Читать книгу Bride for a Knight - Margaret Moore - Страница 3

A fierce hunger that was more than lust seized him as his bride walked towards him with slow, deliberate steps, her head high, a smile on her luscious lips, her shining bright blue eyes holding his.

Roland scarcely breathed throughout the entire ceremony—until the priest spoke of sealing their vows, then looked at him expectantly.

The kiss.

He took Mavis in his arms and kissed her to show them all—including Mavis—that he knew how to love a woman. She slid her arms around him and parted her lips. Thrilled, excited, he forgot everything except her. When he drew back he saw that although Mavis blushed with suitable maidenly modesty a little smile played about her lips. It made him wish they could be alone.

And in the bridal bed.