Victorian Romance. After five seasons as a wallflower, Lettie Fairchild is resigned to spinsterhood. Mostly. Determined to claim more meaning for her life than seeing her younger sisters married, she seeks a purpose. She finds what she’s looking for when she happens upon a book describing seven curses that plague London.
Nathaniel Hawke is attempting to adjust to civilian life after retiring from the military, but his injured leg and memories of his time in the service prevent an easy transition. On his long walks during London’s darkest hours, Nathaniel is appalled by what he sees taking place on the dirty streets and alleyways. He is determined to take action. Coming upon a proper, if rebellious, lady in the desolate area both intrigues and frustrates him.
Nathaniel’s disregard for his personal safety infuriates Lettie even as her heart is touched by his determination to aid the city’s neglected children.
As the two wounded souls stumble upon each other time and again in slums and ballrooms, they realize they fight a common cause--and share an unbridled passion.
Will the curse they fight be their downfall? Or will love win the day?
Excerpt:
“You have no say over me,
Mr. Hawke.”
“What would your father
say if he knew where you had spent the luncheon hour?”
Lettie gasped. “Are you
threatening me?”
“No. I am trying to keep
you safe.”
“You don’t know my name.
Besides, I am old enough to see to my own safety.”
“And you obviously are
quite good at it, since you are now riding in a carriage with a
stranger un-chaperoned. Do you have any idea what happens to nice
ladies such as yourself in situations like this?” He leaned closer,
hoping his presence was enough to frighten her into avoiding such
trips in the future.
Her chin went up a notch as
she met his gaze. With his next indrawn breath, her sweet scent that
held a hint of orchids filled his senses. He’d grown fond of their
heady fragrance during his time in India. Why couldn’t she have
smelled of roses or something normal like other English misses?
“Nothing untoward ever
happens to me.” She said the words with the utmost confidence. Yet
they held an underlying hint of something he couldn’t identify. Was
it regret?
His gaze dropped to her
lips. He could tell the moment awareness of the danger she was in
struck her, for she gave a tiny gasp. The pulse just visible at the
base of her throat sped. His gaze caught on the dent in her chin
before he stared into her eyes once more, telling himself he needed
to back away before doing something he’d
regret.
But those hazel-green eyes
with specks of gold left him no choice. There was a question in their
depths. He recognized it as he had one too.
“Damn,” he muttered then
took her mouth with his. Any idea of intimidating her fell away the
moment his lips met hers. A surge of desire took him under, and he
slipped his tongue into her mouth, swirling in its depths.
His entire body quivered at
the spicy flavor of her. She tasted as good as she smelled, with a
hint of cloves and cinnamon. Then her tongue hesitantly moved against
his as though she was unfamiliar with doing so, and he nearly
groaned. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Her gloved hand fluttered up
to the side of his face, whether to push him away or draw him closer,
he didn’t know.
The knock on the carriage
door had him jerking back.
“We’re blockin’
traffic,” his footman called out.
Nathaniel shook his head in
an attempt to clear it. The woman appeared as startled as he. Indeed,
she should be after that potent kiss. He quickly opened the door and
exited to assist her in alighting right outside the bookstore she’d
named, as promised.
Her hand trembled in his as
she stepped down to the street. Rather than please him, as it had
been his initial intent to frighten her, it angered him. Now that
he’d been successful in scaring her, regret filled him. Somewhere
deep inside, he’d wanted her to enjoy that kiss as much as he had.
“Do not venture there
again,” he said then cleared his suddenly dry throat. “It’s far
too dangerous. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly,” she
answered as she looked up at him.
He stared hard at her.
Surely that couldn’t be delight in the depths of her eyes or a hint
of a smile on those luscious lips. Not when her hand shook so. She
pulled it from his grasp.
“Good
day, Mr. Hawke.” She turned and walked into the bookstore without a
backward glance.
No comments:
Post a Comment