|
And now, exclusively for my
newsletter subscribers, here's a peek at a scene from
PLEASURING
THE PIRATE!
Jacquelyn Wren has been schooling Gabriel Drake in the proper way to woo a lady.
Now he's about to give her a lesson in swordplay with a wager on the outcome she
suspects will have her giving ground.
She growled low in the back of her
throat and lunged. He parried her thrust and danced back a step.
“Tsk, Mistress. You’re rushing your
fences again. Much as there is to commend unbridled passion, there’s more to be
said for control.” He loosed a string of light blows that had her giving ground,
though she turned his blade each time.
She drew a deep breath and returned
his assault in a more measured and effective way.
“Much better,” he said with a smug
grin. “I’m delighted to find you so apt a pupil.”
“Perhaps it is you who will be
schooled, my lord,” she said with a deft flick of her blade that he barely
managed to meet. “What is your wager?”
“First touch on the torso wins. If I
manage to penetrate your defenses, all I demand is the truthful answer to one
question,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
Something about the way he said ‘penetrate your defenses’ made all sorts of
unsuitable images spring to her mind. The kind of images that tingled her
nipples. “And what might that question be?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” His
sinful smile would have tempted a saint. “Not knowing is part of the wager. Do
you accept?”
She nodded warily. “And if I win?”
“What do you want most?” his silky
baritone rumbled through her.
You, a dark part of her being
clamored. His black eyes sent forbidden thoughts rushing through her brainpan
and heat flared in her belly. An image burned across her vision . . . of the
unpredictable, utterly male Lord Drake pressing her against the ancient stone
walls . . . with her skirt hiked to her waist. She shook off her inner wanton
and forced a scowl. Of the all men in the world for her to lose her battle with
lust over, why must it be this bloody pirate?
“If I win,” she said, schooling her
voice into bland evenness, “I want you never to seek private speech with me
again.”
“An acceptable wager. Besides,
speech is highly over-rated,” Gabriel said. “There are plenty of things we can
do with each other that don’t involve talking at all.”
“You are purposely misunderstanding
me,” she accused.
“No, I understand you far better
than you think, Mistress.”
That’s what she feared most.
“In earnest, then.” Gabriel Drake
brought his sword before his face in salute. “Defend yourself, Miss Wren, for
this is a contest I don’t intend to lose."
~~~
Like it?
Buy it!
Have a wonderful summer!
Emily
You are
receiving this email because you registered on my website at
www.dianagroe.com
or
www.emilybryan.com.
The last thing I want to do is add unwanted mail to your inbox. If you received
this newsletter in error, please unsubscribe below. Thanks you!
Unsubscribe
from this list.
Copyright (C) 2008 *|Diana Groe/Emily Bryan|* All rights reserved. |