By Julie Garwood
A toddler bride, Sara Winchester had grown right into a winsome attractiveness, joyfully awaiting the day whilst her husband Nathan, Marquess of St. James, might go back to say her middle eventually. Charmingly blameless, she brushed off the traditional feud that divided Nathan's relatives from her own...and she was once completely ignorant of his previous exploits because the infamous pirate, Pagan. the fellow who now stood sooner than her used to be difficult, smug and powerfully handsome...a warrior-gentleman whose light contact aroused her to the wildest, inner most pleasures of affection.
Nathan had by no means bared his soul to any girl, yet he used to be quickly totally beguiled and exasperated via Sara's candy, defiant methods. Aboard his send, The Seahawk, she used to be courageous, imperious and made up our minds to win his middle thoroughly -- but upon their go back to England, her love will be sorely proven as a vile conspiracy attempted to rip them aside. With their destiny at stake, they'd detect the real future in their passion...for all time!
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Extra resources for The Gift
He crooked his finger at her back. “Come to me. ” His voice used to be deep, commanding, smug. God support her, she all started jogging towards him. after which all hell broke free. The sound of the whip cracking within the air, the scream of soreness from the idiot who attempted to the touch her as she moved earlier him echoed in Sara’s ears. She by no means seemed towards the commotion. Her gaze used to be locked at the guy who used to be methodically destroying the tavern. He made it glance really easy. an easy turn of his wrist that didn’t appear to expense him the smallest amount of attempt made one of these lasting influence on his viewers. She additionally spotted that the nearer she obtained to him, the deeper his scowl turned. The warlord evidently wasn’t in a superb temper. She determined to humor him until eventually she may perhaps regain her composure. Then she was once going to run outdoor, leap into the hack with Nora, and race to the waterfront. It used to be a superb plan, she informed herself. the matter, after all, used to be getting the Viking clear of the door first. She learned she’d stopped to stare at him back whilst he motioned for her to maneuver. She felt a restraining hand on her shoulder, glanced down at it, then heard the crack of the whip. Sara used to be all at once in complete flight. She ran to him, made up our minds to get there prior to her middle thoroughly failed her. She got here to a swaying cease at once in entrance of him, tilted her head again, and stared up at these piercing eco-friendly eyes until eventually he ultimately appeared down at her. On impulse she reached out and pinched his arm simply to verify he quite wasn’t a figment of her mind's eye. He was once actual, okay. His dermis felt like metal, yet hot metal. The glance in these appealing eyes kept her from madness, notwithstanding. the colour was once hypnotizing, excessive. extraordinary, however the longer she stared at him, the more secure she felt. She smiled with acute reduction. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I knew you weren’t a villain, Viking. ” Sara was once abruptly weightless. She felt as if she have been floating via a depressing tunnel and on her manner towards the bronzed Viking status within the sunlight. Nathan stuck her prior to she hit the ground. His bride used to be in a whole faint while he tossed her over his shoulder. He scanned the tavern for any leftovers he may need overlooked. there have been our bodies everywhere in the wood flooring. That wasn’t more than enough, he inspiration. He had a virtually overwhelming urge to mark the bastard uncle who used to be cowering less than the desk. He may listen the choked sobs coming from the fellow. Nathan kicked the desk around the room as a way to see his prey. “Do you recognize who i'm, Winchester? ” Henry used to be locked in fetal place. while he shook his head his jowls rubbed from side to side opposed to the floorboards. “Look at me, bastard. ” His voice seemed like thunder. Henry seemed up. “I’m the marquess of St. James. if you happen to ever come close to my spouse or that previous girl, I’ll kill you. can we comprehend one another? ” “You’re . . . him? ” The bile had risen in Henry’s throat, making speech approximately very unlikely. He begun gagging. Nathan gave him a legitimate shove with the top of his boot, then grew to become and walked out of the tavern.