Download PDF by Dawn Thompson: The Waterlord
By Dawn Thompson
Woman Rebecca’s existence replaced endlessly within the blink of a watch. One second she used to be fleeing her father throughout a storm-swept Bodmin Moor; within the subsequent, her carriage overturned on a steep gorge. yet she didn't die. in some way, she used to be pulled clear.
Safety, her rescuer promised. yet how may perhaps Becca think secure? there has been an eerie luminosity approximately him, a fluid silver air of mystery just like the lightning filling the evening. And whereas his voice used to be deep, mellow—comforting, just like the track a move made whereas dashing over pebbles—it, too, held a touch of the otherworldly. Who was once this unusual savior, this displaced overseas nobleman who provided up his domestic and didn't wish her to go away? lengthy moonlit walks to the within reach waterfall, tight-lipped servants, a kiss not like the other: every little thing concerning the count number was once an enigma. Becca had heard myths of the Fossegrim: creatures pushed to discover ecstasy with human girls after which vanish without end. From their global, people by no means lower back. This guy, Becca was once prepared to follow.
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Extra resources for The Waterlord
No one had ever called her precious before. That involuntary flutter started deep inside her again, sending a flurry of Shockwaves rippling through her most private regions. She shifted uneasily in the chair in a vain attempt to quell the feeling. When she braved a glance in his direction, his warm smile broadened. He looked like a little boy who had just been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. Embarrassed through she was, her heart threatened to melt. "O-oh," she murmured, swallowing a dry gulp.
That was obvious. It seemed almost sacred, the way Nature seemed to bow in awe. Not even the woodland creatures spoke. All was still, until a twig snapped beneath her feet. Becca stood stock still as Klaus stopped and turned, his head cocked, his ears pricked to the sound, affording her an unexpected and alarming view of his manhood. She checked a gasp. How magnificent he was! Even in a flaccid state, and at such a distance. She held her breath and didn't draw another until he turned back and moved on again.
She hadn't wanted to admit it before, but there was an endearing quality about him that was hard to resist — especially for one such as she, who had virtually no experience with members of the opposite sex. Perhaps it was his foreign charm, or that he was the first man to treat her with such gallantry. Or was it the elusive sadness that she'd glimpsed in those penetrating eyes? Whatever it was, something shocking throbbed deep inside her whenever he spoke, whenever she met his riveting gaze. He was having a dangerous effect upon her, and she made a bold attempt to steel herself against the lure of his charm.
The Waterlord by Dawn Thompson