Category: Patricia Grasso

Patricia Grasso

Heavy hearts, heavy eyelids,” said the master of the caravan.”Huh?” Heather looked up in dismay, shocked to find she’d nearly been left behind as the caravan prepared to move on. Her last night’s sleep had been fitful, full of dreams where Khalid made her suffer for running away. Now she felt drained and groggy, unable to get the images of Khalid spanking her over his knee and then ravishing her out of her tired head.”Look,” the caravan master said. “Riders approaching, a great armed party. No doubt they are searching for escaped slaves.””No doubt.” Heather straightened up wearily in the saddle, determined to outwit Khalid and conceal her true identity as a runaway. The one thing she was sure of was that capture would bring a fate worse than death. Already she could imagine Khalid tying her up, spanking her bottom, making her howl for mercy until she had no pride or will to resist. And then would come the true test of her virtue . . .

Patricia Grasso

Viktor looked at the older man’s nightshirt, robe, and nightcap. His lips quirked into a smile. “The hour is late, and the household sleeps. How is it that you are still awake?”“I knew you would be knocking on the door sooner or later.” Pickles looked down his long nose at him. “You have passed the previous six nights with Her Ladyship.”“You are observant, my good man.”“No, Your Highness, I am the one who locks the door at night.” Pickles reached into his robe’s pocket and produced a key. He passed it to the prince, saying, “After tonight, let yourself into thehouse.”Viktor grinned at the majordomo and lifted the key out of his hand. “Your trust honors me.”“You are unlikely to abscond with the silver,” Pickles drawled.