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Charlotte Featherstone, has written some of the most compelling historical romances I have ever read. Her stories are powerful, sensual and instantly pulls you in. Guarantee to make you fall in love from the first chapter.
Charlotte Featherstone, has written some of the most compelling historical romances I have ever read. Her stories are powerful, sensual and instantly pulls you in. Guarantee to make you fall in love from the first chapter.
“It is not your time, love. You will not die tonight.
All this time she thought herself in love with the notion of Death. His gallantry, his beautiful soul. She believed he loved her because he had spared her from his grip. But it had not been Death, but Black.
“Why?” she asked, and her body shook, knowing his sacrifice, knowing he knew her most guarded secret.
“Because I loved you,” he murmured. “I couldn’t let you go, because I knew I could no longer see you, I couldn’t live, either.”
Black had risked his life to save her from taking her own.
He rose, helped her up and clutched her in his arms. “It is too soon for you to make your decision,” he said. “Come to me when you know what you want. My wishes will remain unchanged.”
“What do you want?”
He kissed her, pressed her body into his hot, hard one. “To be inside you. To lay you out and touch you with my hands, my mouth and tongue. I want to slip deep inside you and never leave. I want to wake up in the morning and open my eyes to find you lying there next to me. I want to look at my children and see you in their little faces.”
“Jude,” she whispered, holding him, weakening.
“But I want you to want that as much as I do, Isabella.”
“We have too many secrets,” she began. “Our pasts…”
“Secrets, like passion, are meant to be spent. I will bear all my sins, all my secrets, when you come to me. It’s all I can offer. You see, little love, I’m afraid, too, but the difference between us is that I believe it’s worth it to face that fear if it means that I’ll have you.”
All this time she thought herself in love with the notion of Death. His gallantry, his beautiful soul. She believed he loved her because he had spared her from his grip. But it had not been Death, but Black.
“Why?” she asked, and her body shook, knowing his sacrifice, knowing he knew her most guarded secret.
“Because I loved you,” he murmured. “I couldn’t let you go, because I knew I could no longer see you, I couldn’t live, either.”
Black had risked his life to save her from taking her own.
He rose, helped her up and clutched her in his arms. “It is too soon for you to make your decision,” he said. “Come to me when you know what you want. My wishes will remain unchanged.”
“What do you want?”
He kissed her, pressed her body into his hot, hard one. “To be inside you. To lay you out and touch you with my hands, my mouth and tongue. I want to slip deep inside you and never leave. I want to wake up in the morning and open my eyes to find you lying there next to me. I want to look at my children and see you in their little faces.”
“Jude,” she whispered, holding him, weakening.
“But I want you to want that as much as I do, Isabella.”
“We have too many secrets,” she began. “Our pasts…”
“Secrets, like passion, are meant to be spent. I will bear all my sins, all my secrets, when you come to me. It’s all I can offer. You see, little love, I’m afraid, too, but the difference between us is that I believe it’s worth it to face that fear if it means that I’ll have you.”
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