I'm procrastinating a simple task and keeping my mind off of something unpleasant; either of these endeavors might lead me to read, and today offers no exception. So. I read a few more pages of my beloved For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale, and this scene with Alegretto is perfection. I share it here:
[Ruck, the hero, enters the room to see Melanthe in nothing but a kirtle, cut open at the sides to expose bare flesh from ankles to waist, ooh la la]
As she chose a necklace and belt of copper gilt and black enamel, the youth at his side moved, sliding a grin at Ruck, lolling across the bed to pluck the jewelry from her hands.
She bent her head as he clasped the necklace at her nape and smoothed his fingers down her throat. He was sixteen, mayhap less, scarce half her age or Ruck's, with black hair and skin as soft as hers. He stroked her as a lover would, bending to fasten the belt about her waist, kissing her shoulder as he did it.
I just love this entire scene. Laura Kinsale is my hero.
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