Midnight Eyes by Brophy, Sarah (well read books .TXT) 📕

noticed that he had knocked over his chair. Imogen flinched, startled by the suddenness of his movements and by the sharpness of wood hitting wood. She turned quickly toward the noise.

“Robert, what happened?”

“Madam, I’m through with eating,” he ground out.

“But I’ve barely started,” she squeaked, her brow furrowing with her confusion.

He reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet and after he had helped her down from the dais, he began to stride from the hall, ignoring the hooting and ribald comments that followed them.

As he pulled on her arm, Imogen had to run to keep up with his longer strides. He slowed down only after the second time she stumbled. Slowed, but wouldn’t be deterred from his ultimate objective. She yelled at him and tried to tug her hand free, but could not catch his attention until they were at at the bottom of the stairs.

He turned, despite the demon that rode him mercilessly, and even managed a smile at the innocent bewilderment on her face.

“Sir, this is madness,” she said breathlessly, all the while trying to reclaim her hand, which remained resolutely held in the warmth of his. It took only a slight tug for Robert to bring her body up to the burning heat of his. The silent sliding movement of her skirts over his thighs was almost his complete undoing.

“This might be madness,” he said hoarsely as he bent and placed an arm under her knees and swung her up to his chest, “but it is a divine madness, Wife.”

She let out a small squeak of protest, but as she felt his powerful strides start up the complaining stairs, she suddenly felt calm. Held against the warmth of his broad chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she almost dared to feel safe for the first time since her parents died. For this one, precious moment it was as if Roger and his dark games didn’t exist.

She was amazed to find herself actually snuggling herself against him. Her mind struggled to equate this strange behavior with the terror of her dark memories. She should be running, freezing, screaming or any of the things she did when Roger touched her, but somehow, it just wasn’t the same. Robert surrounded her so completely that he blocked out all of the darkness, leaving her free of it for the first time in her life.

It wasn’t to be trusted, she told herself sternly, even as she let herself enjoy the sensation. He wasn’t to be trusted. This was all an illusion conjured by Roger. She should be trying, however inadequately, to protect herself. She needed to prepare herself for the pain and fear that Roger always brought into her life, albeit that this time he was using this stranger as his weapon.

Instead, she found her arms tightening around her husband’s neck, drawing herself as close to him as she could be.

Robert was right. This all must be some kind of divine madness.

Chapter Four

Robert leaned against her chamber door, panting for a moment. He still held her tight to his chest, his arms like steel bands around her.

“Perhaps you should put me down now,” Imogen whispered huskily, barely able to recognize the voice that shattered the silence as her own. She didn’t even recognize herself in the wanton who so willingly embraced a man who was essentially a stranger, for all he was her husband, in her bedchamber. But she was. Despite all that Roger had done to her, he had not robbed her of her ability to find pleasure in the touch of this man. The realization staggered and amazed her. It was almost frightening, and a part of her wanted to run away from this strange new sensation, but a deeper, more primitive part had turned to molten lead. That was the part of her that seemed to be making her decisions at the moment.

“Perhaps,” he said hoarsely and began to slide her slowly down his body till her feet made contact with the floor. She was unsurprised to find that he didn’t let her go. She couldn’t seem to let him go either. Not just yet.

She felt almost dizzy as the dazzling heat rose through her body. She was feeling things she could scarcely identify, wanting things she should not be able to bear, but if her mind struggled to understand this bewildering new world, her body seemed to know of it already. It knew exactly what it sought, and moved instinctively against Robert in the getting of it.

He moaned in the back of his throat and lowered his mouth to claim hers.

She drew in a sharp breath at first contact, then slowly her hands wound themselves around his neck. It was the first kiss she had ever wanted. She whimpered as she felt his tongue move along the seam of her lips. He answered her small whimper with a demanding growl of his own and she opened her lips in eager response to his primitive demand.

Her first true kiss.

It quickly deepened, taking Imogen to a place she had never known existed inside of her. She found herself helpless and entirely unable to resist his sensual invasion. Her body longed for this strange new self he was showing her. It was as if she had come alive after a lifetime of slumber, every nerve ending opening to the world in a whole new way.

He invaded her every sense.

Her fingertips buried in his hair, tingling with the feel of his warm scalp. She could hear the scrape of his stubbled cheek against her skin, his roughness against her smoothness, her mews, his half groans, the moist sound of his mouth plundering hers and the shush of fabric rubbing against fabric created the most exquisite music that Imogen had ever heard.

It was the song of Robert making love to her.

Making love. She only half understood what those words meant. She knew of dark deeds to be forgotten in the daylight, but she knew nothing