Chapter Eight
Nathan looked into the raging fire. The stone fireplace he designed to accommodate his need for great passionate fires, ones that would bellow and crackle and leap like dragon’s breath into the massive masculine room.
His leather chair accommodated his hulking body, and he drank a hearty imported brew as he waited. He was unaccustomed to anxiousness, but was inclined to believe this woman had caused exactly that in him. His loins burned with an uncommon zeal. She was a delicious tart, he thought, as his head began to swirl with a fine intoxication. He pictured her in the red dress he’d sent, looking forward to gazing at her sumptuous body. The dress was a perfect teasing dress, and he liked to be teased by a woman who moved with the kind of grace and sensuality that Liza d
