A shudder rippled through Tristan, an aftershock of their fierce coupling reverberating in his very bones. The realization caused a tremor of uncertainty to ricochet through his core. He knew the power Gwendolyn held over him, understood the tamed beast straining beneath his civilized veneer. And somewhere, somehow, she had divined the secrets of his heart – the shattered fragments forever bearing the scars of past battles, past losses.
His free hand stroked almost reverently through her inky tresses as he drank in the sight of her. Those storm-tossed eyes, that aristocratic beauty marred by a defiant tilt of her chin and kiss-swollen lips painted a vision of both regality and defilement. In her gaze he recognized the same anguished duality gnawing at his shredded soul – the longing for
