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Copyright © Natasha Blackthorne, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.
Reader Advisory: Grey's Lady is Erotic Romance and it contains graphic language and descriptions.
Excerpt from Grey's Lady, Carte Blanche Series Book One
Beth sat in the farthest corner of the carriage and cast a sideways glance at her dark-haired stranger. The angular cut of his cheekbones and strong, imperious jaw gave him an air of granite-hewn arrogance.
His pale grey eyes cut into her. Hidden behind her worldly-woman smile, her heart fluttered. As if she’d just experienced her first true kiss. As if she’d been truly touched for the first time.
The horses’ hooves. The rain beating on the roof. The distant thunder. The rustle of her skirts as she drew her legs up underneath her. All of them sounded unnaturally loud.
She felt raw, exposed, bleeding.
And she had no one else to blame but herself.
She’d gone to the lecture to meet him. He was an excellent conquest. Blue-blooded, obscenely wealthy, the owner of Sexton Shipping, politically connected and powerful. Once, when she’d been too young to know better, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by a wealthy gentleman. He had promised eternal love, then abandoned her. A bitter lesson but one she’d learnt well. Now she was the seducer. She was very particular, choosing the handsomest and wealthiest of men. To know she could tempt any man of her choosing, even dressed in her shabby clothes, added a perverse thrill, made her dizzy with power. Conquest and control often proved a headier thrill than love.
Then, too, there was the erotic pleasure. She’d always been weak to her sensual drives. Her mother’s wild blood, some would say.
But today it had not been only Sexton’s wealth or handsomeness that had drawn her. It had been the way his frosty eyes had cut into her, stripping her bare of all her secrets. And how they had warmed to silver, shining with such empathy. It was as if he knew her, as if he could see all her faults, all her weak longings and petty spites. Even the tears she shed at midnight, silently into her pillow. And he didn’t judge her for any of it. After that moment of rare soul-to-soul connection, she had to know him. And that had been the problem.
Of course, he had succumbed. Men always did. But today had been different. Her need to experience him gave him a power over her that made her throat go dry and her palms slick. It was time to part ways. She always cut the strings after one encounter. Always left them wanting. It made the conquest all the sweeter.
She flicked the curtain open and gazed out, trying to determine their location. There was nothing to see but the water and grey, rainy sky. She turned back to the gentleman. "Asahel—"
"Grey." His voice, deep and strong, reverberated in her stomach.
"Grey, I am desperately late getting home."
He reached back and tapped the carriage wall. "You are not so very late. This normally takes longer." He paused and grinned. "A lot longer."
"I think it was more than adequate."
His touch was gentle on her face. "I want to see you again."
Her eyes caressed his broad-shouldered, powerful yet elegant form. Longing tingled through her, so ardent that fear followed close on its heels. Her heart began to pound. She should never have started this.
"You want to see me?" She laughed with affected lightness. "In the parlour, with my sister in attendance? Shall we have tea and biscuits, or do you prefer wine and cakes?"
His eyes darkened and the tanned skin tightened over his cheekbones. "You want bluntness? All right. I want to fuck you again."
"It is very hard for me to get away."
"You must." He moved closer, a lock of coal-black hair falling over his brow as he took her hand and pulled it to his lap. His erection felt huge and throbbing beneath the nankeen cloth. Again. Already. She closed her eyes and gripped him as tightly as the fabric would allow, her cunt clenching at the recollection of the mind-drugging effect of his lovemaking. A woman could become a slave to this sort of passion.
"I shall be staying at City Tavern. All month."
His eyes sparkled, making her stomach bottom out.
He described small circles on her palm. "You must come and see me, and soon, too. You must promise—cross your heart." He traced an X across her left breast.
She arched up and put her lips upon his. As she kissed him in a long, leisurely fashion, her hand slid up to his chest to feel his heart racing beneath. And why shouldn’t it? She was very good at goodbyes.
Giveaway: I am offering one free e-copy of Grey's Lady to a commenter chosen at random from all my posts here today. I will draw a winner Monday at 12:01 AM and announce the winner in my first post and also on my blog. You must be 18 years of age or older and have reached the age of majority in the country/state where you live to enter. Void where prohibited by law. Good Luck!
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