One Wicked Night by Shelley Bradley

Author:Shelley Bradley [Bradley, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9781936596027
Amazon: 1936596024
Publisher: Shelley Bradley LLC
Published: 2011-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

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Lucien inhaled deeply of the brisk, biting air before throwing open the door to his town house. The porter, roused from his predawn slumber, rushed to greet Lucien.

“My lord,” the servant said.

Lucien paused, trying to make his inebriated brain communicate to his mouth. “Is my wife still abed?”

The porter nodded. “I believe so, my lord.”

Lucien handed over his cloak and gloves, then hurried to the stairs. Serena. He wanted to assure himself she was still alive and had not run off in some silly display of temper. She was his wife, the mother of his unborn child, and his responsibility now—one he planned to take very seriously.

After their flash of a wedding, Lucien had gone to think, to sort out this new twist in his life. He had finally come to some conclusions after collecting Niles and driving them to a favorite pub. Once there, he proceeded to consume a bottle and a half of port and turn away three women of questionable virtue.

He did not imagine his little wife would like his decisions.

Once inside his room, Lucien eased open the door between his chamber and Serena’s and slipped inside the domain he had not entered for two years. He crossed the floor, using the gray morning light to guide him.

Lucien halted at the side of the bed. She lay on her back with her hair braided primly. The coil, as thick as his wrist, rested on her pillow. The weak morning sun highlighted the white-gold strands, so different from Ravenna’s ebony.

He curled tense fingers into a fist. True, his new wife did not seem to want him any more than the last one had. She had only wanted him when cuckolding Warrington. Nor should he want her. After all, he had suffered no further desire after discovering Ravenna’s true nature. He could not explain why, knowing Serena’s adulterous tendencies, he had been unable to think of little else but divesting Serena of her clothes and burying himself deep inside her.

The whys of his desire hardly mattered. England’s laws gave him the right to exercise his husbandly privileges. After much thought, he saw no reason to pursue any other avenue. They were wed until death, and he intended this marriage to last that long. He would not endure another divorce, nor would Serena become tangled in another adulterous scandal.

He planned to make absolutely certain of that.

Still, she looked like an angel, even lying amidst the red satin linens. His eyes traveled over the short, gathered sleeves of her lace-trimmed undergarment, the delicacy of her rounded cheek, the honey of her skin. The desire she always roused soared to a driving urge to bare her, mount her, pleasure her. And he would. Soon.

Unconsciously, his eyes wandered up a red wall to Ravenna’s portrait a lá Venus. No doubt, she was among the most beautiful, carnal creatures God had ever created. During her come-out, some had called her the Devil’s Daughter. Her silky raven hair, fair skin, and opulent red mouth had

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