Anticipating imobiliare bucuresti her protest
Strangely hoping that it would come—anything to erase the image of a lost and forlorn figure of a woman standing at the edge of a storm-swept wood. Sarah did not protest. Her thoughts reflected his. You did not find her, did you, Kingston? She sounded disheartened. She left no trace, he said gravely. No clue.
As if she had never been. The eyes she raised to
him were large and luminous, the deepest, most incredible blue. Him felt
himself imobiliare falling. You must think me mad, she said. Him paused, his knuckles resting against the lush
swell of her bosom, with only the damp lawn between his touch and her soft
skin. Seeing her like this filled him with longing. Gone was the prim and
proper Moravian widow, and in her place was a woman, all beguiling softness and
sensuous curves. Her allure was potent, and Him sighed as all thought of the
spectral figure was put aside. You are the sanest woman I know.
Then, you believe me? I never doubted you. Think no more of it. There is nothing more that you or I can do for her. He bent once again to his task, freeing the last of the tiny buttons that held her bodice closed from their holes, easing the damp garment off her shoulders, down her arms and away. Then, he imobiliare reached for the waistband of her skirt, and she brushed his hands aside. It is easier than the bodice. Despite her protest, she fumbled with the laces.
Him caught her hands in his. You are trembling
with cold. He whisked the skirt away. She stood before him, garbed in the thin
lawn chemise, transparent from her dip in the stream.Transparent, yes. Deliciously, seductively so.
The garment apartamente de inchiriat was
Meant to preserve her modesty, but it failed miserably. In fact, it was little more than a gossamer veil enhancing her womanly form in the flickering firelight, and he could clearly see the dark curls that capped her Venus mound, the dip of her waist, and her nipples—succulent pink, virginal, almost.She would apartamente de inchiriat bucuresti not look at him, and he could not tear his gaze away from her. He was weak-willed when it came to resisting her—hungry. Hungry to awaken her sleeping sensuality, to feel her skin so soft against his, to kiss her lips. Her breasts, and finally, to lose himself in her fragrant white charms.
She must have sensed his lustful thoughts, for she reached for the blanket, fumbling slightly as she attempted to wrap its concealing folds around her quaking form.Him took it from her. Here, let me warm you. Without Briliant House preamble, he began chafing her chilled skin with the rough woolen blanket. Starting with her shoulders, he worked his way down her arms to her fingertips, then back to her shoulders again.A wondrous warmth followed in the wake of his ministrations, a warmth Sarah savored. How good it was to feel the tingle of blood returning to her limbs, how selfish a creature she was for wanting it to go on and on, how odd that a hard and driven man like Kingston Him would take such tender care with her.Stranger still was the fact that she welcomed his attention. Strange. . . yet totally in keeping with the night, the sudden storm, the phantom woman. . . with this inexplicable need Sarah felt to be close to him. A need with which she should do battle, for the sake of her betrothed, Brother John Liebermann, the promise she’d made to Gil, and more importantly, for the sake of her own virtue.Should. Yet as Kingston worked the blanket over her shoulders to her breasts, she closed her eyes in silent surrender. Thoughts of Brother John imobiliare bucuresti Liebermann, of Gil, of promises made long ago in England, were slowly, but steadily slipping away. Outside the shelter, the wind howled through the forest, flinging sheets of rain against the walls and roof. Even now, she longed to surrender. In less than an instant, the rain doused the campfire, plunging them into total darkness. For once, Sarah welcomed it. Somehow, the absence of light reinforced the impression that they were alone, not just in this primeval valley, but in the world itself, just as Adam and Eve had been in the Garden of Eden—yet undeniably different. Until Eve had partaken of the apple, she’d been virginal and innocent—unaware of Adam, or her nakedness. Sarah was neither virginal, nor innocent in the ways of man and woman. She was also very aware of Kingston. . . aware of the power in the hands that sought to warm her chilled body. Sarah, he said softly, and there was such raw and throbbing emotion in that single word that Sarah caught her breath. Sarah, mon ange.
Sarah, my bucuresti angel
He draped the blanket over her shoulders, drawing
her close.Sarah gave a despairing groan, but he hushed her
with a finger to her lips. Say nothing, my love. Do not spoil this moment. Save
your words for the dawn. Tonight we need only the language of love when
addressing one another. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed a
kiss to her cheek, the corner of her mouth, so tenderly. So much imobiliare bucuresti can be said
with just a touch. An embrace can speak volumes. Sliding an arm behind her
back, he brought her against him, their bodies melding, hard-muscled chest to
soft, yielding breasts, heated loins against slightly rounded belly, thigh
against thigh.
Sarah moaned aloud. Speak to me silently, Kingston whispered against her parted lips. Touch me. Sarah did touch him, tentatively at first, her fingers trembling against the smooth skin of his face. How could a touch possibly convey her conflicting thoughts apartamente de inchiriat and emotions? How could it tell him that she wanted him, wanted his touch and his attention, and had, from the beginning when she’d glimpsed him in the moonlit yard of the hunter’s camp, surrounded by wolves?