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If Freddie tried to sew, she’d probably wind up as bloody as if she’d fought Napoleon.
Harker descended on her.
Im pretty sure hes the french spy not the british spy.. hes too disgusting to be british and he wouldnt take advantage of them like this if he was.
Their eyes locked. A strange tightness clamped over Tristan’s chest. He couldn’t look away. From this distance, he couldn’t make out the color of her eyes. At that moment, he’d never wanted to know such a banal piece of information more.
In answer, a sly look crossed Lucy’s face. “Between the two of us, I think we should be able to find someone who will suit her.
“Ladies.” A frisson of awareness leaped up her spine at the deep, male baritone. Freddie spun. Her breath caught in her throat as she came face to face with the man responsible. Tristan Graylocke.
stood on her other side. They’d cornered her.
Hehehe
Blast! He’d noticed her clumsiness.
He bent, ghosting his lips across Freddie’s knuckles. An antiquated gesture. One that made her hand tingle as if she’d stuck it in a bush full of nettles. He lifted his gaze to find hers. His eyes weren’t black, as she’d originally thought, but a deep velvety brown. Her heartbeat stuttered. The world spun around them, Lord Graylocke—Tristan—her only anchor.
He stared at her as if he knew exactly what she meant to do—with a fierce determination to stop her.
Bizarre, in Freddie’s opinion. One brother in the navy, but two others spies for France?
Doesn't add up
If Britain had had two such tenacious generals on the front lines, Napoleon would have already surrendered.
“Freddie also plays chess.” She leaned closer to Lucy with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll wager that my sister can trounce your brother.” Lucy took up the cause with an abundance of enthusiasm. “Oh, yes. Let’s have a tournament and find out!”
Oh i love them
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, a tight, disapproving line. As she watched, the set of his mouth softened. How rough would his stubble feel? She clenched her jaw. What was wrong with her? He was the enemy, a traitor.
At least this room didn’t contain a larger-than-life portrait of Lord Graylocke. If Freddie had had to be subjected to his shrewd gaze while she searched his room, she might have swooned.
“Maybe this will help.” He canted his head and pressed his lips against hers.
Wow this scene is hot hot
“Tristan, give the poor woman a break. You’ve been at it for hours.”
Wink wink
His stomach flipped at the sight of her.
He’d never seen the appeal of having a wife, but if most men were as enamored with the thought of finding themselves alone with their wives as Tristan was with Freddie, then maybe the concept had merit. Lud, had he just considered marrying Freddie?
Yeeesss
“You like her, she likes you. Talk about it! I’ll let you out when you agree to marry.”
Girllll hahahaha
he captured her hand with his free one and lifted it to his lips. “You, my dear, are brilliant.”
“You don’t even like me!” Gravity befell him. “To the contrary. I like you a great deal.” His voice was soft.
She liked him too, a great deal. More than she had any other man. And certainly much more than she ought to.
‘Like’ wasn’t a strong enough word for the depth of his feelings.
Heaven help him, but somehow in the last few days, he’d fallen in love.
“You taste like Heaven,” he murmured. She smirked. “Have you tasted Heaven before?” “Never. But I don’t need to in order to know that nothing on this Earth could taste as good.”
Freddie was nestled beside him, his arm slung around her waist as he fitted her against him. She didn’t want to leave.
Imma cry bro they are so cute
With a light touch, she traced the curve of his cheek. Making a sleepy noise, he leaned into her touch, as if he craved more of her.
I love this boook
