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Kitabı oku: «Regency Affairs Part 1: Books 1-6 Of 12», sayfa 10

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Chapter Eleven

‘Would you like me to come down to the kitchens with you?’ Pandora offered as she stood up uncertainly, inwardly knowing that both she, and her emotions, felt far too fragile at this moment to entertain another encounter with the shrewish and insulting Patricia Stirling.

‘I’m quite capable of bumbling about on my own, thank you, Pandora.’ Rupert’s expression was wry as he crossed the bedchamber to open the door. ‘You’ll find several of my clean evening shirts hanging in the wardrobe, I suggest you use the time I am gone in which to choose one you might wish to wear after you have bathed.’ He closed the door quietly behind him as he left.

Pandora’s cheeks felt hot just at thinking about wearing one of Rupert’s own shirts in which to sleep. There was something altogether too … too intimate about the whole notion of having that soft and silky material against her own bare flesh as she lay in his bed attempting to sleep. Attempting, because Pandora seriously doubted that she would be able to do so knowing that Rupert was asleep in the room adjoining this one, and as such just a door’s width away …

Rupert came to a halt as he re-entered his bedchamber a short time later, his gaze sharp as he searched the deserted room for Pandora, but succeeding only in finding his evening cloak discarded across the bed. Leading him to question whether, whilst he was downstairs in the kitchen, Pandora had been foolish enough to have left the house wearing only her scorched nightgown and robe. Surely she did not fear him, and sleeping in his bedchamber, enough to have braved the dangers that possibly still watched and waited for her outside this house?

‘Rupert?’

His hands tightened about the bowl of water and towels he carried as Pandora stepped out from behind the open door of the wardrobe. One of his white shirts was clutched defensively to the swell of her bosom, her hair still a tumble of blonde curls over the slenderness of her shoulders and down the length of her spine, her eyes, as she looked up at him through silky lashes, appearing as large as violet pansies in the pearly pallor of her face.

Rupert put the bowl and towels down on to the stand before crossing the room, looking down at her searchingly as he reached out to clasp her lightly by the shoulders. ‘I thought you had gone.’ He scowled fiercely as she gave a pained wince. ‘Pandora?’

She grimaced. ‘My shoulders are a little … sore. From the heat of the flames earlier.’

Rupert frowned his concern even as he released her shoulders to gently take his shirt from her grasp before moving his hands to the fastening of her robe.

‘What are you doing?’ Pandora looked up at him uncertainly.

He gave her a gentle reassuring squeeze. ‘I wish to see the extent of— Dear God, Pandora …!’ His face darkened as, having slipped the robe from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor, he was able to at last see the charred remains of her white nightgown.

For remains was all there was, several patches of material burnt away at the bodice, and so revealing the redness to her shoulders and the soft curve of one of her breasts, the damage much more extensive as Rupert’s gaze moved downwards; through a gaping and ragged hole near the curve of her left hip he could see more of her reddened flesh and the bottom of the gown had mostly been burnt away to reveal the same redness to the long silky length of her calves and thighs.

Rupert was filled with a murderous rage. ‘When I discover who did this to you I intend to personally strangle them with my bare hands!’

Pandora’s husky laugh caught on a sob. ‘It’s only a little uncomfortable.’

‘A little?’ Rupert’s eyes were dark and stormy as he reached out to almost touch the redness on her shoulders. ‘I should send for the doctor—’

‘No,’ Pandora instantly refused, although even the air moving in the stillness of the room seemed to hurt her now hot and bared flesh. ‘I—I shall be perfectly all right once I have bathed away the grime. And perhaps you have a salve I might apply to the burns to take away some of the sting?’

He reached into the pocket of his black pantaloons and produced a small jar bearing a handwritten label ‘for burns’. ‘Mrs Hammond keeps it on a shelf next to the cooking range and I brought it with me, just in case,’ he murmured distractedly as he continued to look down at the mottled flesh revealed by Pandora’s ragged nightgown. ‘Thanking Bentley earlier was nowhere near enough—remind me to shake him warmly by the hand when next I see him!’

Pandora gave another husky laugh. ‘He would think you had gone completely mad!’

Rupert gave a slow shake of his head. ‘I may just have done that if he had not managed to rescue you.’

