“…‘I haven’t seen you before.’ His voice was velvet soft, lazy with provocation. But his gaze wasn’t lazy; it was predatory, like an animal on the scent. ‘My father and I are down from Scotland’ Zelda replied, half breathless under the unmistakable lust in his eyes, the warmth of his hand still tingling on her skin; her heart suddenly pounding. Their eyes held for a moment-pale blue and amethyst-and a flurry of ripe unguarded expectation shimmered in the air. Hotspur and graphic. Alec recovered first because he wasn’t given to blind impetuosity.”

“…she sipped her drink and tried not to stare at Dalgliesh. But he was murderously handsome, dark as a gypsy, with sleepy, bedroom eyes, his hunter’s gaze shuttered now that he was lounging relaxed in his chair, his brandy glass resting on his chest. His legs were stretched out before him…”

“You Mademoiselle are hardly in a position to remonstrate. The entire world has no doubt been at your feet from the cradle.”“Would you care to join them?” She was teasing but testing her powers too in a feminine display of vanity.She was too perfect he thought, as she stood provocatively nude before him, too exotic, too tempting, too assured of her extravagant beauty. “Perhaps some other time,” his gaze having shuttered slightly, the familiar sardonic half-lidded gaze of the Duc de Vec once again regarding her…”

“She writhed helplessly against his steely grip, her frantic movement only furthering the progress of his softly caressing tongue. In moments, Hazard forced a shuddering moan from her and quivering she gasped in shallow rapturous sighs.”

“He should have left long ago. He actually did once – or nearly did, but Zelda pulled him back. Not that he needed any persuasion with her warm, welcoming body the ultimate Nirvana and his libido operating within the very narrow range of sex, sex, and more sex.”

“Well, thank you, ma’am,” he said still breathing hard, his heated body sleek with sweat, his smile angelic. “We … try.”

“She wasn’t aware of the rip he made in the back of her dress when his shaking hands wrenched the zip down, only of the molten sensuality of his gaze as he steered her into a shaft of light near the window and studied her breasts, nestled in their cups of pure white lace. ’Sweet…pretty…did you wear this for me?’ he asked thickly, roughly tracing the outline of the lace across the curving swells. ‘Did you want me to take off your dress tonight, Grace? To admire you like this?’ ’I…’ His arousal was so flatteringly intense that she couldn’t deny him the truth. ‘Yes…’ She closed her eyes, gasping as she felt the stroke of his thumbs across the seams, finding the rigid tips that were evidence of her own desire.”