Free Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 by Joely Sue Burkhart Page B

desire. If she hadn’t wanted us, do you think Charlie would have had any hesitation in telling us so? You had a knife to her heart yesterday and she didn’t even flinch. If she didn’t want you to put your hands on her rough and hard she would have ripped your cock off instead of sucking it.”
    “She’s a lady.”
    The other man stared at him as if he’d suddenly started speaking Razari.
    Talking through gritted teeth was damned hard. “She’s the same as our lady wife, the Duchess of her House, whether the Queen recognizes her thusly or not. One does not treat a Duchess like a common tavern wench and hope to remain intact.”
    “Is that honestly what you think?” When Sig could only stare at him in confusion, Masters shook his head. “Damn, man. I thought you understood her better than that.”
    “I lost my head. That’s my only excuse. I’ve been on edge and when I saw those chains, and those clamps…”
    Not a good idea to talk about it. His erection strained to be free, so he could take her again, as rough and hard and fast as he could slam into her.
    “She wanted you to lose your head. She wanted you to lose control. That’s why she dragged us into that shop. That’s why she bought the gifts. That’s why she’s interested in trying that flail. She loves us so much she’s willing to give up her own control and explore anything, everything we could ever desire. Why would you regret that kind of gift?”
    Sig’s pulse thumped so hard in his head he couldn’t think. He couldn’t come up with the words to explain himself. Why the idea of the calmest, smartest lady, with enough daring to stand up to the most powerful woman in the known universe, making herself less, giving up her control, to the likes of him…
    Masters shook him by his shoulders. Stunned, Sig jerked his gaze up to the man, unaware he’d even stood and approached. “A gift, man. A woman like her doesn’t show that kind of vulnerability to just anyone. She doesn’t give that kind of trust to a man she doesn’t love beyond any shadow of a doubt. Don’t spoil it by regretting the passion and the magic we shared last night.”
    “But—”
    “A gift,” he repeated. “Treasure it. Explore it. That was just the beginning.”
    Sig nodded so the man would let him go, but his heart weighed heavier as he dragged back to his own room. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

Chapter Seven
    It was amazing how many glorious gowns could be handcrafted in a matter of hours when thirty of the finest seamstresses plied their needles around the clock. Surveying the racks, Charlotte was mentally planning which gown she would wear to be introduced to the Emperor the first time. It must make a statement. It must be unforgettable.
    To match her dreadfully legendary reputation as Lady Doctor Wyre.Someone wanted her dead before she could enter the Forbidden City. So she intended to play the part of the wildly dangerous and extravagant Britannian lady with her utmost ability.
    So which gown would showcase her most extravagant personality?
    She honestly couldn’t decide, which irritated her to no end. Once upon a time, she’d chosen what styles and fashions anyone of consequence would then copy throughout the Season. She’d decided if feathers would be worn in the hair or if they would be the height of gauche stupidity. Red or blue or lavender, lace or velvet, jeweled slippers or heels, fans or shawls… The enormous responsibility to set the fashion had been hers and she’d relished every moment of it.
    Now she was as nervous and anxious as a debutante going to her first ball.
    There really was only one thing to do when becoming anxious, so she made a pot of tea. The fragrance alone began to untangle the knots in her stomach. A few sips and the warmth flowed through her limbs, easing the muscles straining in her neck and shoulders. Smiling, she sat back and surveyed her new wardrobe with fresh eyes.
    She knew exactly why she was having difficulty