‘But he did rescue me.’ Pandora reached up to lightly clasp one of Rupert’s hands within both of hers. ‘Now, if you don’t mind leaving? I should very much like to undress and wash whilst the water is still warm.’

‘No.’

Her eyes widened. ‘No?’

Glittering silver eyes looked deeply into hers. ‘I am to act as your maid in Henley’s absence, remember?’

‘Yes …’

He nodded. ‘And if Henley were here she would help you attend to both the washing and these burns.’

Pandora swallowed before speaking. ‘You cannot seriously be suggesting that you intend to—’

‘I am not merely suggesting anything, Pandora, I am stating it as a fact.’ Rupert’s expression was determined as his hand turned to lightly clasp hers so that he might draw her along beside him towards the bed. ‘And once I have seen the extent of your burns, if I feel it necessary, I shall then demand a doctor be called.’

Pandora’s heart was pounding loudly in her chest, the burning of her flesh now due to thoughts of Rupert attending to her so intimately. She could not possibly allow— He must not—

She gasped as he slipped the ribbon straps of her gown from her shoulders and allowed it to slowly fall down her body until it lay at her slippered feet, leaving Pandora completely naked to the sweep of his piercing gaze.

She knew exactly what he would see: narrow shoulders, full and uptilting breasts tipped with rosy nipples, tiny waist sweeping out to curvaceous hips and delicately slender legs. And all showing patches of redness from where the flames had licked against her flesh earlier.

It was altogether shocking for her to stand naked and exposed before a gentleman she had known but a few days. For her to stand naked in front of any man, no matter how long their acquaintance!

She breathed shallowly as she began to tingle from head to toe under the intensity of that piercing silver gaze, her skin now feeling hot and fevered, the tips of her breasts tightening as the nipples peaked, and between her thighs becoming damp and swollen.

The tip of Pandora’s tongue flicked moistly across the dryness of her lips before she spoke huskily, ‘I don’t think this is altogether wise, Rupert …’

Any wisdom he might have possessed had left him the moment he looked upon the perfection of Pandora’s naked body: full and rounded breasts that he knew would fit perfectly into the palms of his hands, a slender waist he could easily span with those same two hands, deliciously curvaceous hips, with a tiny triangle of silky golden curls at the apex of her thighs, and her legs long and creamy soft.

Perfect, that is, apart from the patches of redness left by the flames having licked against that smooth and delicate flesh.

‘Let me see your back …’ His breath caught in his throat as he gently turned her and saw those same blotches of red in several places down the length of her spine and another across one creamy buttock. ‘Pandora!’

‘I’m sure it looks much worse than it is,’ she dismissed softly.

‘Stay just as you are,’ he instructed gruffly as he released her to turn and dampen one of the cloths in the still-warm water before gently dabbing away the sooty residue that had been left upon her skin. ‘Tell me if I hurt you.’

‘I’m sure you won’t.’ Her voice was low and husky.

Rupert frowned intently as he concentrated on sweeping the cloth lightly over her back, taking care not to touch any of the sorer-looking places, before just as carefully drying the skin with the second cloth. ‘I will apply some of the salve now. It may be a little cool to your skin. The last thing I want to do is hurt you,’ he groaned as Pandora flinched slightly as he spread the salve lightly across her shoulders and down her back before turning his attention to that vivid welt across her buttock.

Pandora was unsure which of her emotions was predominant at that moment, pain or pleasure. Pain, because the salve was initially cold against her heated skin, but pleasure, because of the gentleness with which Rupert smoothed that salve over and into her sensitive flesh and succeeded in arousing her at the same time as it soothed her …

Her breath caught in her throat as Rupert sat down on the bed to place his legs either side of hers, entrapping her, as he applied the salve to the globe of her bottom, his touch as gentle as a caress as his fingers lightly kneaded her skin. Over and around. And then again. And again. A shiver coursed down her spine as she felt the lightness of those fingers caress down the crease between her buttocks. ‘Rupert …?’ she murmured uncertainly.

‘You have the most beautiful bottom, Pandora.’ Again those fingers lightly touched against that sensitive crease.

Pandora’s face was hot with embarrassment as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at Rupert, only the top of his golden head visible as he bent in concentration on his task, his breath a warm caress against her now hot and throbbing flesh. ‘I don’t believe I was burnt there.’

