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Archive for the ‘The Marriage Game’ Category

It’s been such a busy week that I forgot to post on release day!

This book combines characters from The Worthingtons and The Marriage Game.

The cover.

The Most Eligible Lord In London

 

The blurb:

In this captivating new Regency trilogy, bestselling author Ella Quinn picks up where her beloved Worthingtons series left off, as three Lords of London discover true love at last . . .

Handsome, rakish, incorrigibly flirtatious—Fredrick, Lord Littleton, is notorious. Lady Adeline Wivenly is resolved to keep him at arm’s length during her first Season—until she overhears another woman’s plot to trick him into marriage. Even a rogue is undeserving of such deception, and Adeline feels obliged to warn him—only to find herself perilously attracted . . .

In the past, Littleton’s charm nearly got him leg-shackled to the wrong woman. Now he’s positive he’s found the right one, for Adeline is everything he wants and needs in a wife. Her sense of justice is so strong she agrees to help him despite her mistrust. But can the ton’s most elusive lord convince the lady he is finally serious about marriage—as long as she will be his bride?

An excerpt:

Blast it all. Why had he decided to look for a wife in the first place? He should have just done what his father and every other Littleton had done for centuries: wait until he had to marry.

Pulling himself together, he rode onto the carriageway. Within a few seconds, he found himself being genially greeted by four matrons in a landau. The tension eased out of his shoulders. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as he’d imagined.

“Lord Littleton—”Lady Wall wiggled her fingers at him—“I am glad to find you in Town.”

The lady next to her raised interested blue eyes to his, gave him a come-hither look, and said, “I do not believe we have been introduced.”

“Oh, my,” Lady Wall exclaimed. “It did not occur to me that you did not know his lordship. Allow me to make you known to Lord Littleton. My lord, this is Lady Holloway.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Her generous lips rose in a smile.

In the past, he would have immediately returned her look for one of his own and made an arrangement to meet in a more secluded place. But his hunting instinct didn’t press him the way it used to. Perhaps that was the reason he’d decided to wed. He bowed. “The pleasure is mine.”

Lady Wall indicated the other two matrons in the carriage. “I trust you remember Lady Jersey and Lady Sefton?”

“Naturally.” Frits bowed again, and they exchanged greetings. “Ladies, I hope I find you in good health.”

“And you, my lord.” Lady Sefton inclined her head.

As the landau moved forward, Frits scanned the verge. He saw the one lady he had not wished to see, Lady Dorie Calthorp—daughter of the Marquis of Huntingdon, and his mistake—strolling with four other ladies. He’d behaved badly toward her last Season. Though not on purpose. For too long, he thought they would be a good match. But the more he grew to know her and her strengths and desires for her life, the more he was convinced marrying her would be a horrible mistake. But instead of finding a way to tell her, he’d fled London and returned to Littlewood, his main estate. And now it was too late to attempt to explain his panic. If he’d even had the words.

After taking a breath, he let it out slowly. He might as well get this over with. Frits just hoped she didn’t give him the cut direct.

Riding over to the group, he gave her his friendly smile. “Lady Dorie, well-met.”

The smile she returned was strained, and her eyes were hard. “Lord Littleton, I did not know you were in Town.”

“I arrived yesterday.” If looks could kill, he’d be lying on the ground bleeding. “Have you been in Town long?”

“Long enough.” Her words were clipped. She turned to the other ladies and made an elegant gesture toward him. “On the subject of gentlemen who appear eligible and are not, permit me to introduce to you Lord Littleton.” Damn and blast it. He fought to maintain his amiable countenance. She was obviously going to do her best to ensure he didn’t have an easy time finding a wife. “My lord, Lady Adeline Wivenly, Lady Augusta Vivers, Miss Featherton, and Miss Stern.”

He forced a smile and made what he knew was a stylish bow. “Ladies, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope you enjoy your time in the metropolis.” Miss Stern gave him a hard look. Had Lady Dorie already blackened his name to her friend? Lady Augusta was polite but unaffected, as if she did not care one way or the other if she met him. Miss Featherton had narrowed her eyes as if assessing his worth as a human being. That was disconcerting, but it ran in her family. He knew her older brother and sister.

