The son of an English Lord and a Gypsy Princess, Tristan Deveraux has made his gift o telepathy bearable by helping wounded soldiers on the battlefields of Spain. But his commanding officer suspects Tristan's ability, and forces him to escort a brilliant scientist and his niece back to England.
With her uncle's life in danger, Emily Durbin is shocked by the small company of men assigned to them, especially the handsome, enigmatic surgeon who seems to read her every thought--and invades her dreams with promises of a passion stronger than she has ever known...
But someone is desperate to kill the scientist and possess Emily at all costs. With an enemy in their midst, Tristan and Emily embark on a perilous journey home, and an even more dangerous one into the deepest reaches of the mind--and heart...
Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would be like to hold her in his arms and feel her delicious nearness. Her body would vibrate against his chest—a constant, steady throb of her heart would set his own pulse racing. If he tried, he could feel her breaths blowing out in small puffs of air, inviting him, caressing him. Tristan felt himself being pulled to her, a siren’s song promising sweet intimacies he had only heard of but had never experienced.
It was too easy to be pulled along by her sweet presence. Unable to resist any longer, he let his thoughts travel closer, until his mind was on the verge of touching hers.
The idea of slipping into her mind both intrigued and frightened him. He should have known better. This path could only lead to his destruction. It should have frightened him enough to make him turn away. It would have, but another, stronger emotion took hold. Loneliness pushed him over the edge of abandon.
Emily stirred in her sleep. She was wrapped in a dream. Mr. Deveraux had just arrived at their country home, bedecked in a full evening suit, sporting a smile, and holding his arms out to her. Laughing, she accepted his offer and the two set off toward a waiting carriage.
"You know, although I had doubted you at first, I never would have believed it possible."
“What is that, my dear?” She asked.
"That you could ever love me."
Then he kissed her.
Except, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a melding of two bodies, man and woman. Heat stirring between them—warm, soft body against strong, lean muscle and bone. A woman’s rounded curves and a man’s square, flat planes. Flesh against flesh. Heat becoming fire. Desire becoming an all consuming need.
His hands seared titillating paths down her shoulders and back, his wide chest pressed against her and his entire body throbbing with a need that Emily neither denied nor understood. It was simply wanting.
It was him.
It was her.
It was energy of a lighting strike and calm waters of a still pond, it was knowing that they two were meant for each other.
For the briefest of seconds they paused. She opened her eyes, though she needn’t have done so. He wore an expression of wonder and lust, of admiration, and love. A wide, slow grin grew on his face. It spoke of secrets shared, of choices made.
He leaned forward until his breath caressed her cheek.
“You are mine.”
“Yes.” She barely breathed.
Emily Durbin, proper, matronly, woman that she was, abandoned it all for the touch of a man. But not just any man, she realized.
Him.
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