Sapphire. Rosemary RogersЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Praise for ROSEMARY ROGERS
“The queen of historical romance.”
—New York Times Book Review
“Rogers, a true doyenne of the genre, gives her many readers the romance they anticipate along with lush scenery and romantic locations.”
—Booklist on Jewel of My Heart
“Returning to her roots with a story filled with family secrets, politics, adventure and simmering passion, Rosemary Rogers delivers what fans have been waiting for.”
—Romantic Times on An Honorable Man
“Her novels are filled with adventure, excitement, and always, wildly tempestuous romance.”
—Fort Worth Star-Telegram
“This is exactly what her many fans crave, and Rogers serves it up with a polished flair.”
—Booklist on A Reckless Encounter
“Ms. Rogers writes exciting, romantic stories…with strong-willed characters, explosive sexual situations, tenderness and love.”
—Dayton News
“Her name brings smiles to all who love love.”
—Ocala Star-Banner
Also by ROSEMARY ROGERS
JEWEL OF MY HEART
RETURN TO ME
SURRENDER TO LOVE
AN HONORABLE MAN
WICKED LOVING LIES
A RECKLESS ENCOUNTER
SWEET SAVAGE LOVE
SAVAGE DESIRE
Sapphire
Rosemary Rogers
To my patient family and my loyal readers
Contents
1
Martinique
French West Indies
April 1831
“One kiss, ma Sapphire douce, one kiss, else I will perish,” the handsome, dark-haired Frenchman declared, bringing both hands to his heart where he stood chest-deep in the pool of crystal blue-green water beneath the waterfall.
Maurice wore nothing but a pair of buff doeskin breeches, soaked through and clinging to his body like a second skin, and the sight of his bare, muscular chest and dripping hair slicked back over his head made Sapphire’s pulse quicken and her knees go weak. “You’ll have to catch me first, Maurice.” She laughed and splashed him, swaying her hips provocatively beneath the transparent shift she wore for her late-afternoon swim.
Maurice lunged forward, his hand striking out, but she turned and dove headlong into the pool, touching the sandy bottom with outstretched fingertips before she came back up, lungs straining for air.
“Got you!” He caught her ankle and began to drag her toward him, running his hands up her bare calf.
“No!” Sapphire squealed, kicking her free leg and laughing. “Release me, kind sir.”
“Not until I have my kiss, fair damsel.” Stepping back, Maurice found his footing on the sandy bottom again and pulled her into his arms.
Surrendering at last, Sapphire looped her arms around his neck and tipped her head back, allowing her wet, waist-length auburn tresses to fall over her shoulders and dip into the water. Closing her eyes, pressing her hips to his, she reveled in the feel of Maurice’s body against hers.
Maurice had caught her eye at a ball last autumn when he and his brother Jacques had returned from school in France to join his father on a neighboring plantation. She’d felt the magic from the first night they met. A few innocent kisses, followed by heated glances across crowded rooms and several furtive meetings, and she’d fallen