seem to think she was damaged. But then, he didn’t know what had happened to her. When he found out, he might have a totally different opinion. The thought made her shudder. She wasn’t ready to give him up. Not that she had him.

As she drew closer to the manorhouse she frowned as she spotted a hydrogen tryke coming down the track toward her. It slowed as it drew near.

“Bowcott?”

“Ms Farmer,” he said urgently. “Mr Renfrew is here. He needs to see you.” He took a huge breath. “You didn’t answer your wristlink and you were late coming back so we were worried. But then I saw you across the fields. He says it’s urgent.”

“Good heavens.”

“Yes, Ms. You go on. It’s best he sees you right away. He’s waiting at the manorhouse.”

“Thank you, Bowcott.” Beth parked the scooter against the barn, adjusting the stand to keep it upright and grabbed her pack with the paint supplies. Not that she’d used them. She blushed hotly in the gathering dusk.

The light was on over the back verandah, moths flying madly about it. Leaving her shoes in the cloak room entry, she pushed through to the kitchen. Hannan was wiping down the heatsurface.

“Oh, there you are, Ms. The steward is here, he says it’s urgent. I’ll bring you tea in the office. That’s where he’s waiting.”

Beth hurried through, dropping her pack in the women’s solar on her way to the garderobe to wash up.

“Deloume, I’m sorry you had to wait. I was out painting and forgot the time.” She offered her hand. He took it in his big soft one and held it.

Deloume was a beefy broad man, big in the jowls, heavy in the shoulders, soft in the middle.

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