Then there was Lady Adeline. She just stared at him with considering, soft, gray eyes that shone like silver. Curls of gleaming, dark, honey-blond hair framed her face. She was utterly entrancing. Immediately, he wanted to know what she was thinking. As if she realized she should not continue to look at him, she dropped her gaze, and thick, brown lashes fluttered to her cheeks, drawing his attention to her straight, little nose and a light sprinkling of freckles. If only he’d met her in other company. Naturally, he could not help but notice her deep, rose lips and the fact that her bottom lip was just a bit plumper than the top one. His gaze dropped lower, and he sucked in a breath. Even her demure spencer couldn’t hide the bounty beneath. He could have licked his lips at the thought of her in an evening gown. Here was a lady worth getting to know.

Buy links.

Amazon US https://amzn.to/31ZVGWS

Amazon UK https://amzn.to/2XtWS5c

Amazon CA https://amzn.to/2x9wcYC

Amazon Germany https://amzn.to/2FpphPG

Google Play http://bit.ly/2utSE0Q

B&N http://bit.ly/2XBP7KR

BAM http://bit.ly/2TTxbsD

Kobo http://bit.ly/2RmDKCp

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The Marquis She's Been Waiting For ebook

It’s Release Day for The Marquis She’s Been Waiting For!!
 
Dashing as they may be, Ella Quinn’s eligible bachelors have much to learn about life and love. Fortunately, just the right ladies are willing to instruct them . . .
Lady Dorcus Calthorp, daughter of the Marquis of Huntington, loved and lost during her first Season, leaving her suspicious of gentlemen. Now Dorie finds herself with no marital prospects in sight—until Alexander, the newly elevated Marquis of Exeter, arrives in town. Handsome, charming, and an interesting conversationalist, he at first seems to be her perfect match. Then Dorie discovers he may not be seeking a wife so much as a land steward…
After learning of his father’s death, Alexander returns home to find his mother has run off with his land steward, leaving his younger sisters with their governesses. The most expedient solution is a wife who will take the household and estate in hand while he assumes his role in parliament. Lady Dorie meets all the requirements—until she makes a surprising proposal. Instead of marrying Alexander, she will tutor him in his duties, freeing him to find his heart’s match. Yet the more Dorie teaches him, the more he longs to change their course of study—to love. And with the end of the Season nearing, he doesn’t have much time…
 
Apple: Someone please send me a workable link!
Barnes and Nobel: http://bit.ly/31ZwXBd
 
#The Marriage Game #RegencyRomance #HistoricalRomance

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During the Regency, the age of majority was one and twenty years old. The only exception was for a reigning monarch. In the case of a king or queen, the age of majority was eighteen. Women who were widowed before they reached the age of twenty-one were considered emancipated.

Why is this important? If one had reached their majority, he or she no longer needed parental permission to wed. Although, families had a great deal of influence whether or not the person was a minor. Still if on decided to marry against the wishes of one’s family, there was no need to fly to Gretna Green to wed. One could marry legally by special or regular license.

Unfortunately, this had no bearing at all on any funds in trust.

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Happy Sunday! We have lots of winners this week, so lets start with them.

CongratulationsCongratulations goes to Sharon Extine for winning a copy of Jenna Jaxon’s book, Angie Garn for winning a copy of my book, and Connie Fischer for winning Shannon Donnelly’s book!!

I hope you have a wonderful time reading!!

 

 

I wish I could tell you that things are slowing down for me, but I still have to finish book 3 in The Worthingtons. My title for this one is It Started with a Kiss. We’ll see if it survives my editor.

In fun news, I received my first box of ARCs for Three Weeks to Wed.

Three Weeks to Wed ARCs

Hubby had to carry them from the mailroom to our dinghy. I can tell you that the box was not light. In any event, to celebrate I’m giving away a copy to one of you. The rules are the same, just tell me you want the book. Bear in mind that this is not the final copy, so there will be errors. On the other hand, you can laugh at my spelling and punctuation mistakes.

Also, the box set is available for pre-order. It’s only .99 and I am using this opportunity to publish A Promise of Love, the first book in The Trevors.  My new novella series based on the children of the Duke of Somerset who was introduced to you in Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince. He has not improved, but I hope you will have fun reading about how his children escape him and find love and happiness.

