“The doctor was known to be congenial company and generous with his purse unless he was too deep in his cups. Then, wary of his temper and his large fists, most men had the wit to keep their distance. The dark expression on Blackwood’s face this evening warned the denizens of the Saracen’s Head that the doctor was already far gone in drink. Most of them had the good sense to leave him alone on his bench where he sat slumped back against the wall, his fingers crooked around the stem of his tankar...d. A buxom wench who had been eyeing him ever since he had entered the tavern was the only one who made bold to approach. But a glare from Blackwood and a growl to get away sent her scurrying in the opposite direction. He had no appetite for the sort of distraction the doxy offered, a few moments of grunting and groping in a chamber upstairs. He wondered if he would be able to find that kind of release for his pent-up tension ever again. He feared not and all because of her. Images kept flashing through his mind of Meg so warm in his arms, her lips so soft as she whispered kisses against his skin, the kind of caresses that could make a man forget himself for more than a few fleeting moments, perhaps for a lifetime.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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