Kate Pearce was born and raised in England and is a part of a large family which is mainly made up of girls. It did not take long, for Kate to realize that her imagination was much more interesting than life itself. While in California, Kate decided to reset herself as a writer of romance. During her free time, Kate not only writes but also self-publishes her very own historical romance, science fiction romance and anything else that she can think of.
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The premise of the story is cleverly executed, as every instance is important in explaining the lives of the hero and heroine. Valentin and Sara are a most unforgettable couple, as their individual natures and beliefs make them uniquely intriguing. From their first unconventional scene in the story, this couple grabbed me with their originality and each additional meeting only intensified their appeal.
Though sex is an extremely important part of this story, there are mysteries surrounding this couple plus numerous emotional issues which give the plot a realistic feel. The reactions of Valentin and Sara are always convincing and go along with exactly how I thought they would respond in any given situation.
Valentin is an especially complex character, and I was captivated by his life as Ms. Pearce slowly reveals his innermost thoughts and secrets. Watching Sara flourish after becoming involved with Valentin is believably shown with potent passions and sincere feelings.
Every instant of this story will be experienced by the reader, whether it engages their heart from the powerful emotions or awakens their own desires. I hate that it ended and have since gone back and reread certain scenes.
Very highly recommended. She is most willing to be educated in the art of sensuality, to receive and give pleasure and to succumb to the wild desire that knows no limits… Read an Excerpt Chapter One Southampton, England Sara pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop from gasping as she watched the man and woman writhe together on the tangled bedsheets. The violent rhythm of his thrusts made the iron bedstead creak as Daisy moaned and cried out his name.
Sara knew she should move away from the half-opened door. Her skin prickled, and her heart thumped hard against her breasts. He turned his head, and his eyes locked with hers. Sara spun away, gathered her shawl around her shoulders, and stumbled back along the corridor. She had her hand on the landing door when footsteps behind her made her pause. Reluctantly she turned to face him.
He strolled toward her, tucking his white shirt into his unfastened breeches. His discarded coat, waistcoat, and cravat hung over his arm. A thin glow of perspiration covered his tanned skin, a testament to his recent exertions. Sara drew herself up to her full height. I merely confirmed my suspicions that you are not a fit mate for my youngest sister.
He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His body was as graceful as a Greek sculpture, and he moved like a trained dancer. Although she mistrusted him, she yearned to reach out and stroke his lush lower lip just to see if he was real.
His hair was a rich chestnut brown, held back from his face with a black silk ribbon. An unfashionable style, but it suited him. He arched one eyebrow. Every movement he made was so polished, she suspected he practiced each one in the mirror until he perfected it. His open-necked shirt revealed half a bronzed coin strung on a strand of leather and hinted at the thickness of the hair on his chest.
His citrus scent was underscored by another more powerful and elusive smell that she realized must be sex. Personally, I cannot think of anything worse than being trapped in a marriage like that.
Sara edged back toward the door. He angled his body to block her exit. Have you decided to risk all for the love of a common man?
What do you intend to do? Insist I marry her? Go and tell tales to your father? She licked her lips. His interested gaze followed the movement of her tongue. He was delighted when you offered to marry one of his daughters. I would marry all three of you if such a thing were allowed in this country.
His face resumed the lazy, taunting expression she had come to dread. I wanted to ask you not to dishonor my sister by taking a mistress after you wed and to remain true to your vows. He would be so disappointed in you. You are a man without honor? She found it difficult to breathe as she gazed into his amazing eyes. She knows little of the world.
I am only trying to protect her. To her relief, his air of contained violence dissipated. You are the oldest, are you not? I had my chance to catch a husband. I had a Season in London and failed to capitalize on it. She shivered. His rapt expression intensified. She is more impressed by wealth and status than Charlotte. I have been known to admire a woman with drive and determination. Something urgent sparked between them. She fought a desire to lean closer and rub her cheek against his muscular chest.
At least I will be able to be myself. Might you not regret sampling those? His smile widened. He extended his index finger and gently closed her mouth. Sara wanted to cross her arms over her breasts. She trembled when he stepped back and studied her. She waited for a rush of anger to fuel her courage, but nothing happened. She let him look at her, tempted to take his hand and press it to her breast. Somehow she knew he would assuage the pulsing ache that flooded her senses.
Sara closed her eyes as a pang of need shot straight to her womb. She covered herself with her shawl and backed away. As soon as she managed to wrench the door open, she ran. His laughter pursued her down the stairwell. He absentmindedly set himself to rights and considered her reaction to him. She needed a man inside her whether she realized it or not. Perhaps he should reconsider his plan to marry the young and oh-so-biddable Charlotte. His smile faded as he followed Sara down the stairs. John Harrison had a special bond with his eldest daughter.
He strolled down one flight of stairs and made his way back along the darkened corridor to his bedroom. There was no sign of Sara. Valentin surveyed his empty bed and imagined Sara lying naked in the center, her long black hair spread on the pillows, her arms open wide to welcome him. He frowned as his cock throbbed with need. Sara Harrison would not be a complacent wife.
To lay the ghosts of his past, he needed to settle down with a conventional woman who would present him with children and leave him to his own devices. One of her sisters would definitely be a better choice. He suspected Sara would be a challenge. Her frank curiosity stirred his senses. Her innocence and underlying sensuality deserved to be explored.
He stripped off his clothes and let them drop to the floor. The meager fire had gone out, and coldness crept through the ill-fitting windows and door. John Harrison was not due to return to his family until Friday night. Valentin climbed into bed. His brief, interrupted tryst with the enthusiastic Daisy had done little to slake his desire. Valentin tried to ignore the unpleasant smell of damp and mildewed sheets as he closed his fist around his erection and stroked himself toward a climax.
Imagining it was Sara who touched him made him want to come quickly. Had she wanted to touch him herself? The thought made him shudder. His body jerked as he climaxed.
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