Читать книгу Lady Isobel's Champion - Carol Townend - Страница 2

How could he?

For years Isobel had lived for some sign of attention from this man. Any sign would have done—a letter sent to the convent in Conques, perhaps… even a simple message. He had done nothing.

And now he had the impudence to wait until they were in a smoky inn to kiss her. In a whorehouse, to be precise. He was kissing her as a pretence, the devil. He didn’t want her. Her pulse thudded. She liked his kiss.

When a large hand crept to her cheek, cradling it in its palm, making tiny caressing circles with its fingertips, pleasure shot along every nerve. She bit back a moan. It was fortunate that his hand hid her face from onlookers. She felt hot and confused. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t know me. In the years she had lived in the south he had not shown the slightest interest in her welfare. I am just another trophy to him. I am a prize. Lucien is marrying me for my inheritance.

And then his mouth was on hers again and her thoughts were scattered.