Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

of being locked up alone anywhere in this crypt made her feel quite sick. She needed to retrace her steps back to where she was winning him over.
    “My lord, forgive me,” she said quietly. “You have offered me a home and a future.” His grip on her waist softened, though she was still acutely aware of sitting in his lap. “But please allow me the respectability of a decent gown of my own to marry in. Could you take Mrs. Brackett and me into York to buy something appropriate, do you think?” She paused and forced herself to look into his yellow eyes. “If you please, my lord.”
    He released her chin and his arm about her waist became a loose circle. “I have a good mind to say no.”
    “You have every reason to, my outburst was unacceptable. I apologize.” She dropped her eyes submissively.
    Taken off guard by her acquiescence, he assessed her openly.
    “Well, I suppose we could put the wedding off until Thursday or Friday. The vicar in Ravenscroft village has been ordered to be ready at any time for us.” He looked into her eyes, before saying decisively,
    “I’ll take you into York tomorrow. We will have to set out early as the drive takes three hours even with four horses.”
    She forced a smile. “Thank you, my lord, and will I have access to my inheritance?”
    “If you wish, but I will buy whatever you need, Evangeline.”
    “Your lordship is very good.”

    52
    Fyn Alexander
    He gave a little laugh, raising one eyebrow. “Only hours ago I was a heinous monster, a werewolf, possibly even a vampire.”
    Was he growing suspicious of her? “Yes, but your lordship must take my natural female nervousness into account. I thought I heard a scream, and it was very disconcerting. Of course I realize now it was only the wind, but you must understand, this castle is a daunting place to one not used to it. I was afraid.”
    “Of course you were, child.” His voice became suddenly very soothing, almost hypnotic. “Of course you were, dear girl.”
    Evangeline found she was no longer sitting tensely in his lap. She felt quite compliant, almost tranquil. Perhaps Raven was exerting some strange force over her, mesmerism or whatever it was called.
    Again he took her chin, softly this time. Gently he drew her face close to his. He opened his mouth a little before he closed it over hers.
    The coldness she had experienced in the carriage was not there now. His lips and tongue were warm upon hers. He tasted of wine, a dry crisp taste she found enticing. Shocked at her own daring and at her sudden fiery desire, Evangeline opened her mouth and received his tongue hungrily. Hot liquid warmth shot through her cunt, electrifying and appalling her at the same time. She found herself sucking on his mouth, drawing him to her.
    It took all her force of will to draw back, both excited and repulsed. Raven’s eyes gleamed in the firelight and he smiled baring straight, white teeth. When he leaned over her again, wanting more, his long shining hair fell forward over his shoulders. “No,” she gasped, afraid of what she had done and the sensations this strange man aroused. “No!”
    A servant appeared silently out of the shadows and Evangeline flushed with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position. She struggled to rise. With a frown Raven prevented her, holding her still. “Wine,” he demanded and was served at once.
    “Miss Rutledge?” the footman inquired, looking at her as though nothing were amiss.

    Sanguinarian 53
    “Not for me, thank you.” She could not meet the servant’s eyes. A moment ago she had begun to feel quite comfortable. Now, as if a spell had been broken, she was mortified. Her behaviour confused and embarrassed her.
    “Shall I serve the final course, my lord?”
    “In a few minutes.” The footman bowed and knelt by the fire, taking up the coal shovel to clean up the glass. “Later!” Raven said.
    The footman hurried from the chamber.
    “I think I had better get up,” she whispered and tried to move, but could not. Raven put his wine glass to her lips. She shook her head.
    Transferring the glass to his other hand he unexpectedly and without pause placed the hand over one breast and squeezed.
    Evangeline cried out and raised her hand to slap him before thinking better of it. “Very wise,” he whispered, continuing a gentle pressure. “You learn quickly, my dear.” Her nipple hardened, becoming visible through her wool gown. Her embarrassment was compounded by