The Swordmaster's Mistress: Dangerous Deceptions Book Two by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen [Allen, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hilton & Haystaff
Published: 2017-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

Just what have you done? Jared’s conscience enquired acidly as he pulled off his boots again and set rapier and knife within reach. He left the door onto the parlour open. He could see Guinevere’s door from the bed, hear anything that happened. The instinct to lie across the threshold was a complete over-reaction.

He stripped naked and sponged himself down in the cold water from the ewer, grateful for the shock of the chill on overheated skin. He scrubbed away the sweat of exercise and the musk of their loving and winced at the rasp of stubble on his face. It had not occurred to him to shave before he began to exercise. Yet Guinevere had not complained, nor had she shrunk from him, even though it was obvious that such intimacies were new to her.

That selfish pig of a husband had clearly thought nothing of her pleasure, only his own. Had she even experienced an orgasm before? The warmth of the thought that he might have given her the first lasted only as long as it took him to get himself dry. He had no business making love to her. Leaving aside the fact that he was in no position to offer anything to a lady of breeding beside an affaire, Guinevere was not the kind of sophisticated, worldly widow who would flit happily from one short-lived liaison to another.

Jared pulled on his breeches again and lay down on top of the blankets, made himself relax. He could still smell the glorious scent of aroused woman. His hair, he supposed. In the morning he would stick his head under the pump in the yard, scrub it clean, braid his hair penitentially tight to remind himself that this was his first independent commission and he had already broken one of the major rules he had set himself – do not get emotionally involved with clients.

Guinevere seemed to like his hair loose… but not as much as he liked the thought of hers unbound, tumbling about her shoulders. Stop it, he snarled at his own imagination. Just… stop it.

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