When the overindulged son of a duke meets a feisty bohemian beauty, two opposite worlds collide. But it doesn't matter how ill-suited they are for one another, Aiden and Amalia can't prevent their feelings from growing.
• • •
England, 1790.
Aiden La...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Stabat Mater, P.77: 1. "Stabat Mater Dolorosa", by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Aiden tried to assess the situation the best he could, having a hard time processing all the thoughts that wreaked havoc in his mind.
As soon as the door had opened, he had let go of Amalia. And with his body, he was still hiding her while she adjusted the cleavage of her dress. Despite the dim lighting of the room, their proximity and disheveled states left no doubts as to what had happened here. With the concupiscent way the intruder was looking at them, Aiden worried Clifford had seen more of her than he was comfortable with.
The man was a known libertine, and such men usually knew how to keep that sort of secret. Rakes had to look out for one another. Nevertheless, Aiden couldn't be certain that his moment with Amalia wouldn't be made public.
She was done fixing her decolletage when a concupiscent look formed on the man's face. "The others and I have been wondering why you were so protective of this bohemian girl the entire evening. Now I get it. You wanted to take your turn with her before any of us did! I understand, my friend. If that's fine with you, I'll go second. Just like you, I dislike coming after everyo—"
Aiden didn't let him finish his loathsome comments. In three strides, he was by Clifford's side. He grabbed him by the collar, brutally shoving him into the wall.
"You will hold your bloody tongue, Clifford! I won't let you disrespect the lady," he threatened, his voice so low it resembled a growl.
"The lady? This is a bohemian whore! She would spread her legs for a few pennies!"
Seeing red, Aiden squeezed harder around his throat, suffocating him. He would make him regret his words, despising the idea of Amalia's honor being so loathsomely degraded. As if he'd conjured her presence, she was suddenly by his side, her hand soothingly wrapping around his forearm.
"Let go of him, Aiden," she implored him. "He isn't worth it."
Although he heard the words, he ignored them. This cockroach had to pay for his offenses. Clifford tried to talk, but Aiden pressed even harder, refusing to hear whatever he wanted to utter. The maggot's face turned blue, but it still wasn't enough to force Aiden to let go. By his side, Amalia insisted, trying to pull his arm away. With a calming voice, she kept talking to him, and Aiden's rage decreased slowly. Eventually, he loosened his grip, allowing the man to breathe again.
