Commanded To His Bed
Queen Eleanor's Court at Poitiers—May 1171
In the three months she'd been at Queen Eleanor's court, men had called her many things—the least unpleasant, and familiar, had something to do with ice and frost. She'd heard that complaint more times than not.
Yet now, each article of clothing seemed to evaporate like the morning mists. Her gown fell from her body, leaving the evening air free to whisper across her quivering flesh. With nothing more than a smoldering stare, he undressed her slowly, one agonizing layer at a time.
Adrienna of Hallison trembled with anticipation, fear and a longing so intense she was certain she'd die. She wanted more than just his gaze. She wanted his breath on her neck, his lips against hers. Her breasts strained against the bodice of her gown, seeking his caress, aching for the touch of his hands.
Beneath the tight layers of linen and silk that concealed her body, her skin tingled. Fire and ice coursed through her veins. She prayed she'd not reveal her desire by blushing. To her utter dismay, heat filled her cheeks. She studied the richly laden table before her, hoping to hide her flaming face from him ... read full excerpt from: Commanded to His Bed ebook