I don’t have a blurb yet, but here is an excerpt.

Passionate+Promises+Final+BOX+1000x640April 1817, London

Lord Francis (Frank) Trevor glanced around the brilliantly lit ballroom wondering what the devil he was doing there. As the second son of the Duke of Somerset, one might suppose he would be used to the ton. And one would be mistaken. Other than the brief period of time he’d spent on the town during a university holiday, he had been acting as his father’s factor. A job that should belong to his eldest brother Damon, Marquis of Hawksworth. His father’s heir.

Frank hadn’t even had a holiday from running the dukedom’s estates. However, as soon as the Father had departed for Scotland with a few of his cronies, Mama had decided Frank could benefit from a touch of Town bronze. How the hell that was supposed to help him when he dealt mainly with crops and animals, he had no idea. He was trapped in a life he did not want and had no hope of employment outside of slaving for his father. If he even attempted to find another position, the duke would ensure he never got it. And after Damon’s marriage to Meg Featherton at Christmas, the duke had made very clear that in the future he would be making any necessary matches for his children.

Ergo, being here was a waste of time and money, though, thankfully, not his own.

A glass of wine was pressed into his hand. “Frank, you are supposed to be having fun.” His brother, Damon had a lazy smile on his face. “Not looking as if you’re facing a hanging.”

Frank took a long pull on the wine. “I’m having trouble knowing where to start. How did you manage to talk father into this visit?”

“Ah, well.” Rather than answering his question, his brother scanned the crowd. “Your mother decided it was time you were introduced to some of the ladies.”

As if he would really be allowed to choose his own bride. “Did she happen to send you a list of ladies who father would approve?”

“Ah, no.”

Damon raised his hand, and they were almost immediately joined by Meg, his wife of four months, and the young lady she had in tow. A beautiful lady with enough curves to entice a monk. Just what he needed. Even though he was immediately smitten with her, she was not for him. He had nothing to offer a woman looking for a husband, and he had his father to contend with.

“My love,” Damon continued, “we forgot that Frank doesn’t really know anyone one.”

“Aren’t you fortunate that I have a remedy?” Meg gave Frank an innocent grin.

She was up to something. The former Miss Margaret Featherton was the only female that had ever bested his father. “Miss MacGowan, may I introduce you to my brother-in-law Lord Francis Trevor. Frank, Miss MacGowan. She has been traveling the Continent, and, like you, does not know many people here.”

The woman smiled politely, but there was a hard glitter in her eyes as she held out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

The moment their hands touched Frank caught his breath. He took another look into her eyes and could now see they were the color of a Scottish lake, and not nearly as cold as they had been a moment ago. A hint of lavender and lemon wove its magic, capturing his senses, and his hand warmed where her long slim fingers rested in his palm. Her thick, auburn hair was arranged on top of her head, with tendrils curling down to fame her oval face. He imagined running his fingers through her silky tresses. He didn’t know how long he just stood there, but someone coughed, and he remembered he had to bow and say something.

“It is a pleasure, Miss MacGowan.” He was surprised he could speak at all, nonetheless in a normal voice.

For a moment she stared at him, as if she was feeling the same strange sensations that had attacked him. Then she grinned ruefully, a look of consternation on her lovely face. “Dear me, you would think I’d know this by now.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if speaking to herself. “What do I call you?” After a moment, her brow cleared. “Oh, yes. Lord Francis.”

“I actually prefer Lord Frank.” Then, lost as he was by her flaming hair and flawless milky skin, he said the first thing that came into his head, “You do not sound Scottish.”

She laughed. A lilting sound that made him want to laugh as well. “That is because I am not. I have Scottish antecedents on my father’s side, English on my mother’s side, and a great deal of Dutch mixed in.” Her tone became defensive and challenging at the same time. “I, sir, am an American.”

American? Frank stilled for a moment. The only American woman he had heard of was . . . “From New York?” Holding her chin high Miss MacGowan nodded. “The one who was in Paris last autumn?”

“Exactly.” Her tone was as sour as a lemon. “The American heiress.” She leaned in confidingly. “You had better watch yourself, I might bite.”