‘No.’ Rupert did not look up even though he knew that Pandora was looking at him, his gaze fixed, watching, as his much darker hands smoothed the salve over both pale globes of her bottom now, cupping, caressing, before he was drawn back again and again to that tantalising crease between.

‘Rupert!’ He heard Pandora give a breathless gasp as he once again gave in to the temptation to touch her there.

‘So perfect. So utterly perfect,’ he muttered even as he withdrew his hand before lightly clasping Pandora’s hips to slowly turn her to face him, her hands moving up to lightly grasp his shoulders as she swayed slightly off balance.

He breathed shallowly as he looked upon the lovely sloping breasts only inches away from his face, creamy white orbs tipped with rose-coloured nipples that caused the already thickly engorged length of his shaft to throb and ache with increasing arousal.

‘What are you doing?’ Pandora asked in some alarm as Rupert slowly bent forwards, his shoulders feeling hot to her touch through the thin material of his shirt.

He glanced up at her, his lips only a breath away from the pouting tips of her breasts. ‘I was merely reaching for the washcloth,’ he muttered. His gaze continued to hold hers captive as one of his arms moved about her waist towards the bowl of water, squeezing the excess water from that washcloth before sitting back, his gaze lowering to watch again as he gently wiped that cloth across her breasts.

Pandora continued to feel the burn of Rupert’s flesh against her palms as her fingers now dug into his shoulders, the cloth cool against her own skin and causing the rosy tips of her breasts to become even more prominent.

At least, Pandora tried to tell herself that was the reason she clung to Rupert so tightly as he gently continued his ministrations, but inwardly she knew she was only deceiving herself and that it was Rupert’s close proximity and the touch of his hands arousing her, both within and without.

She closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the intimacy—the temptation!—of seeing Rupert’s blond head bent so close to her naked breasts, his breath now a hot caress against her skin and causing the tiny hairs upon her arms and nape to rise as she knew herself to be fully aware of him. ‘Rupert, I don’t think—Oh!’ Pandora gave a low and keening cry, her lids opening wide in shock and then fluttering closed as she enjoyed the soft touch of his lips against the underside of her breast.

‘I am merely “kissing it better”, Pandora,’ he whispered as he placed yet another kiss against her burning flesh, higher this time, so close to one of her pouting nipples it almost felt as if he had kissed her there.

If Pandora were to move her torso, just slightly, then she would touch that aching bud against Rupert’s parted lips, would once again know the ecstasy he had shown her in his coach when he had kissed her there …

‘Does it hurt here, too, Pandora?’

She felt the gentle brush of his fingertips against that sensitive tip, just that light caress enough to make her gasp as the pleasure coursed through her and settled between her thighs.

‘Pandora?’ Rupert now looked up at her with eyes of dark stormy-tossed grey as he waited for her answer.

She trembled slightly as she returned his gaze, feeling as if she was perched on the edge of a precipice, but one, if she were to indeed jump off, guaranteed to give her intense pleasure rather than pain. Was this not what Genevieve had talked of that night at Sophia’s ball? The excitement of taking a lover? Of enjoying all the pleasures a man of Rupert’s experience could undoubtedly show her?

Was she now going to refuse that pleasure? For she knew, without his having to say so, that if she said no to him then Rupert would accept her refusal. That he would finish helping her to wash, apply the soothing salve and then leave her.

She drew in a ragged breath. ‘It hurts, Rupert,’ she groaned achingly. ‘So very much.’ She arched her back as she tilted her breast against his waiting lips.

Rupert needed no second invitation as he parted his lips wide and drew that swollen nubbin into the waiting heat of his mouth, gently at first, then more greedily as he heard Pandora’s sounds of pleasure, his hand now cupping beneath her other breast as he ran the soft pad of his thumb across the pouting nipple before squeezing it lightly between thumb and finger.

‘Oh, dear heaven!’ Pandora stepped even closer between his parted legs as he suckled more strongly, their thighs touching, Rupert able to scent her arousal now, both sweet and salty, and so deliciously tempting.

Rupert was breathing heavily as he pulled back slightly. ‘Put both your legs over mine, Pandora.’

She blinked down at him owlishly. ‘I don’t …’

‘Like this,’ he encouraged huskily as he raised one of her legs and placed it over his thigh, and then raising the other so that she now sat across his thighs as he gently, carefully, cupped the bareness of her bottom and pulled her in even closer, the silken folds between her thighs now fully parted and cupping his iron-hard shaft through his pantaloons. ‘Oh, yes …’ he groaned as he began to slowly thrust against those swollen folds as he once again drew her nipple deep into the heat of his mouth, tongue laving, teeth biting as he felt and heard her rising pleasure.

Pandora arched her back, her fingers becoming entangled in the thick gold of Rupert’s hair as she pressed her breast even deeper into the heat of his mouth. She had never dreamed that ecstasy such as this existed, that a man could do these things with his lips and tongue and hands—

No, that was not true, she had dreamed of making love many times during the barren years of her marriage, but those dreams had never been like this. So intimate. So wild. So totally, decadently pleasurable …!

It was unlike anything else she had ever known, between her thighs now drenched with moisture, the rhythmic thrust of Rupert’s shaft pressing against a part of her there that gave her pleasure almost beyond bearing, until Pandora ached, longed, for something more …

‘Please!’ she gasped brokenly. ‘Oh, Rupert, please …!’

She felt briefly bereft at the removal of the hand that had cupped and caressed her breast, only to gasp with renewed pleasure as that hand moved in between them and down to the inside of her parted thighs, stroking, caressing, until he centred those strokes upon the engorged nubbin he found nestled there, gently and then harder, over and over again. Pandora cried out at the pleasure rising within her and she instinctively began move into those caressing fingers, only to gasp anew as she felt Rupert plunge one of those long fingers inside her, thrusting in slowly, widening her, readying her, before it was joined by a second finger, the soft pad of his thumb continuing to stroke and press the nubbin above as he thrust time and time again into her tightness, filling her, taking her ever closer to that precipice.

He dragged his mouth from her breast, breathing hard and deeply. ‘Now, Pandora!’ he muttered against her hot and swollen nipple. ‘I want—need you to come now!’

Pandora was too lost to pleasure to understand or care as to his meaning, crying out as the pleasure finally exploded between her thighs in wave after wave of endless, mindless ecstasy.

Rupert drank in the beauty of Pandora’s flushed and heated face as he continued to plunge his fingers deep inside her at the same time as he stroked and rubbed that sensitive nubbin, not stopping or withdrawing from that dual assault upon her senses until Pandora’s climax left her so sated she could only collapse forwards weakly against Rupert’s shoulder, her hair falling about them in a wild golden tangle.

He rested his own forehead against the dampness of Pandora’s shoulder, breathing raggedly as he fought for control of his still pulsing and throbbing shaft, realising as he felt the uncomfortable dampness of his underclothes that he had not been completely successful. Dear Lord, one touch of Pandora’s delicate fingers and he was sure he would explode into her hand like a callow youth! A lack of control which Rupert could not remember feeling for many years, if ever.

It was all Pandora, of course. Beautiful, delicious, and enticing Pandora. Even with that welt across the delicacy of her skin she had the most tantalising bottom it had ever been Rupert’s pleasure to touch, the most responsive breasts, and as for that enticing place between her thighs …!

Dear God in heaven, if he didn’t leave this room in the next few minutes Rupert knew he was going to explode inside his pantaloons just thinking about her sensuous and wantonly responsive body.

The same beauty and responsive wantonness that had held Maybury and Stanley captive a year ago? Enslaving them both? Driving those two gentlemen to the madness of taking each other’s lives in a greedy effort to win all of Pandora’s passionate responses for themselves?

Was this now to be Rupert’s own fate, too?

Pandora came back to her senses slowly, every muscle in her body seeming to ache as she felt so weak and pleasured she was totally unable to move. And yet she must move. Could not remain draped and exposed across Rupert’s thighs like this for the rest of the night.

More importantly, was what had just happened to her completely natural? Her eyes had flown wide open and she had stared into Rupert’s face as the hitherto unknown pleasure claimed her in wave after wave of heated and uncontrollable sensation, her abandonment complete as she could not stop herself from deepening that pleasure as she rose and then plunged down time and time again on to those pumping fingers.

And the tortured look upon Rupert’s face, as he looked at her, watched her with stormy eyes, had seemed as if he were in pain rather than the ecstasy of pleasure in which Pandora was so totally lost.

