All the Sweet Tomorrows

cherie. I won't hurt you, I swear it!'

Skye looked into Henri of Navarre's amber-brown eyes, and knew that nothing she might say would divert the young King from his path of seduction. She was helpless before his lust, and the best that she could hope for was that he was telling the truth, and would not hurt her. He would, however, get nothing from her. She would lie quietly while he had his way with her, and she hoped he would be quick. They were leaving court and Paris tomorrow, and she would never see him again. Adam would never have to know. Skye was ashamed of her final thought, but she would not hurt the man she loved with this tale when there was no need.

'Will you untie my hands, monseigneur? My arms are numb and I am most uncomfortable. I promise not to fight you.'

Reaching behind her, Henri undid the silken cord by which she had been held fast, and Skye rubbed her arms, which ached painfully as the blood began to flow back into them. In freeing her he had taken the opportunity to remove her blouse entirely, and now, to her surprise, he pushed her back onto the pillows, drew her arms above her head, and retied them quickly.

'I’m sorry, cherie,' he said, genuine regret in his voice, 'but despite your vow, I know that your natural morality will cause you to defend your virtue against me. I have far better uses for my hands at this time than fending off your blows.' Standing up again, the King finished undressing.

Skye assessed him from beneath lowered eyelids. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Adam, and he was big- boned. If anything, he erred on the side of thinness, which gave him an awkward appearance, and she noted quickly as he climbed onto the bed with her he had huge feet. His hands, however, were big, slender, and very elegant, she saw as he drew her petticoat off her and caressed her hip.

He was gentle and soft in his leisurely exploration of her body. 'How lovely you are,' he said quietly. 'You have skin like the finest silk, but I suspect I am not the first man to make that comparison. Still, I have never known a woman with such fine skin, cherie. It has an almost druglike effect upon me.' He bent down and began to kiss her breasts, his lips scorching the tender nipples with their fiery touch. 'Mon Dieu, cherie, but you are perfection!'

Damn him, Skye thought furiously as a tiny quiver rippled through her. He is an expert lover, and he is not going to devour me like a piece of cheese, but rather go slowly until I can no longer bear it, the bastard! The King's mouth closed fiercely over her left nipple, where it sucked hungrily, forcing a small cry from between her lips. Instantly he lifted his head.

'You like that, cherie? You must tell me what pleases you.'

'I care not what you do,' she replied coldly. 'It matters not.'

'What a little liar you are, cherie. Do you think that you can hold back your passion from me? You're too honest a woman,' he laughed softly. 'Soon, ma belle, soon,' he whispered into her ear, 'soon you will lie beneath me crying with your pleasure. You are one of those deliciously rare creatures born for loving, and I am a man who was born to love women! We will be incredible together!' Then his mouth left a trail of kisses down her straining throat before moving upward to capture her lips with his own.

He kissed her with an expertise born of much practice, forcing her own lips apart with the pressure of his. His tongue leapt forward to plunder within her mouth, tasting of her greedily, slid beneath her upper lip along her teeth leaving the scent of mint wherever he touched her. It swirled around her mouth to sweep downward, and Skye felt the first stirrings of desire awakening within her. She despised herself for her weakness. With an angry cry she tore her head away from him, hissing furiously, 'You bastard! Have me and be done with it!'

He looked down at her, his amber eyes dancing devilishly, and then he laughed. 'So, cherie, you begin to feel it, too.'

'I feel nothing,' she snarled back at him.

'I can feel you quivering, ma belle. Oh, it is very faint, and very deep down, but I am sensitive to such things.'

'I am not sure, monseigneur, which is bigger, your imagination or your opinion of yourself!' she said scathingly.

Again he laughed. 'Neither, cherie, as you will soon discover, for I possess an altogether larger part, and already it grows hungry for the taste of your wonderful body.' Straddling her easily, he bent and again began to taunt her nipples with his tongue, nipping, licking, and sucking teasingly until she thought she would shriek with the pleasure that began to tug at her.

'I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!' Skye muttered the litany as she cursed her treacherous body, which was beginning to respond shamelessly to his ardent suit. Skye knew what she felt was lust, but she nonetheless was angry at herself that she could not prevent the delicious stirrings within herself.

What was worse was that he knew what she both felt and thought. The amber eyes looked mockingly down at her, daring her to deny the truth. With a sob Skye turned her head away from his gaze, hating him even more for his gentle tone as he soothed her distress. 'No, ma