Buy links: Amazon ~ B&N ~ iBooks  ~ Kobo

 

 

Generally, I close the blog down for Christmas, but in the middle of next week I have two guest authors visiting me, one between Christmas and New Year, and Collette Cameron has a lovely post she has asked me to run on New Years. Don’t forget to stop by.

On to boat news. We’ve been cruising the BVI. We left yesterday to go back to St. Thomas. For the next two days I’ll be removing everything from our house here. Yes, it finally closed!! Then we’re back to the BVI for Christmas and on to St. Martin for our anniversary and New Year.

Soldier's Bay, Norman IslandTall Ship Dec 2015

Sunrise Sea Cow BayFrom Norman to Peter and TortolaWe’ve decided to sail as far south as St. Lucia before working our way back up the island to the States. Europe has been put off for a year as we need to get things for the boat before we make the crossing. I generally pick up what I think are interesting items in each island I go to. Last year it was handmade jewelry and spices. I’ll probably do that again. I give these away at conference and contests. Since I’ll be back in the States for the summer, I’d love to meet with some of you.

Have a Merry Christmas. I may be on my way to St. Martin next Sunday, if so, I’ll be back after the New Year.

May peace and love be with you.

Ella

 

 

 

 

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I’m finally back, but only for another week. After that, I’ll be off on a ten to fourteen day passage to the Caribbean.

Let’s begin with the weekend’s book winners! Congratulations to Gaelicark who won Nicola Davidson’s book, OFK_1600One Forbidden Knight!

CR - ebook coverCongratulations also goes to Jeanne Miro for winning Louisa Cornell’s book Christmas Revels!

 

 

 

As for my book news. Enticing Miss Eugénie Villaret is on a BookBub sale today for $.99!!

Enticing Miss Eugenie Villaret

Here is the blurb.

Ella Quinn’s intriguing and irresistible bachelors are masters in the game of seduction. But nothing has the power to change a single man’s mind like a captivating woman…  

William, Viscount Wivenly, plans to remain the most eligible of bachelors. He refuses to surrender to the schemes of husband-hunting ladies and matchmaking mamas. Fleeing the pressure of the ton, he’s bent on finding refuge in the West Indies. What he finds instead is a fascinating stranger, a woman so unlike those of his society that he can’t resist such a beguiling distraction… 

Determined to let nothing complicate her mission to protect her family’s livelihood while covertly rescuing orphaned slave children, Miss Eugénie Villaret does her best to evade suitors. But when dashing William lures her down a path of forbidden adventure and delicious danger, she may be convinced that business can indeed be mixed with pleasure—and persuaded to add passion to her priorities…

And buy links. Amazon ~ B&N ~ iTunes ~ Kobo

Fun stuff has been going on with my November release, Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince. She received a 4-star review from Romantic Times.

The Marriage Games series winds down in this last entry that is full of surprises. Victims of a matchmaking godmother and a dowager duchess, Meg and Damon slowly realize they are meant for each other in Quinn’s entertaining novel. Poignant at times, it’s a story to savor by a crackling fire.

And a 4.5 star Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews!

Ella Quinn gifts readers with a lovely historical, holiday romance.

Meg Featherton aims to have a fiancée before the holiday season ends, however she’s convinced after two separate heartbreak that love is not in the cards for her and settles on an amiable man she believes will make a suitable husband. The Marquis of Hawksworth has other plans he wants Meg for himself and he’s determined she’ll fall in love with him. With the help of some allies can Damon win her over?

Buy links can be found here.

Hubby and I have been doing a great deal of traveling in the past few weeks. After the Annapolis Sailboat show, I went to the NJ RWA conference, and got to hang out with reader and author friends. Then we started heading south staying in Rhode River, Solomons, Ingram Bay, Deltavilla, and Poquoson until we reached Hampton, VA earlier today.

Anchorage in PAX RiverDeltaville, VA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ingram Bay 1

 

 

Poquosan river sunrise

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hampton Univ Anchorage

From here I’ll be dividing my time between getting the next book done and preparing the boat for going off-shore.

How have you been doing?

Ella

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It’s time for Monday Excerpts! Let’s do the first instance in your hero’s point of view. Don’t forget to post your buy links.

miss featherton's christmas prince_ebookHere is mine from Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince!

