The Boleyn Deceit: A Novel (Ann Boleyn Trilogy) by Andersen Laura

The Boleyn Deceit: A Novel (Ann Boleyn Trilogy) by Andersen Laura

Author:Andersen, Laura [Andersen, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345534125
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2013-11-05T00:00:00+00:00


Dominic resisted sleep for a long time, but he finally fell into fitful dreams. Faces drifted before him, melting into one another: William to Renaud to the Spanish ambassador; Elizabeth to Anne Boleyn to his own mother. And finally, as a reward, Minuette herself. In his dream she was dressed for sleep, the loose gown bewitchingly light and suggestive of her shape beneath. Her hair hung over her shoulders and down her back and felt warm and heavy when he buried his hands in it. She let him pull her to him, and he could feel the outlines of her body pressed against his and the warmth of her breath on his mouth, and then she was kissing him …

He wasn’t dreaming. Long, loose hair hung around his face, a woman next to him in bed, her mouth teasing at his. “Minuette?” he said, disbelieving.

He was right to disbelieve. The woman pulled back, her face illuminated by the moonlight that came through his window. He knew every plane and angle of Minuette’s face and this one was rounder, plumper, and yet familiar. But groggy with sleep and injury-addled, it took him a heartbeat to place her.

Aimée. Who was his mistress for a brief time during the winter of 1553 and had been miffed when she was dismissed. I should beware Aimée, Diane de Poitiers had warned him two weeks ago. She … may wish to redress matters.

So it appeared. Aimée’s smile was hungry with intimacy. Her chemise had slipped off one shoulder, leaving it bare and much more appealing to him than it should be. “All this time wasted, monsieur, but tonight I will have what I want,” she whispered. “Is it not what you want also? I can feel that it is.”

He swallowed, trying to pull together his scattered wits. Did he want her? Undoubtedly. His body had wishes of its own and was presently making them rather strongly known.

But he had never let his body rule him where Minuette was concerned, and he would not start with someone else. He escaped the bed with as much dignity as he could muster naked, and said, “I regret that you have presumed too far.”

She hesitated between coyness and anger. Then, with a shrug, she scrambled off the bed as well. “If you do not want me, then put me out,” she challenged.

She meant it literally. He had to pick up the bed robe she’d discarded and put it around her shoulders. She would not help him at all, only letting her body press back against him as he turned her around. She did not resist, but she did not fight him, either, for which he gave devout thanks. All she’d have to do was scream and a diplomatic incident of catastrophic proportions would erupt.

Only when he’d pushed her out the door and begun to close it did Aimée move. She whirled round and kissed him, so fiercely and thoroughly that desire shot through his hungry body. He would stop her,



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