Her Protector's Pleasure by Grace Callaway

Author:Grace Callaway
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

Ambrose cradled his lover close in the bed, stroking her hair as she slept. Her breathing had the deep, even quality of a babe's. His arms tightened protectively around her, his chest aching with the knowledge that the woman dozing in his arms had suffered entirely too much.

Marianne has a daughter.

She'd guarded her secret well. From this, he surmised that her little girl had not been the product of her union with the much older Lord Draven. Had Marianne had an extramarital affair? The knot in Ambrose's chest tightened as he recalled her anguished words.

I want my Rosie back.

What kind of blackguard would be so cruel as to separate mother and daughter?

Long silken locks slid against his arm, and Marianne's thick lashes fluttered as she came awake. Her gaze wandered about the room, the drowsy quality fleeing when it encountered him. Her lips parted; roses bloomed in her cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" he said tenderly.

He knew the moment everything returned to her. Her body tensed against his, panic darkening her eyes. She struggled to get up, to flee; he kept her in place by rolling atop her, taking care to leverage his weight on his arms.

"Don't go," he said quietly. "Not yet. Talk to me, sweetheart."

"I've already said too much." Her voice was thick, her breathing quick and fitful as she shoved at his shoulders. "Let me go."

"Not until you tell me about your daughter."

Her tresses spilled across the pillow as she shook her head vehemently. "You don't know what you're asking. Please, just get off of me …"

"You've been carrying this on your own for too long. You need to share your secrets with me." He saw his words hit their mark. She bit down on her trembling lower lip, her chin wobbling. "You know I'll help you, Marianne. Once you tell me everything."

Her chest rose and fell in labored surges. Her eyes slid away. "Let me up first," she said in a small voice. He did, and she sat up, her arms circling her raised knees. With her hair tumbling down her back, she looked young, so very vulnerable. "I—I don't know how to begin."

"Start from the beginning. Who is Rosie's father?" he said gently.

She kept her gaze focused on the coverlet. "A young lad I fancied myself in love with. I'd known him for years, and the summer I turned seventeen, we … acted on our feelings. He and I had planned to marry. But he died." She sighed. "In a carriage accident. Leaving me heartbroken and in an unfortunate condition."

Ambrose's heart squeezed for the girl's pain. Yet he knew the woman well enough to keep any pity from his voice. "Did you have anyone to turn to?" he asked.

"There was no one. Mama died shortly after I was born, and Papa …" She laughed, a scornful sound. "The squire had more interest in cards and horses than his daughter. Out of desperation, I told him about my pregnancy, and he threatened to disown me. To throw

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