A beautiful debutante in Regency London seems destined to make a good match. But the Somerset sisters have made courtship and matrimony a deliciously scandalous affair…
Hyacinth Somerset’s debut is the most anticipated event of the season, as it will be the reclusive young lady’s first public appearance. But within moments of being asked to dance by a dashing stranger, Hyacinth calls him a murderer, then faints dead away! Now all the ton is a aflutter over Hyacinth’s baffling shun of their most intriguing newcomer—the wildly handsome Lachlan Ramsey…
Recently arrived from Scotland, Lachlan only wishes to claim his place in society to secure his sister’s future. When that is threatened by the accusations of a hapless slip of a girl, he will do anything protect his family. Yet it appears Hyacinth has only damaged her own hopes, inspiring the label of hysteric—and ultimately inspiring Lachlan to shelter her from harm. Now if only there were a defense for the surge of feeling he has every time Hyacinth turns her gaze his way. If only there were a way to make her his—while keeping the true secret in his past from destroying everything—and everyone—he cares about…
**More or Less a Temptress may be read and enjoyed as a standalone regency romance!
ENJOY THIS SNEAK PEEK AT HYACINTH AND LACHLAN!
Lachlan wrapped his fingers around her wrist and drew her hand away from his face. “I told you never to sacrifice yourself for me again.”
“Yes.” It was the simple truth, and Hyacinth didn’t try to deny it.
His eyes grew darker, and his hands clenched into fists. “Why, then?”
Why. She wanted to say, because it wasn’t a sacrifice. She wanted to say, because I’d do anything to keep you from being hurt again. She wanted to say, because I didn’t have a choice.
She wanted to say, you already know why.
In the end, she didn’t say any of those things. Or perhaps she said them all, just in far fewer words. “Because I love you, Lachlan.”
And oh, it was so easy to say it. She’d thought it would be difficult—she’d been afraid she’d hesitate, or stammer—but then those words had been hovering on her lips almost since the first moment she saw him. They’d been poised on her tongue, just waiting for her to speak them aloud.
His mouth opened, and his throat worked, but no sound emerged.
A tremor shot through her at his silence, but she’d said what was in her heart. She wouldn’t take it back, even if she could. Hyacinth gathered her courage, stepped closer, and buried her face against his chest.
He smelled so good, like fresh air and the outdoors, and something else, something earthy, like…heather. Scottish heather, woody and mossy, with just a faint hint of honeysuckle. She pressed her face into his neck, inhaled deeply, and wondered if one could become drunk on a scent.
A scent, or a smile, or a man’s gentle hands…
“Go to bed, Hyacinth.” He reached behind him, grasped her wrists, and tugged her hands away. “Tomorrow, when we see Finn, you’ll tell him the truth, and answer every question he asks. Do you understand me? You won’t sacrifice yourself for me—or for Isla or Ciaran—again.”
He was staring down at her, his face so hard and still Hyacinth’s nerve nearly failed her. The other Hyacinth—the timid one—wanted to run from the room then, but she could feel his struggle in the tremble of his body, in every harsh, labored breath he drew.
He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Tonight, that was enough.
“I’m not going to bed.” She slid her hands over his chest to his shoulders and worked his coat down his arms. His breath caught when it fell to the floor with a heavy thud, then it stopped in his chest when she loosened the buttons of his waistcoat, dragged it off him, and tossed it to the floor.
“Don’t.” He caught her wrists in his hands again to stop her, but Hyacinth heard the pleading note hidden in the gruff command, and she saw the way his eyes darkened as he stared down at her.
He held her fast, refusing to free her wrists, so Hyacinth leaned forward and pressed her mouth to the hollow of his throat. She felt his gasp, the convulsive movement of his throat against her lips as he tried to swallow back a moan.
“Let go of my hands, Lachlan,” she murmured against his heated skin.
“No, damn you.” He was fighting to catch his breath. “You’re not wasting yourself on me.”
His words were lost in another gasp as she opened her mouth and grazed her teeth lightly over his throat. “Waste myself? No, Lachlan. It’s not a waste to give myself to the man I love.”
“No. You can’t love me. I won’t let you.” But even as he protested, his body was straining toward her, every muscle tensed with need. “You can’t love me, leannan.”
She laughed softly as she dragged her tongue around the curve of his ear. She nipped his earlobe, then moved lower to trail hot kisses over the bare skin revealed by the open neck of his shirt. “It’s too late, you stubborn, foolish man.”
PRE ORDER NOW!
And Also Check Out:
If you plan to purchase any of the books, we’d be grateful if you used our links. This helps support our blog and costs you nothing additional. Thank you for your support.
–The Wickedcoolflight Crew
Anna Bradley is an award-winning author of Regency Historical Romances A WICKED WAY TO WIN AN EARL, A SEASON OF RUIN, LADY ELEANOR’S SEVENTH SUITOR, LADY CHARLOTTE’S FIRST LOVE, TWELFTH NIGHT WITH THE EARL, MORE OR LESS A MARCHIONESS, and MORE OR LESS A COUNTESS, coming in August, 2018.
Anna lives with her husband and two children in Portland, OR, where people are delightfully weird and love to read.
Readers can get in touch with Anna via her webpage at http://www.annabradley.net, or, for all things romance (and an occasional “hot hero” pic!) please visit Anna on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/annabradley472.
Find Anna Online!
Amazon → https://amzn.to/2MfGNXH
BookBub → http://bit.ly/2Mh34US
Facebook → http://bit.ly/2KbMu8v
Goodreads → http://bit.ly/2tiuliC
Google+ → http://bit.ly/2JY8Eit
Pinterest → http://bit.ly/2JYDGXi
Twitter → http://bit.ly/2K3fwLm
Website → https://www.annabradley.net