The Beast’s Ball (The Bluestocking War) by Eva Devon & Maire Claremont

Author:Eva Devon & Maire Claremont [Devon, Eva & Claremont, Maire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Romance
Publisher: Bard Productions
Published: 2022-12-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 14

For the first time that he could recall in years, he awoke feeling himself.

He forgot that he had lived in hiding.

He forgot that he kept everyone away.

And he simply held a woman in his arms.

But she was not any woman. She was Rosalind.

Her naked body was pressed to his clothed one, and the feel of his shirt resting against her naked back was what brought him to reality. He would never be like other men. He would never lie skin to skin with her.

He would never wrap his naked arms about her, but he would allow himself to have this moment. He pressed his face, his masked face, into her hair. He drank in the scent of the soap that she had used to clean those locks, and he savored it. Transported by the nearness of her, he let himself give into it. Och, she was heaven. He loved being beside her in the great bed.

Dawn light spilled in through the glass window panes, tracing over the dark hardwood floor that had been stepped on by a multitude over hundreds of years. It tumbled over the dark wine-colored rug and splayed over the bed counterpane. It was time to arise. It was time to keep going. But he wanted this moment, this perfect moment, to stretch out for eternity, for it was as near perfect as he could recall. She stretched beside him.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” he replied.

She began to twist towards him, and he quickly made certain that his mask was not askew. She rolled over in his arms, studying his face, and she smiled at him, not shyly but impishly.

“What a remarkable night,” she said.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he replied, stunned at how much her words meant to him.

“Did you?” she queried.

“Can you dare ask, lass?”

Her eyes danced as she propped her head upon her palm. “Indeed, I do.”

“I’ve experienced nothing like it, if I’m honest.”

“Then we form a mutual society of admiration?” she said, laughing. “For I had no idea that I could feel thus… Or so at one with anyone.”

At one. He was shocked she’d say it. But he couldn’t deny it, though he did not wish to linger on the potential implications of such a comment.

“I think life needs more admiration,” he said simply, unable to reply with any deep meaning.

“As do I,” she agreed quickly. “And we are to do this often.”

“Aye” he replied, stroking a lock of hair away from her eyes.

“Until we get an heir?” she said, her gaze searching over his mask as if she could discern something there.

“Yes,” he said simply.

She gave a tight nod, but her face grew suddenly serious.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What if we wish to do it because we enjoy it?” she whispered. “What happens when we have an heir and a spare, as you say. Shall we stop?”

He stared down at her, his guts tightening at the idea of her out of his arms, out of his bed. “I did not think you would wish to continue with me,” he said.

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