The Marquis de Fournier is a dandy of the ton by day, but under the moonlight he is a highwayman know as the Devil in Spurs. This night he rides a road of vengeance, and to stave his younger brother from the hangman's noose. He will do anything, including kidnapping Lady Ashlyn Findlater and her decrepit cat, Cyril. Only he gets more than he bargained for in this captive, for it's truly he who is caught in her web.
PEARL Award Nominee 2006 for story in Best Anthology
“Oh, Desdein, is this ravishing?”
His mouth released the hold oh her nipple to reply. He lifted her onto the bed, as he began to undress. “It is indeed.”
“Can a man ravish a woman more than once in a night?” she asked in seriousness.
His smile was predatory. “He can…should he enjoy it.”
“Will you…enjoy ravishing me, Desdein?”
As he pulled off his shirt, the sly minx leaned to him and her mouth latched onto his hard male nipple, her actions mimicking his. He sucked in a sharp breath to steady himself as his groin nearly exploded with the wildfire she set off in him. “Enjoy? Hmm, ah…yes…I think that is a distinct possibility. Enough! I cannot think with you doing that.”
He pushed her back on the bed, dancing on one foot then the other as he pulled off the jackboots. Ashlyn laughed and lay back on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes until he finally was naked. Putting a knee on the bed, he slid over her, careful to keep his weight on his elbows.
“Why are you laughing, you scatty woman?” He slid one of his legs between hers, pushing them apart, smiling at her lack of resistance.
She loosely wrapped her arms about his neck. “I think Aunt Dora’s comments on ravishment to be grossly misconstrued."
“Shall I teach you the right of it, my pet?”
Her radiant countenance, bathed in shadow and firelight, turned solemn. Her grey eyes stared into his, so open, so needing him. “Teach me, Desdein.”