One Night of Sin (Mansforth Chronicles Book 1)
One Night of Sin: Chapter 8

It was just shortly after ten o’clock in the evening when Braxton finally retired to his bedchamber, only to find his starlet-in-training face down on the bed, a pile of papers strewn about her. At first, all he could think about was if she was alive, but then she had stirred, sitting up slowly as she wiped her blurry eyes from her slumber.

“Braxton, what are you…? Is it morning? Surely, I have not wasted the entirety of the day!” she mumbled, scrambling to sit upright.

“Oh, no, no,” he said softly, sitting down beside her on the bed. “It’s ten o’clock in the evening, my dear. But I do believe this is a sure sign you have worked yourself too hard. I certainly did not expect you to sort this out in a single sitting.”

Lilliana shuffled the papers around on the bed, gathering them into a tidy, cohesive pile. “Well, I got through a third of it, at least.”

Braxton’s eyes widened in surprise. “And how on Earth could you accomplish such a thing?”

“Well, it was simple, really,” she explained. “I took the basic premise of the story, then manipulated the wording as I saw fit. One can always tell when the prose is working, for it will flow like rain on an early spring day.”

Braxton smiled at the metaphor. “You do have a gift with words. Why didn’t you pursue writing plays, instead?”

“Well, I enjoy writing, but nothing is quite as satisfying as being able to see the audience’s reaction as the story unfolds. We do not have that luxury with books. But we do have that luxury with plays.”

“I suppose I never thought of it that way, really. But it makes perfect sense.”

Braxton brushed her hair back from her neck, lowering his lips to her warm, lavender-scented skin. “You will make a lovely Gislaine when you take that stage,” he said between kisses. “A very, very lovely one at that.”

Heat rose to Lilliana’s cheeks as his lips trailed down to the hollow of her throat, and she arched her head back, letting out a small gasp of surprise as his tongue flicked her skin. “I should hope I could do her justice for you,” she whispered.

Braxton’s hand cupped her chin softly as he gazed down into her sapphire eyes. “I firmly believe you could do justice to any role you set your mind to pursuing. I can feel it in my bones.”

Lillian wrapped her arms around Braxton’s neck, pressing her lips firmly to his. Dear God, she had longed for him all day, and she longed for the moment he would see her on stage for the first time, glittering and radiant as she stood proudly before the crowd.

She could almost hear the audience now, cheering and greeting her with thunderous applause. And Braxton would be there, whisking her into his arms, and he would tell her that she would be the star of the show for all his days, and he would love her forever.

But it was only a dream. A fanciful, wonderful dream.

Yet what she didn’t know was that he already did love her madly.

And no woman could ever take her place.

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