Claire asked while seated comfortably in Elisabeth’s newly acquired rooms. The private apartments on the west side of the château were not only cooler, but better furnished and far more pleasant. “I predict within the next few minutes.” Elisabeth voice sounded calm, giving no indication of just how discomposed she was. She stood near the windows, too nervous to sit, her stomach in knots. She’d just made a bold move downstairs. The boldest in her life. The next step was up to Tristan. He was angry at her—for reasons she fully expected him to voice when he entered her rooms—but he was also undeniably interested in following through with his vow. She’d seen arousal flare in his eyes when he saw the contents of the wooden box. Her very entrails quaked with anticipation. An amorous encounter was at hand. With tall, strong, beautiful Tristan de Tiersonnier. The notion made her feel warm, weak, and a bit apprehensive—especially when she thought about how he was going to take her.
