Read Online SECRETS OF THE WIND by Charlotte Boyett-Compo - Free Book Online
Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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that day. He yelped, grabbing his arm as tears of pain flooded his eyes.
“No one manhandles me, Your Grace,” Chas said between clenched teeth. “No one! Not even you!”
He stared at her, unable to speak as she rose from the water to stand over him. Dripping from head to toe, patches of foamy suds clinging to her lush form, she was an embodiment of the goddess rising from the sea. With her long golden hair curled around her shapely hips, her green eyes flashing, she was a sight to behold.
“I…I’m sorry,” he heard himself say and the words surprised him, for apologies did not come naturally to Gaelachuan men, and especially not to members of the royal family.
She lifted one long, perfectly formed leg and stepped out of the tub, sloshing water on his legs. Standing over him, she locked her stormy gaze with his astonished one.
“If you want to make love to me, you ask and you ask in a gentlemanly fashion. I will not be spoken to like a common tramp, and I detest the word you used to describe the interaction with which you would like to engage my person. Never, e ver use that word to me again. Is that clear?”
He could do no more than nod, for his attention was glued to the triangular patch of crisp golden curls at the juncture of her thighs. Tapered as though it were a silken arrow pointing to that part of her he desired the most, it beckoned him like a siren’s call. He longed to reach out and touch it, but he feared she’d break his hand if he tried.
Though Chas was trembling from head to toe, she refused to allow him to see her condition. She walked elegantly past him, trailing soapsuds as she trod. Her bare feet slapped lightly against the wooden planking as she lifted her dressing gown from a peg and wrapped it around her, belting it about her slender waist.
Ruan managed to push himself up with the elbow of his left arm for he was cradling his right wrist in his left hand. He sat there with his knees raised and gawked at her.
“I want a man who will court me, not rape me,” he heard her say and lifted his gaze to her beautiful face. She was standing there now with her arms at her sides, the lush, round globes of her breasts outlined against the pale green silk. The gown clung to her wet body and the prominence of her nipples made his mouth water. “I may not be of Gaelach royalty as you told the people in the common room but I have pride in myself, Your Grace. I know my own worth.”
He ached to take her into his arms and hold her. He was shivering with the need of it, and the erection that had plagued him for most of the day was back in stony form. His palms itched to touch her. He wanted to kiss her until she swooned into his arms and then he wanted to…
“Perhaps you should leave now, Your Grace,” she recommended. When he hesitated, she reiterated her suggestion.
It was difficult to get to his feet but he was able to do so with only a slight groan. His wrist was throbbing almost as much as his cock, but at least she wasn’t looking at that stalwart soldier waving his bayonet at her. Her scrutiny was fused with his bewildered stare. Though his cheek stung and his tailbone ached from the hard landing he’d taken on it, he felt the pain of his embarrassment more than any other discomfort.
“I had too much to drink,” he said and could have screamed as he staggered like an untried youth.
“Aye, Your Grace, that you did,” she agreed as she walked to the door and opened it.
“Forgive me,” he mumbled as he passed her on his way out.
“I already have, Your Grace. Have someone see to your hand,” she said.
He turned once he gained the corridor and opened his mouth to say something else, but she shut the door in his face.
Ruan stood there and stared at the door as though it were an object he’d never encountered before. No one—not even his virago of a mother—had ever shut a door in his face. No woman had ever turned him down before. So completely beyond his normal experience
“No one manhandles me, Your Grace,” Chas said between clenched teeth. “No one! Not even you!”
He stared at her, unable to speak as she rose from the water to stand over him. Dripping from head to toe, patches of foamy suds clinging to her lush form, she was an embodiment of the goddess rising from the sea. With her long golden hair curled around her shapely hips, her green eyes flashing, she was a sight to behold.
“I…I’m sorry,” he heard himself say and the words surprised him, for apologies did not come naturally to Gaelachuan men, and especially not to members of the royal family.
She lifted one long, perfectly formed leg and stepped out of the tub, sloshing water on his legs. Standing over him, she locked her stormy gaze with his astonished one.
“If you want to make love to me, you ask and you ask in a gentlemanly fashion. I will not be spoken to like a common tramp, and I detest the word you used to describe the interaction with which you would like to engage my person. Never, e ver use that word to me again. Is that clear?”
He could do no more than nod, for his attention was glued to the triangular patch of crisp golden curls at the juncture of her thighs. Tapered as though it were a silken arrow pointing to that part of her he desired the most, it beckoned him like a siren’s call. He longed to reach out and touch it, but he feared she’d break his hand if he tried.
Though Chas was trembling from head to toe, she refused to allow him to see her condition. She walked elegantly past him, trailing soapsuds as she trod. Her bare feet slapped lightly against the wooden planking as she lifted her dressing gown from a peg and wrapped it around her, belting it about her slender waist.
Ruan managed to push himself up with the elbow of his left arm for he was cradling his right wrist in his left hand. He sat there with his knees raised and gawked at her.
“I want a man who will court me, not rape me,” he heard her say and lifted his gaze to her beautiful face. She was standing there now with her arms at her sides, the lush, round globes of her breasts outlined against the pale green silk. The gown clung to her wet body and the prominence of her nipples made his mouth water. “I may not be of Gaelach royalty as you told the people in the common room but I have pride in myself, Your Grace. I know my own worth.”
He ached to take her into his arms and hold her. He was shivering with the need of it, and the erection that had plagued him for most of the day was back in stony form. His palms itched to touch her. He wanted to kiss her until she swooned into his arms and then he wanted to…
“Perhaps you should leave now, Your Grace,” she recommended. When he hesitated, she reiterated her suggestion.
It was difficult to get to his feet but he was able to do so with only a slight groan. His wrist was throbbing almost as much as his cock, but at least she wasn’t looking at that stalwart soldier waving his bayonet at her. Her scrutiny was fused with his bewildered stare. Though his cheek stung and his tailbone ached from the hard landing he’d taken on it, he felt the pain of his embarrassment more than any other discomfort.
“I had too much to drink,” he said and could have screamed as he staggered like an untried youth.
“Aye, Your Grace, that you did,” she agreed as she walked to the door and opened it.
“Forgive me,” he mumbled as he passed her on his way out.
“I already have, Your Grace. Have someone see to your hand,” she said.
He turned once he gained the corridor and opened his mouth to say something else, but she shut the door in his face.
Ruan stood there and stared at the door as though it were an object he’d never encountered before. No one—not even his virago of a mother—had ever shut a door in his face. No woman had ever turned him down before. So completely beyond his normal experience
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