The Cold Earl's Bride by Audrey Ashwood

Author:Audrey Ashwood [Ashwood, Audrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-01T23:00:00+00:00

ST. John was torn. In his chest raged a storm with a whole array of different emotions whose unaccustomed intensity nagged at him. This was no time to lose one’s head! It was true, he would have liked to put Annabelle off one more time to win time and make a decision in peace, but her gaze, her attitude, her words did not permit another delay. She had been honest with him, as far as he could tell, and deserved his candour. However, the truth about who had sentenced Greywood to death would make her blood run cold. The whole truth surrounding Greywood’s death posed a risk for her safety. The more she knew, the greater the danger she would be in.

He had once failed to protect the woman he loved. He would not tolerate a second time.

Not that I am fond of Annabelle, he reminded himself hastily as she stopped and turned. But as her husband, regardless of whether he had sought the role or not, it was his duty to protect her. Once the affair was settled, there would be plenty of time left to tell her the whole truth about the unfortunate entanglements that had held him prisoner. How her words about the fetters and her analysis of his character had hurt him! He had already known that she was smart, but her skills were, to say the least, astonishing. Her knowledge of the human character, which had taken him years of hard work to obtain and perfect, was innate.

“It is–” he began, but she raised her hand.

“Complicated. You have said that already.” Her green eyes glimmered from unshed tears and suddenly, he could not stand it any longer. The feeling of stifling in the dark, overcrowded room became overpowering. He made his way briskly towards the window, tore open the curtains, and shoved the shutters aside. Air, he needed air to breathe!

He felt, more than heard, his wife stepping beside him. Together, they silently looked out into the street, which was slowly coming to life. He felt the warmth radiating from her body, awaking tantalising thoughts in him. From the corner of his eye, he perceived the mass of her reddish-brown hair that had come loose from the provisory hairstyle and now fell on her shoulders like a river of fire. Her cream-coloured skin smelled seductively of soap, faintly mixed in with her own unmistakeable scent. The soft pink on her cheeks and her chest, rising and falling swiftly beneath the fabric of the gown, betrayed her inner stir. Marcus turned his body towards her. He forgot what he meant to say, because in that moment, Annabelle turned away from the sight of the street below and looked up into his face.

And suddenly, his lips were on hers again. He felt how she caught her breath as if startled. His hands, which just had been casually hanging by his side, developed a mind of their own as they found her waist. She followed the unspoken request, and the barely noticeable squeeze, and snuggled closer to him.

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