Damon Hawksworth lounged against a convenient pillar in Lady Cowper’s crowded ballroom. A glass of wine dangled from his fingers. Directly across from him, another brittle smile appeared on Miss Margaret Featherton’s normally happy countenance. Her latest suitor, the Earl of Tarlington, was nowhere to be seen and had not been for the past two days or so. Rumor had it that he had gone to the Continent. The only question Damon had was whether she had given the man his congé or if it had been the other way around. He rather thought something had occurred to cause her to break it off with Tarlington. His godmother would know. If anyone knew the inner workings of the ton, it was Almeria Bellamny.

Ever since Rupert, Earl of Stanstead’s wedding, when Damon’s she had introduced him to Miss Featherton, he had developed a fascination for the lady. Her intelligence was sharp, and several times he had seen her hold back a witty retort. Her beauty was not at all in the usual mode. Her mouth was too wide for the current fashion, yet it complimented her high cheekbones and finely arched black brows. Her thick, dark chestnut hair almost begged him to run his fingers through her tresses as they tumbled down. Yet for some reason, the feature he was most fond of was her completely straight nose with a rounded tip. More importantly, she was poised beyond her years. He doubted she had ever been a missish young lady. Even when they had argued over an interpretation of poetry, she had always appeared in complete control and secure in her knowledge.

Now, her polite smile belied the look of despair in her blue eyes. It was as if she was slightly adrift and was only going through the motions until she could retire to the country. Well, with Tarlington gone, Damon wasn’t fool enough to wait until some other gentleman snatched her up. He would gladly rescue her and help her on the path he wished for them. Dancing was a start. She would have held the best sets for Tarlington, and now they would be Damon’s.

Pushing himself off the pillar, he handed his glass to a passing footman and crossed the room.

“Miss Featherton?” He bowed. “Would you by chance have a free dance?”

Her beautiful eyes, the color a mountain lake, were shadowed, as if she hadn’t slept much recently. “You may have the supper dance, my lord.”

“I am honored.” He bowed again before taking his leave.

This was worse than he’d thought. Whatever had happened between Tarlington and Miss Featherton, she was not unaffected, and that was an unwanted dilemma. Damon would have to see how the set went before he formulated his strategy for winning her.

Buy links:

Amazon http://amzn.to/1FbRDE1

Apple http://apple.co/1LFhzg2

B&N http://bit.ly/1KWU6nE

Google http://bit.ly/1EsPLvs

Kobo http://bit.ly/1FbSi8l

Now it’s your turn to show them what you’ve got!!

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Hooray!! You did it! I’m so thrilled that 348 of you have signed up to read Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince!! As promised, here is an exclusive excerpt!

miss featherton's christmas prince_ebookAfter dinner, Meg sought out Daphne, yet Meg’s gaze strayed to the door each time she heard a sound that could be the gentlemen joining them. At first she attempted to tell herself she was waiting for Amanda, who had not joined them for dinner. Yet the truth was Meg could not be still until Hawksworth arrived.

She encouraged Daphne to talk about her new house, the baby she was sure would be a boy, and, of course, her husband, who was perfect in every way. Several times she started to say something, then blushed and changed the subject. It was then that Meg remembered, with more than a little irritation, that her friend would be holding back some information because she was still unwed. When she was eighteen, and even nineteen, she had accepted the idea that maidens should be kept in the dark when it came to relations between men and women. But the past year had made her impatient with that way of thinking. Although to be fair, it was her miserable experience with Swindon and Tarlington that caused her change of mind.

The door opened, and all their heads turned toward it. Preceding the gentlemen were the Hillers and the Grantvilles. Then all her attention was riveted on Hawksworth. He and Fotheringale headed directly to her and Daphne.

Fotheringale took his wife’s hand. “Forgive us for being so long. Sir Randolph received a letter about more riots that have taken place.”

Meg looked at Hawksworth. “Where?”

“In the north. With the laws the government has, it is no wonder, but Lady Bellamny will not appreciate our bringing that debate into her drawing room on Christmas Eve.”

As far as Meg was concerned, it was this type of discussion that ought to dominate the conversation, but he was right. It would not be welcome.

Footmen started snuffing the candles, and a huge, shallow silver bowl filled with brandy and raisins was set on a round table that had been placed in the middle of the room. The purpose of the game was to pick out the raisins and not get burned as one ate them.

