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Diksha
https://www.goodreads.com/schtaronedwards
“One can only hope you feel better than you look,” Amelia said.
“I’ll feel better once I can find some decent refreshment. I’ve asked thrice for wine or spirits, and the servants all seem damnably absentminded.”
She frowned. “Surely it’s too early in the day even for you, Leo.”
He extracted a pocket watch from his waistcoat and squinted at its face. “It’s eight o’clock in Bombay. Being an internationally minded fellow, I’ll have a drink as a diplomatic gesture.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“I’ll feel better once I can find some decent refreshment. I’ve asked thrice for wine or spirits, and the servants all seem damnably absentminded.”
She frowned. “Surely it’s too early in the day even for you, Leo.”
He extracted a pocket watch from his waistcoat and squinted at its face. “It’s eight o’clock in Bombay. Being an internationally minded fellow, I’ll have a drink as a diplomatic gesture.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“I’ve considered everything you said earlier. I’ve made a decision. But first I’d like to explain that it has nothing to do with your personal endowments, which are quite considerable. It’s just that—”
“My personal endowments?”
“Yes. Your intelligence. Your attractiveness.”
“Oh.”
Wondering why his voice sounded odd, Amelia darted a questioning glance at him. The amber eyes were bright with laughter. What had she said to amuse him? “Are you paying attention?”
“Believe me, when my personal endowments are being discussed, I always pay attention. Go on.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“My personal endowments?”
“Yes. Your intelligence. Your attractiveness.”
“Oh.”
Wondering why his voice sounded odd, Amelia darted a questioning glance at him. The amber eyes were bright with laughter. What had she said to amuse him? “Are you paying attention?”
“Believe me, when my personal endowments are being discussed, I always pay attention. Go on.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“There is no greater pain or punishment than memory.”
― Queen Song
― Queen Song
“Cam reached for her left hand. Taking the signet ring between his fingers, he drew it off easily and gave it to her. “Here. Although I’d rather you left it on.”
Amelia’s mouth fell open. She examined her hand, then the ring, and hesitantly pushed it back on the same finger. It slid over her knuckle and back again with ease. “How did you do that?”
“I helped you to relax.” He ran a coaxing hand along her spine. “Put it back on, Amelia.”
“I can’t. That would mean I’ve accepted your proposal, and I haven’t.”
Stretching like a cat, Cam rolled her flat again, his weight partially supported on his elbows. Amelia drew in a quick breath as she felt him still firm within her. “You can’t lie with me twice and then refuse to marry me.” Cam lowered his head to kiss her ear. “I’ll be ruined.” He worked his way to the soft place behind her earlobe. “And I’ll feel so cheap.”
Despite the seriousness of the matter, Amelia had to bite back a smile. “I’m doing you a great favor by refusing you. You’ll thank me for it someday.”
“I’ll thank you right now if you’ll put the damned ring back on.”
She shook her head.
Cam pushed a bit farther inside her, making her gasp. “What about my personal endowments? Who’s going to take care of them?”
“You can take care of them”— she squirmed to the side to set the ring on the bedside table—“ all by yourself.”
Cam moved with her obligingly. “It’s much more satisfying when you’re involved.”
As he reached to retrieve the ring, his body shifted higher in hers. She tensed in surprise. He felt harder inside her, thicker, his desire gaining new momentum. “Cam,” she protested, glancing at the closed door. She grabbed for his wrist, trying to keep his hand away from the ring. He grappled with her playfully, turning until they had completed a full revolution across the mattress and she was under him again.
He was rampantly aroused now, teasing her with slow lunges. Twisting beneath him, Amelia pushed at his dark head as he began to kiss her breasts. “But … we just finished…”
Cam lifted his head. “Roma,” he said, as if by way of explanation, and settled back over her.”
― Mine Till Midnight
Amelia’s mouth fell open. She examined her hand, then the ring, and hesitantly pushed it back on the same finger. It slid over her knuckle and back again with ease. “How did you do that?”
“I helped you to relax.” He ran a coaxing hand along her spine. “Put it back on, Amelia.”
“I can’t. That would mean I’ve accepted your proposal, and I haven’t.”
Stretching like a cat, Cam rolled her flat again, his weight partially supported on his elbows. Amelia drew in a quick breath as she felt him still firm within her. “You can’t lie with me twice and then refuse to marry me.” Cam lowered his head to kiss her ear. “I’ll be ruined.” He worked his way to the soft place behind her earlobe. “And I’ll feel so cheap.”
