Bought For The Frenchman's Pleasure
As Romain De Valois approached the ballroom he was glad for a second that the doors were closed. They acted as a barrier of sorts between him and that world. The thought caught him up short. A barrier? Since when had he ever thought he needed that? His strides grew longer, quicker, as if to shrug off the unaccustomed feeling that assailed him. And the most curious sensation hit him too at that moment…the desire to have someone by his side as he approached this set of doors. Someone…a woman…with her hand in his, who would understand effortlessly what he was thinking, who would glance up at him, a gleam of shared understanding in her eyes. She might even smile a little, squeeze his hand…
His steps faltered for just a second before reaching the door. The vibration of the orchestra, the muted raucous chatter and laughter of the hundreds of people inside was palpable in his chest. What on earth was wrong with him? Daydreaming about a woman when he'd never felt the lack of anything before—much less a partner. And one thing was for sure: no woman existed like that in his world, or even in his imagination until that second. If he wanted a wom ... read full excerpt from: Bought for the Frenchman's Pleasure ebook
