dark azure

“That was the problem. I’m sorry, Miss Porter, but it’s hard to discuss the orgies of Midsummer with such a beautiful woman and keep my diction.” Mark looked at his hands in his lap, wringing nervously. “I mean, you’re only, what, four years older than I am and . . .” He felt a hand on his arm. “. . .so pretty.” His voice trailed. Mark looked up and into Miss Porter’s eyes. The dark azure raged with passion. His breath halted and she kissed him.

Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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