Despite the seriousness of the matter, Amelia had to bite back a smile. “I’m doing you a great favor by refusing you. You’ll thank me for it someday.”
“I’ll thank you right now if you’ll put the damned ring back on.”
She shook her head.
Cam pushed a bit farther inside her, making her gasp. “What about my personal endowments? Who’s going to take care of them?”
“You can take care of them”— she squirmed to the side to set the ring on the bedside table—“ all by yourself.”
Cam moved with her obligingly. “It’s much more satisfying when you’re involved.”
As he reached to retrieve the ring, his body shifted higher in hers. She tensed in surprise. He felt harder inside her, thicker, his desire gaining new momentum. “Cam,” she protested, glancing at the closed door. She grabbed for his wrist, trying to keep his hand away from the ring. He grappled with her playfully, turning until they had completed a full revolution across the mattress and she was under him again.
He was rampantly aroused now, teasing her with slow lunges. Twisting beneath him, Amelia pushed at his dark head as he began to kiss her breasts. “But … we just finished…”
Cam lifted his head. “Roma,” he said, as if by way of explanation, and settled back over her.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“As Rohan pulled the man upward, he glanced toward the threshold of a door that led into the club, where a club employee waited. “Dawson, escort Lord Latimer to his carriage out front. I’ll take Lord Selway.”
“No need,” said the aristocrat who had just struggled to his feet, sounding winded. “I can walk to my own bloody carriage.” Tugging his clothes back into place over his bulky form, he threw the dark-haired man an anxious glance. “Rohan, I will have your word on something.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“If word of this gets out—if Lady Selway should discover that I was fighting over the favors of a fallen woman—my life won’t be worth a farthing.”
Rohan replied with reassuring calm. “She’ll never know, my lord.”
“She knows everything,” Selway said. “She’s in league with the devil. If you are ever questioned about this minor altercation…”
“It was caused by a particularly vicious game of whist,” came the bland reply.
“Yes. Yes. Good man.” Selway patted the younger man on the shoulder. “And to put a seal on your silence—” He reached a beefy hand inside his waistcoat and extracted a small bag.
“No, my lord.” Rohan stepped back with a firm shake of his head, his shiny black hair flying with the movement and settling back into place. “There’s no price for my silence.”
“Take it,” the aristocrat insisted.
“I can’t, my lord.”
“It’s yours.” The bag of coins was tossed to the ground, landing at Rohan’s feet with a metallic thud. “There. Whether you choose to leave it lying on the street or not is entirely your choice.”
As the gentleman left, Rohan stared at the bag as if it were a dead rodent. “I don’t want it,” he muttered to no one in particular.
“I’ll take it,” the prostitute said, sauntering over to him. She scooped up the bag and tested its heft in her palm. A taunting grin split her face. “Gor’, I’ve never seen a Gypsy what’s afraid o’ blunt.”
“I’m not afraid of it,” Rohan said sourly. “I just don’t need it.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“No need,” said the aristocrat who had just struggled to his feet, sounding winded. “I can walk to my own bloody carriage.” Tugging his clothes back into place over his bulky form, he threw the dark-haired man an anxious glance. “Rohan, I will have your word on something.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“If word of this gets out—if Lady Selway should discover that I was fighting over the favors of a fallen woman—my life won’t be worth a farthing.”
Rohan replied with reassuring calm. “She’ll never know, my lord.”
“She knows everything,” Selway said. “She’s in league with the devil. If you are ever questioned about this minor altercation…”
“It was caused by a particularly vicious game of whist,” came the bland reply.
“Yes. Yes. Good man.” Selway patted the younger man on the shoulder. “And to put a seal on your silence—” He reached a beefy hand inside his waistcoat and extracted a small bag.
“No, my lord.” Rohan stepped back with a firm shake of his head, his shiny black hair flying with the movement and settling back into place. “There’s no price for my silence.”
“Take it,” the aristocrat insisted.
“I can’t, my lord.”
“It’s yours.” The bag of coins was tossed to the ground, landing at Rohan’s feet with a metallic thud. “There. Whether you choose to leave it lying on the street or not is entirely your choice.”
As the gentleman left, Rohan stared at the bag as if it were a dead rodent. “I don’t want it,” he muttered to no one in particular.
“I’ll take it,” the prostitute said, sauntering over to him. She scooped up the bag and tested its heft in her palm. A taunting grin split her face. “Gor’, I’ve never seen a Gypsy what’s afraid o’ blunt.”
“I’m not afraid of it,” Rohan said sourly. “I just don’t need it.”
― Mine Till Midnight
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