CHAPTER
Amarrion – now
There were few sights as lovely as the city of
Her father’s wealth had had much to do with it; the Alvarez family were royally impoverished and desperate to improve their own fortunes. There was also the fact of Luis’s birth – there were some in the noble families who disdained to marry with a bastard born lord despite Luis’s title.
Myrissa glanced out the window again at the balcony next door but the big fair haired man, who had been staring at her quite rudely, had disappeared into his room. She turned back into the chamber and sat down on the bed beside Luis, running her fingers up his spine and brushing aside the heavy, black hair that lay upon his shoulders. She leant forward and placed a kiss against his neck.
“Mmmm,” he murmured sleepily.
“You’ll have to get up soon lazybones,” she said. “We need to start getting ready for the reception.”
She felt him tense under her hands.
“I’ve got a headache,” he muttered.
“You seemed fine not that long ago,” Myrissa teased. “Besides, would you deny me the chance to dress up and parade through the ballroom with you on my arms?”
Luis grunted and rolled onto his back, his mouth set into a sulky line. Myrissa ran her fingers across his lips playfully, trying to coax a smile from him. Most of the time Luis treated her with a lazy tenderness which occasionally flared into a desperate passion that startled them both. Sometimes, when in the grip of the darkness that was the aftermath of Brasada, he could be terrifyingly cold and remote, and then there were the times, like now, when he behaved like a sullen child who needed to be cajoled into behaving properly. Myrissa trailed her fingers down his jaw, gently swirling them through the dark hair on his chest before running them down his abdomen. She came to a halt when she reached the terrible scar running across his flat, hard belly, a twisted rope of scar tissue. She stroked the scar softly and felt his belly clench under her fingers. Luis gripped her wrist and held her hand still. Myrissa could read the warning in his eyes. There were some things which would not be tolerated and touching his scar in any way other than in the accidental throes of passion was one of them.
Releasing her hand, Luis rolled over to the other side of the bed and stood up. He walked to the washbasin and taking a cloth began to lathe his body. Myrissa followed him. She gazed over his shoulder, grimacing at her image in the mirror that sat on the wall above the basin.
“I look a fright,” she said as she combed her hands through her dense, chestnut curls.
Luis’s blue eyes met her brown ones in the mirror and she saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.
“Never,” he said.
Myrissa kissed his shoulder as she reached around him and took the cloth out of his hands.
“Let me,” she said and slowly dragged the damp cloth across Luis’s shoulders and down his back in a slow, sensual glide. He closed his dark blue eyes. Myrissa could see another faint smile playing on his lips. She knelt before him, reaching down to run the cloth up his legs. Then she replaced the cloth with her tongue and Luis shivered as she began to lick his quickening flesh.
“I thought we were in a hurry,” he gasped.
Myrissa smiled up at him. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll be ready on time.”
Luis tangled his fingers in her hair. “You are so good to me.”
Myrissa tried to reply but he held her firmly against his body preventing her from speaking.
“Sshh,” he drew in a ragged breath.” Don’t you know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?”
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