Beijing Review Vol. 53 No. 47 Nov. 25, 2010 by Beijing Review

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Additional resources for Beijing Review Vol. 53 No. 47 Nov. 25, 2010

Sample text

Considering what he had been through, he felt reasonably fit and well. He’d bathed, eaten, and rested, and apart from a few bruises, he felt restored to almost new. He was looking forward to dinner with the Jardine family. Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down with a respectable family. Usually, in houses like this, he would be let in the back door and asked to wait in some out-of-the-way corner until he was given his instructions. The master of the house would be loath to allow him close to his womenfolk, in case he contaminated them, and if he was introduced it was usually because the women had insisted on meeting the infamous Mr.

Wanted it as much as she’d ever wanted anything. A shiver ran through her now at the memory of his lips on hers, of his body pressed to hers. Oh yes, it had certainly lived up to expectations. And it wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed before—several times she had been the unwilling recipient of the attentions of smitten young men. But nothing could compare to Sebastian Thorne’s kiss. She felt as if he’d opened up a door inside her, and she was having difficulty closing it. But close it she must.

She knew she couldn’t risk another second of his closeness. ” The pause seemed to last forever, and it was only as he moved away, slowly, as if he was acting against his inclination, that Francesca knew she was safe. Not just from him, but also from the dangerous hunger he stirred within her. He swayed as he stood up, before he found his footing. Francesca’s gaze traveled over him—she couldn’t help it. He was still wearing his riding boots. Long, well-muscled legs in breeches caked with the muck of the mire, narrow hips, and a shirt that had once been white beneath a brown jacket.

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