The Prisoner (38 page)

Genevieve sighed and twined her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the hardness of his arousal pressing against her as he worshiped her. Honeyed heat began to course through her veins, causing her to shift restlessly beneath him. His hand trailed up the length of her thighs and into the opening of her undergarment.

“Did you hear me, Genevieve?” he asked, slipping his fingers inside her.

“Yes!” she gasped.

“Given your penchant for rescuing urchins,” Haydon reflected, languidly stroking her as he rained kisses across the warm satin sheet of her skin, “and the amount of time I intend to devote to showing you just how much I love you, we are apt to have a ridiculously large family.” He paused in his ministrations and gave her a teasing grin.

“Fortunately, I adore large families,” returned Genevieve, unfastening his trousers. She peeled them down the sculpted muscles of his legs, then slid off her hooped petticoat and her drawers before lying back down before the fire. “Does your estate have a fair number of bedchambers?”

Haydon shrugged out of his coat and shirt and stretched naked over her, pushing the froth of her skirts up to her hips as he positioned himself between her legs.

“I believe it has enough to suffice for a time, should you decide you would like to live there. Once we have them all filled, we can always look for something larger.”

“How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Eighteen.” He smiled as her eyes widened in astonishment. “Thirty-four if you count the servants' quarters. Do you think you can fill all of them?”

“I can certainly try.” She raised her hips and pulled him down into her, sheathing him tightly within her hot clasp.

“Jesus.” His face contorted with effort as he fought to regain his control.

“Come, my lord,” said Genevieve, flexing impatiently beneath him. “I do believe I shall require your assistance in this matter.”

Haydon managed a strangled laugh. “As you wish, my love. I am, and forever will be, your prisoner.”

He lowered his head and kissed her deeply, feeling his heart grow whole and the scars of his past fade as they pulsed together in the amber flicker of firelight.

K
ARYN
M
ONK
has been writing since she was a girl. In university she discovered a love for history. After several years working in the highly charged world of advertising, she turned to writing historical romance. She is married to a wonderfully romantic husband, Philip, who she allows to believe is the model for her heroes.

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“Karyn Monk is a remarkable new voice in historical romance.”

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bestselling author Jane Feather

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“Sit back and enjoy it.”

—The Oakland Press

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“Monk spins a fascinating, readable story of passion and magic that will charm readers who like their historicals laced with humor and appealing characters.”

—Library Journal

“An enchanting and delightful read.”

—Rocky Mountain News

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“Monk grips the reader with her powerful images of Scotland and of war, witty dialogue, strong characters, and Arthurian undertones.”

—Publishers Weekly

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A Bantam Book / June
2001

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©
2001
by Karyn Monk.

Cover art by Franco Accornero.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
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without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.

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eISBN: 978-0-553-90324-9

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