Horace Harding

Wanting everyone

CHAPTER ONE

With the flowing sensuality of a pampered feline, Charolette crossed the room and reclined on the sofa. The black lace of her nightgown clung to her, emphasizing the voluptuous curves of her very womanly body. A slight toss of her head sent a cascade of flaming red hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"Jace," she whispered in a summons of sexual promise, "I'm ready."

Across the room, Jace Tuning turned. His eyes widened.

Charolette's fingers climbed to the plunging neckline of her gown.

With titillating languor, she pulled a single bow free. The gown fell open, exposing a broad valley of sleek flesh nestled between the two mountains of her opulently swollen breasts. That the peaks of those provocative knolls remained veiled between the gown's lace only accented the carnal feast she offered.

A pleased smile played at the corners of her full, red lips.

Long dark eyelashes coyly batted over her emerald-green eyes.

"Jace, you surprise me. I never suspected you to be shy."

The man in brilliant blue Elizabethan attire chuckled. A wicked grin moved over his lips and he cocked an eyebrow. "You taunting wench! Jace of the House of Tuning will demonstrate the error in your judgment of this man born of the blood."

A stallion with lusty fire racing in his veins, the black-haired man crossed the room. His gaze centered on the red-tressed temptress waiting on the couch. Her eyes flashed and her breasts heaved in a tremble of surprise.