The very same look which still twisted his aristocratically handsome face as Pandora finally, slowly, raised her head to look at him …

Chapter Twelve

‘Steady,’ Rupert was the first to break the silence that had befallen them, as he gently eased his claim on Pandora before helping her to slide from his thighs and stand up, enjoying the enticing view of her curvaceous back and that delicious bottom as she turned away to bend and pick up his shirt from where it had fallen to the floor some time ago.

She kept her back towards him as she slipped the garment over her head before lifting the wildness of her hair free until it once again cascaded down the length of her spine.

Her stiff and unyielding spine. Just as the profile she turned to him now was coolly remote as she spoke evenly. ‘I— That was impulsive and unwise of us, and I—I think it best if you were to leave me now.’

Yes, that would surely be for the best, Rupert acknowledged dully. To remove himself from Pandora’s vicinity. Well away from the temptation she still represented to him, when his manhood was still an aching throb of need between his thighs.

He stood up abruptly before rasping, ‘Always leave the man begging for more, is that the way of it, Pandora?’

She turned to him sharply, those violet eyes dark and pained. ‘I—you—that was never my intention!’

Rupert sighed, knowing that his anger was not directed at Pandora, but towards himself. It had been his intention to enjoy the delights of her body as he bathed and caressed her, but he had not expected to then find himself so mesmerised by her beauty, and her response to his caresses, that he knew he was seriously in danger of becoming totally lost to the need to possess her. Totally. Utterly. Again. And again. Until Pandora remembered no other lover but him.

Not a pleasant or comfortable realisation for a man who, in the past, had always taken any woman he desired and then just as easily—and unemotionally—discarded her.

‘I apologise for that remark, Pandora, it was both crass and insulting.’ He reached out to take one of her hands in his before raising it to his lips. ‘I shouldn’t have taken things so far as I did. You were tired and in discomfort, and surely in no condition to—’ He broke off with a self-disgusted shake of his head as he released her hand before straightening swiftly. ‘Is there anything else you are in need of before I leave?’

Was there anything else Pandora was in need of?

So many things. Words of kindness. Even affection. Anything but the strained awkwardness that now stood as a barrier between the two of them.

She took in Rupert’s dishevelled appearance, the gold of his hair in disarray from where her fingers had threaded through its silky length at the height of her passion, his lips looking fuller—from his attentions to her breasts?—his shirt hanging loose from his pantaloons.

The heat deepened in Pandora’s cheeks as she turned away from the bulge of his arousal, which was still visible beneath those pantaloons. ‘No, I don’t believe there is anything else I require tonight.’ She attempted an uncertain smile, sure she had never felt so uncomfortable, or so embarrassed, in her life.

No one had ever touched her before in the intimate way that Rupert just had. Arousing her. Claiming her. Taking her to a pinnacle of pleasure she had never dreamed existed. And all the time she had been completely naked in Rupert’s arms he had remained dressed in his shirt, meticulously tied neckcloth, waistcoat, pantaloons and boots!

What must Rupert now think of her abandonment? Of the way in which she had so completely lost all control? Certainly there was none of that closeness she hungered for. The lying in each other’s arms, the gentle murmurings she had always imagined would surely follow such physical closeness.

But what did she really know of ‘physical closeness’? Until tonight, her only experience in that regard had been the humiliation she had suffered on her wedding night, when Barnaby had entered her bedchamber for the sole purpose of informing her he didn’t find her in the least physically attractive, nor did he ever intend to touch her body in tenderness, let alone passion!

No, perhaps this distance, this coolness between a man and woman who were not married to each other was how these things usually ended once the passion was spent?

All these years Pandora had wondered, and hungered, for physical intimacy, only to now realise that it was not as she had thought it would be at all. Oh, the pleasure was even more glorious than she could ever have imagined, but this—the distance and coolness that now existed between herself and Rupert—was surely not worth even those wondrous minutes of heady delight?

‘We will talk again in the morning,’ he said gently.

‘I— Yes, of course we will talk again tomorrow.’ Her smile became even more strained. A smile Pandora maintained until Rupert had gone through to the adjoining dressing room and closed the door quietly behind him.

At which time she dropped down heavily on to the side of the bed, her face buried in her hands as she gave in to the tears which had been threatening to fall since the moment she regained her senses and Rupert had become a distant stranger to her.

