The Devil's Mistress: A Regency Romance by Wren St Claire

Author:Wren St Claire [St Claire, Wren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780645583960
Publisher: Conxions International Pty Ltd
Published: 2022-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

She woke with a start, as a shaft of sunlight fell on her face from between the curtains. She sat up on one elbow, looking at the man beside her. His body was warm and hers was cold and stiff. The temptation to crawl under the covers with him was strong. She lay a moment, allowing herself the luxury of a little fantasy, her body flushing slowly with warmth at the thought of sharing his bed. She was shocked at herself and exhilarated at the same time. Her body coiled with heat and tension. She let out a silent breath, trying to relieve the feeling.

He was sleeping heavily, and she sat up gingerly trying not to disturb him. She had just eased her feet to the ground when his eyes opened, and he blinked at her. He murmured, “I dreamed of an angel with green eyes in the snow and there you are.” His eyes closed again, and she got up letting her breath go.

She went to find Bob to come and sit with the patient, while she sought her own room and some equilibrium. If anyone were to know that she had spent the night in his Lordships room, her reputation would be entirely ruined. She stared at herself in the mirror and grinned with idiotic delight. Who was she fooling? She was ruined already. It was absurd really, Stanton was in no state to take advantage of her, no matter how much she might wish he would. She blushed and turning away from the mirror began to strip, giving herself a Spartan cold flannel wash. Shivering she redressed and went downstairs to find some breakfast. After a solid meal she went back upstairs to check on the patient. Finding him still sleeping, she told Bob she was going to sleep herself and to wake her at need. Bob looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes Miss Anne.”

She opened her eyes at him. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing Miss Anne.” He looked back at Stanton. “If he weren’t dead to the world, I’d think otherwise, but it’s obvious he can’t do you no mischief even if he wanted to. But if the Master catches wind o’ it there’ll be hell to pay.”

“You won’t tell him Bob?”

“Course not Miss Anne.” He frowned. “All a same, you be careful Miss, I’d not like to see you hurt.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Bob, I’ll be careful.”

Bob looked rueful and shook his head. “No, you won’t. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

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