DeliveredIntoHisHands Read Online Free PDF Page B

he wanted to throw his arms around her in gratitude.
    “Algés,” he whispered.
    “Of course,” she said.
    He heard the door open and close and the
silence was deafening.
    And he desperately missed her presence in
the room with him. By the time she came back—with a man who smelled strongly of
tobacco—he was all but crawling up the walls with anxiety.
    “Don’t you ever leave me again,” he asked,
prying one eye open. “Never again.”
    “The Lady Antonia cannot stay in your room
with you, milord,” the man said. “That is not permitted.”
    “Lady?” he questioned. The man was hovering
over him and the glint of metal told him he held a vac-syringe.
    “Turn your head, milord.”
    Garrick craved to see her but she was
hidden behind the one he realized was a healer and one who had very little
patience. Instead of allowing him to turn his head in his own time, the healer
simply pushed his face to the side. The hot sting of the algés entering his
vein made Garrick yelp.
    “Don’t hurt him,” he heard her say. “He’s
been hurt enough.”
    Those words brought back the memory of the sun
with stunning clarity and he remembered the agony of being staked, the gentle eyes
that had saved him, and he knew where he was.
    “Castle Blackthorn,” he whispered.
    “Aye, that is where you are,” the healer
said. “Now let the drug take effect. Lady Antonia, come with me.”
    “No!” he said, struggling to raise his hand
but already the painkiller was wrapping its arms around him. His eyelids closed
though he strove hard to keep them open.
    “It is all right, Healer Frye. He is my
Chosen,” the woman he knew was named Antonia said. “I will stay with him until
he falls asleep.”
    “Then I too will stay,” the healer said in
an angry tone.
    He felt the bed dip and knew she had sat
down beside him. The drug had him now. Movement of any kind was out of the
question. He felt her hand on his brow—easing aside a lock of hair.
    “Sleep,” she said.
    As he began to tumble into the darkness he
heard the healer mumble something.
    “Aye,” she said. “He may be our enemy but
he is my Chosen whether that pleases me or not.”
    * * * * *
    Antonia could not get the image of the
warrior out of her mind. When she had found him sitting on the edge of the
bed—his naked body twisted to the side as he threw up—her gaze had gone of its
own accord to the juncture of his muscled thighs. What she had seen nestled
there had shaken her. She was not ignorant of male anatomy but she had never
seen a man’s appendage before.
    And certainly not up close and personal as
she had the warrior’s.
    Her face flamed as she remembered that
long, thick shaft. Though the room was dark, the warrior—because of the Vampire
side of his DNA—was pale. His flesh stood out in the dim light against the
black silk sheets.
    As did his shaft.
    “Sweet Sibylline,” she said, putting a
trembling hand to her lips.
    He was huge, she thought. Surely such a
thing could not fit between her own legs. Could not enter her body without a
great deal of pain or at least much discomfort.
    A hard shudder ran through her.
    Though her mother had given her The Talk
when she came of age, Antonia had learned more from Cherise, her Serenian
lady’s maid, than from her sedate, embarrassed mother.
    “A man’s cock is a delightful thing,
milady,” Cherise told her. “It’ll do things to you that will curl your toes
right out of your slippers! Gain dominion over his cock and you’ve gained
dominion over the man.”
    If she hadn’t feared him before she sneaked
into his room, she certainly did now.
    * * * * *
    “I am Baron Demas Blackthorn,” the
middle-aged gentleman stated. He was a portly man with a shock of thick white
hair that curled around his head like a fleecy cloud. In the light from the
bedside lamp his eyes were bloodshot and hooded. “I hope I have not come too
early of the eve.”
    “I’ve been awake for an hour or so,”
Garrick