An Intruder in Waiting
An eye for a pretty lady and a rogue at heart, Joshua Ford still has his standards, which does not include bedding a dance hall girl—even if she is a tempting enchantress with yellow-gold hair!
Tired of the company of the painted dancehall girls Josh called it a night, heading across the street to the hotel. Entering his room he’s taken aback—the golden haired singer from the Gilded Lady is in his bed.
If she thinks I’m about to pay her for a tumble, forget it! He fumed. Moving across the room in a flash he went to reach for her ankles to drag her from his bed, the sight of her tiny perfect little feet with colored toe-nails, infuriating him further. Painted toenails! And where in God’s name are her stockings?
Just as he reached for the girl’s ankles she turned toward him, the golden cast of the moon’s light illuminating her. My God she looks so young, he thought, his breath catching in his throat.
I’ll not be tricked by the moon’s magic, he thought. She’s still a dancehall girl and I’ll be damn if I touch her, except to drag her from my bed. Her lashes fluttered a soft breath escaped. His not hers. She was beautiful.
She’s a dancehall girl, a painted lady, just look at her toes! He reminded himself, all the while longing to feel her stream of golden hair drape across his body, her full red lips locked in a kiss. He reached for her, only wanting to feel her glorious hair, but one touch led to another and before he knew it he was in bed with the sleeping beauty, unable to control his desire. Tonight he would break his rule. He knew he would explore the treasures that lay beneath her flimsy dress, knew he would continue until sated.
Charity woke in a panic, someone was mauling her and she had to get away.
“Settle down wildcat,” an unfamiliar voice said. “This is what you came to my room for, isn’t it?” He said, silencing her with a kiss.