Grey’s Lady
By Natasha Blackthorne
Book one in the Carte Blanche Series
Seeking sexual excitement and conquest, poor but beautiful Beth seduces wealthy merchant prince Grey Sexton, only to find herself the pursued as he seeks to own her body and soul.
Seeking sexual excitement and conquest, poor but beautiful Beth seduces wealthy merchant prince Grey Sexton, only to find herself the pursued as he seeks to own her body and soul.
In Philadelphia, PA 1812
Flouting the moral standards of Jeffersonian America, temptress Beth McConnell lets no man touch her heart. Her motto is love them once and leave them burning.
But when she boldly seduces Grey Sexton, a self-controlled merchant prince from New York, she finds herself too fascinated by his ice-over-fire nature to stay away. His possessive determination to own her, body and soul, threatens to expose her secret erotic life to public shame.
But Beth will only surrender her love to a man she can trust. And Grey's materialistic approach to relationships leaves her little reason to believe he can ever give her what she truly needs.
For these two cynical yet lonely people, can deep sexual intimacy work a miracle and lead to the opening of their hearts?
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Copyright © Natasha Blackthorn, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.
If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Copyright © Natasha Blackthorn, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.
Excerpt From: Grey's Lady
Philadelphia, PA
Springtime 1812
The sound of boots stopped and her mouth dried. A tingling rush swept through her stomach, but whether from anxiety or anticipation, she didn’t know. She turned and saw the tall, dark shadow looming over her. Cool air rushed over her sweat-damp face as her black widow’s veil was lifted away, leaving a delicious sort of weakness in its wake. Grey’s eyes were luminous silver, reflecting the starlight of her dreams and taking her breath away.
The scent of his shaving soap, a nuanced blend of citrus and spice with an underlying note of musk, mingled with that of crisp, fresh linen. The scent evoked a sense of solace, as if she’d been living for nothing else since they’d parted. As if there were some kind of magical security to be found with him alone.
Yet she knew so little about him, except that he was leagues above her. She let her gaze roam over his tall, hard-muscled body. His cravat glowed blindingly white against the dark blue of his jacket, so stiffly starched, so perfectly tied it appeared carved from marble. The thrust of his clean-shaven jaw seemed almost ruthlessly arrogant. Heavens, he exuded wealth and power and privilege from every pore. And he consorted with those hollow souls in the dining hall. Was his just as hollow?
She felt as though she were Pandora with her hand on the lid of the box. Once again, her hands twitched to pick up her skirts and her feet burnt to run.
"Thank God it’s you, else I expect I’d have had my face soundly slapped by now." His deep voice resonated in her belly.
Neither of them laughed. The tension, sharp like a knife’s tip held at her throat, rendered her speechless.
"I am sorry they directed you to the dining hall. Most indelicate. Someone should have come and fetched me instead."
Inwardly, she shuddered at the memory of so many curious male eyes upon her veiled person. "It’s no matter now."
"Are you hungry?" he asked, his tone front-parlour-polite.
"No." She couldn’t possibly eat. She’d been pent up with desire like a caged cat for two weeks. Now, so close to being beneath him again, she could barely keep herself from swooning from the excitement.
"You know, for a moment there, I thought you were about to bolt."
"No, never."
"That’s a relief." He laughed without smiling and pressed something into her hand—a key. He whispered his room number. "Go up. I’ll follow shortly."
"I haven’t much time."
"Very shortly." The edgy promise in his voice sent a bolt of desire twisting through her belly. Her knees melted to jelly and she wobbled.
"Careful." His strong hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her, his face showing none of the emotion pounding through her own body. How could he remain so unaffected?
Impulse seized her and she caught hold of his lapels. "Kiss me."
He leaned closer. Heavens, anyone could come along and catch them. Oh the risk… But her breath quickened and her nipples stiffened, straining against her stays. She closed her eyes, tilted her head up.
Waited.
And waited.
"How many men since me?" He laid his large hand at the base of her throat and a thrill went chasing through her. "Look me in the eye."
Her lids fluttered open and his gaze pierced into her with such intensity she gasped. "It has only been two weeks."
"Answer me, Beth."
Another thrill trembled through her. Fear or anticipation? She couldn’t say. "None."
Still holding her throat, he studied her for several long moments. She set her jaw, refusing to waver under his scrutiny.
He bent and his mouth pressed hers, hard and hasty. Passion spiralled, took her soaring to the stars. Lassitude weakened her and wetness seeped between her legs. He lifted his head. She tightened her hands on his lapels, trying to pull him back. He resisted, his eyes trained on her like a stag with a doe.
Kiss me. Just kiss me, you arrogant jackanapes.
Kiss me. Just kiss me, you arrogant jackanapes.
"Now, go." He released her, set her veil back in place and left her there.
~~~~~~~~~
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