To Rescue A Rogue by Jo Beverley

Author:Jo Beverley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2006-09-04T22:00:00+00:00

Dare lay on the narrow bed as Ruyuan pummeled the beast out of his flesh. Overwhelm it. Overwhelm it in body and mind.

Under Ruyuan’s tutelage, as his body had regained its strength, so had his mind, and that was his only true hope. He’d studied addiction and he knew that many won the bitter physical fight but fell back into the pit because they’d neglected their mind and will.

In many ways that had been the harder struggle, because he’d once been physically strong, but he’d never paid attention to the deeper mental strengths.

He appreciated them now, just as he appreciated muscles and sinews that worked well, but he was going to be a strange sort of Englishman at the end of this. Rather like Nicholas, for he suspected he was deeper into these philosophies of mind and body than was obvious.

Each night, Ruyuan tested his will, and for twenty-two nights now he’d had the strength to resist. It had been a close fight tonight.

It had been a bad day in many ways, but heaven and hell combined. Mara had promised herself to him, but she didn’t know what he was. How could she? Her image came from the past, from what he’d been before, like that miniature portrait she’d been admiring on her first night here.

She didn’t know the addict who acted out his days and dragged himself through the night in a war it seemed he could only ever survive, never win. She didn’t see him shake and sweat not to grab the relief Ruyuan offered. Or the times he’d broken and taken it.

He carried Mara’s brooch, her favor, in his pocket at all times, and it gave him strength. He would become worthy of her. He must, for she was a devil-haired St. Bride and she’d persist in loving him.

Please God let that be so, but he must be worthy. He must never defile that trust.

The massage gentled and the music started, the Oriental flute that swooped and flew in ways so different to Western music. He wasn’t sure he liked it as music, for it often seemed infinitely sorrowful, but it soothed his tormented mind.

Tonight, it made him weep.

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