Storm of Shadows by Christina Dodd

Author:Christina Dodd
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.

Chapter 24

“What the hell?” Aaron lifted his head. The car was slowing.

“What is it?” Rosamund’s voice sounded blurred, uncertain.

He lifted himself on one elbow.

They had turned into the long, lighted driveway that led to the château.

They were here. At the party. Now.

“That liar Philippe said it would take an hour.” Aaron looked at his watch and swore viciously. “It’s been an hour and fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, no.” Rosamund pushed her hair out of her eyes. “We’ve been doing, um, this for over an hour?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He was ten minutes away from his own satisfaction, and the château was two minutes away. Hell, he could get off in two minutes, but—He looked down at Rosamund.

She had barely finished the kind of orgasm that made him want to polish his good lover merit badge. If he jumped her and finished in two minutes, he’d deserve to lose that badge forever. She needed more than a quickie and a pat on the butt. She needed a chance to find herself again. And she obviously didn’t have a clue how to do that because virgins didn’t know how to play at sophistication, pretend sex was nothing more than a game, recover from a quick romp and go on to another.

That’s what he liked about her being a virgin. Right? Right?

Somehow, his own pep talk wasn’t convincing him at all.

But the lights along the length of the drive were shining in the windows, the evening was fading into night, and they had a job to do.

The manuscript. They needed that manuscript.

Focus, Aaron.

Somehow, he needed to forget the demands of his libido and concentrate on a prophecy that would save his life, and hers, and maybe every one of the Chosen.

“Come on, darling, let’s help you up.” With his hands under her arms, he slid Rosamund into the seated position. “That wasn’t the best way to end lovemaking, was it?” He found her tiny excuse for a pair of panties on the floor and slid them up her legs, trying desperately to ignore the garter belt and the scent of champagne and willing woman that wafted to his nose. “Lift up so we can put these on.”

She pressed herself more firmly into the seat and whispered, “I’m . . . wet.”

Well, of course she was. He’d been using champagne on her and she’d been coming into his mouth. . . .

No! Don’t think of that.

Because if he did, when Claude opened the door, Aaron would be on her and in her, and wouldn’t give a damn who saw his bare butt pumping away. . . .

“Is there a napkin or something I could use to . . . ?” She looked so humiliated he had to kiss her again. Just a quick, soft kiss to her lips.

Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he pressed it between her legs.

Her swift intake of breath told him she hadn’t quite finished her climax, and he was torn between regret and triumph. Regret that she would be

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