Read Scandal By The Ton Page 14


  Nicholas was stunned by her raw sensuality. This was the way he wanted her every night for the rest of their lives, writhing and frenzied beneath him. When he felt her final pulsation, he allowed himself to spend. Then he clasped her tightly in his arms and his lips feathered kisses across the damp tendrils on her brow.

  Julia's body curved into his. She lay enthralled at the transcendence of crossing each other's boundaries and becoming one. They clung together in the warm nest they had thrashed out in the big bed, both savoring this precious time together, naked in their own private world where no other could intrude. She smiled her secret smile as she listened to his wildly beating heart and knew she would never be the same again.

  They touched, and kissed, and whispered for hours, sharing secrets, and hopes and dreams. Just before Julia fell asleep in her husband's arms she murmured, "I'm so glad I married you, Nicholas."

  "And why is that, my own sweetheart?"

  "Because you will teach me to become a woman of passion."

  Epilogue

  December 23, 1800

  Curzon Street, London

  "Everything is packed and ready for Hertfordshire. I'm truly looking forward to spending our first Christmas there." Julia sat perched on the side of the bed in a diaphanous night gown. "Hurry and come to bed, Nicholas. You know how I hate the cold."

  "I have a gift for you." Nick grinned and brought the big box to the bed. "Open it."

  "But it's not Christmas yet," Julia protested.

  "This isn't a Christmas gift, it's an anniversary present. We've been married four months today."

  "Then I shall open it immediately. You are such a romantic at heart."

  Julia undid the ribbon, tore off the wrapping, and lifted the lid from the box. "Furs!" She lifted out the luxurious sable cape and its matching muff. "Thank you. They are absolutely beautiful."

  Nicholas picked up the cape and draped it about her shoulders. "I have to confess that it's a self-serving gift. I bought you furs to fulfill one of my erotic fantasies."

  Julia rolled her eyes. "I love fantasies, especially erotic ones. Tell me about it."

  "Remember the day we went fishing, and your petticoat got soaking wet?"

  "How could I forget? That was the first time your wicked fingers removed my stockings."

  "You were sitting in the sun to dry your petticoat, and you said, I love the summer. I always feel so cold in the wintertime. That was the moment I decided that someday I would wrap you in furs and roll you in the snow."

  Julia laughed and raised her mouth to his. "It's been snowing for days. When we get to Hertfordshire tomorrow, I promise to let you fulfill your fantasy. How would you like me to be naked beneath the furs?"

  He rolled her onto the bed. "We are mismatched. I am a romantic at heart, and you are a bloody wanton."

  "Admit the truth and shame the Devil. You wouldn't want me any other way."

  He took possession of her mouth and kissed her deeply.

  "I have a gift for you," she whispered. "I was going to keep it until Christmas, but our anniversary would be more fitting." She brushed back the dark hair from his brow and looked into his eyes. "Nick Royston, you are going to be a father."

  His eyes widened with joy. He plucked her from the bed and swung her about. "I didn't think it was possible to love you more, but once again you have proven me wrong." He lifted her into bed, threw off his robe, climbed in beside her, and took her into his arms.

  Julia began to laugh until her breasts rose and fell against his chest.

  "What the devil is so amusing?"

  "I was just thinking about Mother's reaction. She'll have a bloody fit when she finds out she's old enough to be a grandmother!"

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  Here's an excerpt from my plantation novel Master of Paradise:

  He had waited so long, four years to be exact, but now the waiting was no more. He reached across the bed and gathered her close against his powerful body. She came eagerly. The privacy of the big bed formed a delicious cocoon about them, shutting out the world and everyone in it, save this pair who were about to make love.

  He slipped the thin gown off her shoulders and down her body, his mouth following its descent until he tasted the luscious breasts, all velvet cream and rosy pink in their swelling perfection. Her silken thighs opened willingly to his hands as they explored the secret valley, and his shaft throbbed with the pent-up torture of the long denial.

  She was trembling beneath him. Small incoherent cries filled his ears and his nostrils flared with the intoxicating scent of her. She reached her mouth up to his in a slow, soft kiss that began with a rich warmth, then rapidly changed to a burning, fiery blaze that threatened to consume them in its intensity. Poised above her, his hands shook as they caressed the soft curves, now quivering with anticipation that matched the passion he felt. His voice was hoarse with his desire as he whispered love words against her ear. He could wait no longer; if he did, he would die with agony.

  Suddenly he felt a shimmering, dissolving, as she moved away from him, out of his reach.

  "No!" he cried sharply. His vision was clouded by a dark veil, then it brightened to a red mist. The mist thinned and separated and he shot up from the pillows, fully awake, as the dream dissolved and evaporated like mist on a summer morn.

  He took a great gulp of air and tore the clinging bed sheet from his naked torso. As the morning air cooled the powerful throbbing of his body, he stretched his arms beneath his head and let out a long, slow breath. He gazed up at the ceiling where the morning light sketched a pattern of dappled sunshine and realized that this was his wedding day.

  As every bridegroom since the beginning of time, he experienced one moment of doubt. He crushed it instantly. He was doing the right thing. He had made the right choice. He would be master of his own fate unless the gods were laughing at him; playing with him. This day would culminate a four-year period that had changed his world, his life totally. When had it begun? When had the Fates stepped in to alter the course of his life? Four years were swept aside like four seconds, as his mind winged back to that blazing October afternoon in 1856...

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  Table of Contents

  copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

 


 

  Virginia Henley, Scandal By The Ton

 


 

 
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