Genevieve had been wrong—taking a lover was not fun. It was not fun at all! Oh, the lovemaking had been a revelation, more beautiful than Pandora could ever have imagined, even in her most hungry-for-affection dreams. But the aftermath—the aftermath was bewildering, emotionally painful and not something Pandora believed she would ever wish to repeat …

‘What the deuce do you think you’re doing?’

Pandora gave such a start, at the unexpected sound of Rupert’s voice so close behind her, that for several moments she was in danger of falling from the chair she was currently standing upon in order to reach the lace glove, which seemed to have stubbornly hidden itself at the back of her wardrobe.

Instead she reached out to the shelf in front of her for balance, before turning to look over her shoulder at Rupert as he stood so elegantly and fashionably attired in the middle of her burnt-and-dishevelled bedchamber, in his superfine of cobalt blue, with a silver waistcoat beneath and pale grey pantaloons worn with black Hessians. His fallen-angel face was as wickedly handsome as ever, the gold of his hair falling rakishly over his brow as he quirked a mocking brow at her.

Pandora moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before answering him. ‘I would have thought that the open trunk beside you spoke for itself.’

Rupert’s mouth firmed. ‘Trunks may speak to you, Pandora, but none have as yet ever spoken to me.’

Her eyes narrowed as she released her death grip on the shelf before turning on her slippered feet to face him. ‘I’m referring to the fact that the number of my personal effects already packed inside the trunk must obviously mean that I am going away.’

Yes, Rupert had already ascertained that much. Just as he had realised, when he returned to Stratton House just an hour earlier, that his own bedchamber was empty, and that Pandora was gone from the house. Something his own butler had confirmed, along with the information that her Grace, the Duchess of Wyndwood, had sent word for her coach earlier this morning, along with her maid, and had departed with said maid and coach just a short time later. It had been left up to Rupert to guess that her destination was Highbury House.

A fact that had been confirmed when he arrived here a short time ago and was greeted at the door by Bentley, the grey cast to that gentleman’s face testament to his disturbed night and the shock he had suffered at having to rescue his mistress from being burnt alive in her bed. Safe in the knowledge that Pandora was indeed up the stairs in her bedchamber, Rupert had spent the next few minutes once again suitably thanking the butler for his timely intervention and expressing his gratitude for Pandora’s safety.

While the two men were talking, Rupert couldn’t help but notice that the number of boxes in the hallway had grown in number since yesterday, informing him that Pandora was continuing with her packing.

The fact that she had looked so young and vulnerable as she perched precariously upon that chair when he entered her bedchamber, and was dressed in a gown of the palest lemon with a matching ribbon threaded in her gold curls, had momentarily robbed Rupert of breath and speech as he tried to place this elegantly attired young woman with the wantonly naked one he had held in his arms last night and pleasured to an explosive release.

Looking up into her coolly smooth and beautiful face, he could still not quite believe he had made love with this woman only a few hours ago. ‘You left without so much as a goodbye.’ It was not at all what Rupert had intended to say, yet now that he had said it he was glad that he had. He was … disturbed that Pandora had left him, gone, disappeared, without so much as telling him where she was going or if she intended coming back.

Pandora turned away from that accusing silver gaze. ‘I thought it was what you wished me to do.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘And why should you have thought that?’

She shrugged. ‘The maid brought up my breakfast tray and informed me that you had gone out.’

‘And …?’

She gave an impatient shake of her head as she turned to frown down at him. ‘Surely it’s obvious?’

He raised those arrogant brows once again. ‘Not to me, no.’

‘Then you are singularly lacking in sensitivity, sir!’ Pandora informed him haughtily.

‘Because I chose to spend the time you were sleeping to go out and deal with several matters of business?’

She blinked. ‘Business?’

‘Business,’ he echoed grimly. ‘And would you kindly step down from that chair, Pandora; I am getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.’

She easily guessed that it was not a crick in the neck Rupert was suffering, but that he didn’t like having to look up at anyone! ‘I haven’t reached my glove as yet …’ She turned back to the task with renewed vigour, relieved not to be the focus of that critical silver gaze, if only for the few seconds it would take to reach her missing glove.

Yaş sınırı:
0+
Hacim:
3011 s. 3 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781474049535
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins
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