The Wyndham Legacy by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Contemporary, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781101214190
Publisher: Jove
Published: 1994-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Oh God, he was regretting all of it now. But she wasn’t a shy tongue-tied maiden to be devastated. She had pride, but still it was difficult to keep her voice steady and calm, but she managed it, saying, “You didn’t mean what to happen? You didn’t want to stay with me?”

He shrugged then, and grabbed up his dressing gown. “Oh, I wanted to stay with you, Duchess, and that was my downfall, but it won’t be again. Next time, I’ll do what I must. Surely this one time won’t matter, surely.”

“What are you talking about, Marcus?”

“You’ll see,” he said, then grinned painfully. “Doubtless you’ll see even before this bloody night is over.”

She’d expected—she didn’t know what she’d expected. Perhaps some new sign of closeness from him, for what he’d made her feel had been more than she could ever have imagined. It had been glorious and beyond wonderful, and she’d been part of him even though he was a man, a being so utterly different from her in thought and strength and body. Unlike her, he hadn’t seemed to care or notice or feel anything other than his man’s release. She could have been Lisette or Celeste or any of the now faceless women who would probably be in his future. She couldn’t bear it. She was nothing to him—a wife, a convenience. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She turned her head away from him.

Marcus stared at her as his heart finally began to slow. He’d never experienced such untidy surges of raw feeling before with any woman in his life. And now with her, the bloodless Duchess, who was cold and contained and frigid and . . . what bloody nonsense. When he’d caressed her with his mouth she’d been more frantic, more uninhibited, than any woman he’d known in his adult life. And when he’d come into her, she’d become frenzied again, pulling him deep, bucking and yelling and it had made him into a savage, grunting over her, wanting to devour her, to absorb her into himself. Fool that he was, he’d been a part of her frenzied pleasure and he’d lost control. By God, he didn’t like that, didn’t like what she’d made him do, didn’t like what she’d made him feel.

He was lying to himself. He’d more than liked what she’d done to him then. But not now, not now that his brain had returned to functioning properly.

He said, as he flicked a fleck of lint from the sleeve of his dressing gown, not looking at her for he was going to lie to her now, not just to himself, “You surprised me, Duchess. You didn’t just lie there and endure me. You didn’t whimper or moan. Well, you moaned, but it was with pleasure not sufferance.”

Actually she’d screamed like the most lascivious woman ever born. She said nothing. She’d pressed her fist into her mouth.

“You were willing. You were more than willing. You appeared to want me more than the most

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