Read Online Miami Days and Truscan by Gail Roughton - Free Book Online Page B

he was exhausted. It made little difference, I supposed. And the bed was Truscan king size, which meant it was bigger than any king size bed I’d ever encountered in Florida.
    I got in and pulled the covers over me. I’d expected to lie awake for a long time, but I didn’t. Through the thick stone walls of the Rata, I heard the faint sound of on-going merry making in the great hall, and beside me I heard the steady, even breathing of the man I’d first seen five days ago and had now, all unknowingly, pledged my life to. I slept.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The first thing that filtered into my consciousness when I began to rouse the next morning was the warmth. Truscan nights, like desert nights, carried a considerable chill, and I had awakened, on every previous morning, clutching the fur bed coverings close. But this morning I seemed engulfed in warmth, and the fur coverlets seemed wrapped more tightly around me. I was only in a semi-wakeful state and began to slide back into sleep. That was when I felt the covers slide down from my shoulders, and felt the hand which eased the nightgown off my breast. It certainly didn’t have far to go, and I surged awake with a gasp, but not soon enough. His mouth covered me, his tongue flicking, it must be admitted, deliciously. He suckled gently, and my body involuntarily caught fire as he nursed. He had, with unerring instinct, hit immediately on the surest, quickest way to arouse me.
    Infuriated at both his actions and at my response to them, I pushed against his shoulder, which only increased the pressure of his mouth.
    “Liar! You said you wouldn’t force me, you said you’d give me time!”
    I heard a small and muffled chuckle, and then he raised his head.
    “I’m not forcing you and I am giving you time. But I never said I intended to sit back and just wait , did I?”
    “Move!” I ordered, pushing harder.
    He did turn me loose, but he laughed again, which infuriated me further.
    “Tess, Tess! You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, you did.”
    “I don’t consider twelve hours to be very much time!”
    “Enough time to revive me, certainly. Come, Green Eyes. We’ve already established that I’m your only option in this world. And a few seconds ago, we established that you do, indeed, appreciate what a man’s mouth can do.”
    He reached over and pulled me back against him. I felt his hardness against my buttocks. The king of Trusca was indeed revived.
    “And I’m sure you also appreciate what other parts of a man can do. So why put us through the time it’ll take to smooth your wounded pride?”
    “Because it’s my pride that’s wounded! Now get away from me!” I exclaimed and heard the knock on the door with some relief.
    He swore under his breath, but he didn’t turn me loose and called for entrance. Appearances, after all, were most important. The three chamber maids, led by Saraya, didn’t miss a detail, I was sure, down to the fact that my right breast was uncovered, and I jerked my hand up. Before it reached the material, however, his own hand came up and casually covered me; the monarch claiming his own, which further infuriated me.
    He spoke quickly, in Truscan, and his words produced a quick response from the servants, who moved rapidly and set a large tray of some silver-like material down on the table where reposed the equivalent of his bar. Hot water steamed as they filled the two basins which stood in the corner of the room, and fresh clothing was draped over the chairs. The girls left within five minutes, and he made to throw the covers back. I turned on my side, away from him. Modesty wasn’t an issue; it was the principle of the thing. He laughed, and I heard the rustle of fabric.
    “I’m in my robe,” he advised. “You’re safe. More or less. “
    “What I’m wearing doesn’t make me feel particularly safe.”
    He walked around to my side of the bed and tossed my white chamber robe over the covers.
    “Will this