The Devilish Montague: The Rebellious Sons by Rice Patricia

Author:Rice, Patricia [Rice, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2011-07-05T04:00:00+00:00

20

Rolling over to trap Jocelyn between his arms, on the brink of finally having his way with his audacious, heaven-sent bride, Blake did his best to shut out the uproar rising from the rest of the house. Her cries of ecstasy still rang satisfyingly in his ears. His cock strained eagerly at his buttons, but even though his mind had sunk to his lower parts, he couldn’t ignore Jocelyn’s inexplicable outburst of tears.

Why was she crying now that he’d given her pleasure? He’d planned this moment with as much care as was possible, given his state of mindless lust.

Uproar. In an empty house. Some of the blood returned to the thinking part of his brain. Uproar had yet to equate with danger, not in rural Chelsea. Befuddlement slowed his reactions.

Fists beat against the bedroom door. A parrot shrieked from a distance. A dog yipped in alarm. Glass broke and a maid screamed. A howl of fear accompanied the pounding. Blake wanted to beat something, too, but the only object within reach was his beautiful sobbing bride. Nearly nude and within a hand’s reach of being ravished . . .

Her tears finally unmanned him. Stunned, he didn’t know how to respond to this display of feminine weakness, except to murder whatever had caused her grief. Surely he hadn’t . . . ?

Before his wits could completely relocate from lower parts to his head, Jocelyn brushed at her eyes and recovered her aplomb with remarkable rapidity, as if she had practice in controlling bouts of weeping. “I believe you will have to get up now, sir.”

“Can’t,” he muttered, inches from the swirling champagne tresses he’d loosed and had meant to have brushing his skin in another moment or two. Leaning over her, with both hands trapping her on the bed, he listened to judge whether the knocking indicated reason for alarm, but in his bones, he knew who it was. The rest of the cacophony raised his hackles, though. “Give me a few minutes. What’s that racket?”

“Percy?” she asked hesitantly.

Blake frowned. Percy did seem to be squawking more than usual. The door began to rattle in the frame. Damned good thing he’d locked it.

“That’s not Percy at the door,” he argued.

“Ummm, that might be Percy’s keeper. If you would move just slightly to your left . . .” She wiggled under him, trying to escape.

She was nearly naked. He wasn’t close enough for skin contact. He wanted to keep stripping.

The chaos below did not diminish. In fact, the dog howled as if it were being beaten.

“Close your ears. I’m about to swear.” Cursing under his breath while Jocelyn stuck her fingers in her ears, Blake shoved up from the bed.

As soon as he started dragging on his waistcoat, Jocelyn sat up and began fastening her fallen chemise with shaking fingers.

Another crash of breaking glass cut off any protest he might make. With shirt gaping, Blake opened the door and caught sight of a skinny back and mop of hair racing down the service stairs, toward the back of the house.

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