tion id="uc4964275-a54c-5823-949b-ba75dd395a94">
“So do we enter into a contract, my king?”
“You still think you have a choice, don’t you?” he said, cocking one brow at her. “Are you always this optimistic?”
“I always have a choice,” she replied.
She sensed rather than heard him as he came and stood behind her. Was it her imagination or did she feel the heat of his breath against her naked skin? A shimmer of awareness crept over her body.
“Then you are indeed fortunate,” he said close to the shell of her ear.
His voice held a whisper of a thousand words left unsaid. Ottavia closed her eyes and concentrated on remaining still. On simply absorbing his nearness and trying to separate out the individual reactions her body clamored with.
“A king does not have many choices,” he said, exposing a surprising insight into his mind.
***
Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride is part of the Courtesan Brides duet: Her pleasure is at his command!
Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride
Yvonne Lindsay
A typical Piscean, USA TODAY bestselling author YVONNE LINDSAY has always preferred her imagination to the real world. Married to her blind-date hero and with two adult children, she spends her days crafting the stories of her heart and in her spare time she can be found with her nose in a book reliving the power of love, or knitting socks and daydreaming. Contact her via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.
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To my Writers in the Wild buddies,
and to Soraya Lane, with grateful thanks
for all your support and, at times
(yes, I’m looking at you, Soraya!),
goading and bullying, all of which get
me to “The End” with a happy sigh.
Contents
He was here.
She knew it by the way the energy inside the tranquil island castle shifted and switched up a gear. Ottavia smoothed her gown over her curves for the fifteenth time that afternoon and told herself again that she wasn’t nervous. Not really. In her profession as a courtesan, she was accustomed to dealing with powerful men. Dealing with a king couldn’t truly be that different...could it?
The exquisite French Charles X ormolu clock on the mantelpiece continued to tick quietly, marking the seconds as they dragged by. But thankfully,
