![]() ![]() She selected earrings, and a sparkling diamond necklace that was worth more than most of her customers would see in their lifetimes. Layers of crinolines and petticoats came next, and once she’d fastened them, she walked to her dressing table and sat before the mirror, applying a slight hint of rouge to her high cheekbones, then repeating the color in darker tones to her lips. The ritual of dressing eased her nerves, as it always did, and her spirits lifted as she closed the hooks on her corset and carefully tugged free the hand-woven froth of lace that decorated her chemise. She slipped the silk dressing gown off her shoulders and reached for the soft, ribbon-trimmed cotton drawers. ![]() She’d laid out her clothes before bathing, a custom she often found soothing. With a barely audible sigh, Chantille pushed herself from a casual slouch against the window-frame and went to her bed. The quality was another wasted effort on her part, though she steadfastly refused to compromise it. They cared only about the quantity of drink and companionship that was to be found at The Palace. Her money and family meant nothing to the hordes of men who flocked to her place of business. She’d arrived in San Francisco several years ago, bright-eyed and determined to be 1 The scents and sounds of the Barbary Coast wafted up to her, assaulting her senses now where they had once caressed. Those dictates had done their part to age her spirit well beyond her twentyfive years of life. She’d resented it, deeply, and because of it, she’d made choices that weighed heavily on her. Born in the midst of that conflict, Chantille had never enjoyed the peace and happiness her parents had known in their youth. The world her parents spoke about with such longing life before the Civil War had torn everything to pieces. For several more moments, Chantille L’Amour delayed the increasingly wearisome task of her work and allowed her heart to pine for a simpler world in which to live. The last, faint rays of the glowing afternoon were giving way to the steady encroachment of evening as she stared out at the glittering, sundappled beauty of San Francisco Bay. PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Bridger ISBN 1-59279-425-4Cover Art © 2005 Trace Edward Zaber No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. ![]() Amber Quill Press, LLC All rights reserved. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. THE TASTE OF SEDUCTION AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. BRIDGER 1-900-SURPRISE! Alchemy Blood Wine And Pale Roses The Darkest Place Dayne Destiny Met Heart Of Stone The Hunt Masquerade Out Of Hell Perdition The Phantom’s Lair Rogues A Safer Haven Silent Death Sky-Hawke Storm-Singer The Taste Of Seduction An Unspoken Betrayal Western Knights Whom Gods Have Favored Winner Take All A World In Darkness Standish.” “But the times it doesn’t are so sweet it makes the disappointments bearable, Miss L’Amour.”ĪLSO BY DENYSE M. “Hope at last.” “Hope has a way of disappearing just when you’re learning to count on it, Mr. “Are you certain I can’t change your mind about dinner?” “Not entirely,” she conceded with a smile that wanted to become laughter. The gleam of amusement in the deep green eyes that bored into her was irritating, and intriguing. Standish,” she said, tone cool, “money is all you will be collecting in this office.” Austin continued uninterrupted into the small room, until he was directly in front of her and she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. She arched one eyebrow in subtle surprise when he closed the door behind them. She walked away from the bar and led him into her office. Standish?” “If you can’t be persuaded to grant me your company, then I’ll have to settle for your money.” “You’re far too charming to suffer loneliness,” she countered. “Have you come to collect your winnings, Mr. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?” “Thank you, no,” she replied. “Miss L’Amour.” Austin smiled when he reached her side. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |