“Jasper,” she whispered, shocked by the violent quiver that moved through her. “I have an unusually strong interest in you.” He pressed his lips to the bare skin between her shoulder and throat. In the swirling confusion, she grasped the first thought that came to her… “Are you one of those gentlemen who have an unusually strong interest in red hair?” Everything was rendered in brilliant clarity, from the crystals hanging from the many ornate candlesticks, to the inlaid mother-of-pearl glimmering from the tops of the end tables. Her gaze darted around the room, hyperaware of her surroundings. He loosened the ribbon securing her hair, returned the errant lock to its former place, and retied the whole more securely. He lifted the curl from her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers. Awareness of him swept outward, flowing across her skin like warm water. She jumped slightly at the feel of his fingers against her nape. “Turn around.”Īs Eliza pivoted, she disturbed the air, allowing the primitive scent that clung to him–horses and leather, tobacco and bergamot–to tease her senses. Holding out a hand, he assisted her to her feet. A lock of her hair was dislodged by the movement, slipping free of her hastily tied ribbon to slide over her shoulder. She nodded, believing the sincerity in his tone. Your safety is of the utmost importance to me.” “Please understand, I only wish to be thorough.

Why did Jasper have to be the man to awaken such reactions in her? Why did he have to prove, just by breathing, that she wasn’t immune to needing someone after all? She was so disappointed to realize there were indeed some shades of pleasure that could only be colored by another hand. It is the most glorious feeling in the world. I never feel so alive as I do when I am the object of a man’s desire, her mother had said, spinning like a giddy girl with her skirts held in each hand. The air around her became charged with his energy.

Pride and Pleasure by Sylvia Day