She placed her fingers in Hawksworth’s hand, and rose. “It is time for Snap Dragon.”

“That bowl is large enough to accommodate everyone.” He wasted no time in finding a place at the table. The Fotheringales were on one side of them and the Culpeppers on the other side. Across the table, Amanda wiggled her fingers at Meg, and mouthed, “I will tell you soon.”

Soon the only light in the long room came from the fireplaces at either end. Then the brandy was lit, creating an eerie blue blaze.

Meg gave a shiver of delight as she reached out and plucked a burning raisin from the bowl. Hawksworth got two of them, handing one to her. Then she did the same.

“You’re very good at this.” His voice was warm with praise.

“So are you.” Even though the fire burned off most of the alcohol in the brandy, the flavor was still strong.

Shrieks of laughter filled the room, as he leaned close to her. “A passionate game.”

Oooh, she was going to murder him right here. Not wanting anyone else listening, she kept her voice low. “We have already had this discussion.” Easing herself out of the circle, she murmured, “I need some air.”

Hawksworth caught up to Meg at the end of the long terrace. “What is it about passion you do not like?”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten before turning to face him. “What has passion to do with anything?”

He prowled slowly toward her. The torches reflected the fire lurking in his eyes, making him more dangerous than ever before. She took a step back toward the wall, and before she knew it her back had hit the cold stone.

“If you do not want love, you must at least have passion.” Bracing his hand on the wall next to her cheek, he leaned forward until his breath caressed her face. It was sweet with raisins and brandy.

Nervously, she licked her lips. Would her breath smell the same? “I want . . . I want . . .” Oh God! Why was it so difficult to articulate what she desired and that it did not include him? “I do not need passion. I want respect from a man who will never betray me.” Not someone who made her head spin and stirred strange feelings in her body and heart. “I want a calm life and children.”

“Children.” He spoke the word as if it had made his argument. “And how do you plan on getting children?”

How dare he mention what went on between a man and a woman? Her sister-in-law had given Meg some information. Still, an uncomfortable heat rose in her neck and face as she realized that he probably knew much more about the subject than she ever would.

Unable to stop the threadiness in her voice, she forced the words out. “In the usual way.”

Before she knew it, his lips were next to hers. “You have no idea.” The tip of his tongue trailed languidly along her bottom lip, and her knees began to turn to marmalade. “Will you lie in your cold bed with your nightgown on while your husband ruts?”

She should be shocked. No one had ever talked to her like this. The image Damon brought up held no appeal. Mary had said when a man and woman loved one another . . . But that was not something Meg would have.

His wicked tongue moved from her mouth to her ear, as he whispered, “Or do you want to scream as he takes you to heaven and back?”

How weak did he think she was? Despite her shock, she managed to answer. “I never scream.”

Damon chuckled, a low, sinful sound. “I’d make you scream and enjoy doing it.”

She was sinking, and she had to find a way to fight back before she lost the argument and herself. “You will never have the opportunity.”

He smiled, his teeth flashing white. “Afraid of what you might feel?”

“Do not be ridiculous. I feel nothing for you, or any other man. I refuse to.”

“Poor Meg.” His finger caressed her jaw. The palm of his hand cupped her cheek, as she had dreamed about doing to him, and he pressed his lips to hers.

His mouth was open and hot, but not wet. She opened her lips to tell him that she had not given him permission to use her name, but his tongue invaded, and conquered, and she was lost in the heat that speared through her from her breasts to her thighs as he explored her mouth.

She should pull away. She should slap him. Instead she slid her arms up over his shoulders, allowing her fingers to play with his soft, waving hair as she pressed her body to his.

He slanted his head, and Meg moaned. Even through the layers of muslin and velvet, she felt the hard warmth of his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and his legs pressed against hers. Then his tongue stroked hers, insisting she return the caress. An urgent throbbing started low in her belly. She should stop, but she didn’t want to.

This was what she would be giving up by marrying Lord Throughgood. He would never hold her like this, kiss her like this. No one had ever kissed her as Hawksworth did. Other than on her hand, Tarlington had not even attempted a kiss.

She gave a small sob, and he lifted his head, capturing her gaze with his fathomless dark eyes. “That is passion.”

 

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