‘You have the unmitigated gall to stand there and criticise both my morals and my taste without knowing the first thing about my circumstances. And then have the cheek to say you think you are a better prospect for me?’
‘Try me,’ he grated.
And then, before she had time to draw breath and make her retort—which would have been good and acidic, putting him neatly in his place—he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her. Hard. Full on the lips.
She froze, shocked into indignant immobility. But only for a moment. Because, amazingly, hard on the heels of her indignation came a wave of such sheer pleasure it made her want to purr.
AUTHOR NOTE
Blame it on Paris …
Ever since my first visit to Paris I’ve been in love with the city, so it has been an extra-special delight to set my latest story there. When it looked as though Napoleon Bonaparte had been defeated, and was in exile on Elba, the cream of English society flocked to the city which had been barred to them for the best part of twenty years. English tourists in Regency times marvelled at the treasures on display in the Louvre, strolled through the Tuileries Garden and visited restaurants in the Palais Royal—just as I have done.
Amethyst, my heroine, goes to Paris looking for a fresh start. Then she discovers she cannot move forward until she’s dealt with her past. Nathan, too, has gone to Paris to start a new life. They both find that there’s something about Paris—a city that has gone through so much upheaval—that makes them start questioning their own long-held beliefs. About themselves, about each other, and most of all about love.
Portrait of a Scandal
Annie Burrows
ANNIE BURROWS has been making up stories for her own amusement since she first went to school. As soon as she got the hang of using a pencil she began to write them down. Her love of books meant she had to do a degree in English Literature, and her love of writing meant she could never take on a job where she didn’t have time to jot down notes when inspiration for a new plot struck her. She still wants the heroines of her stories to wear beautiful floaty dresses and triumph over all that life can throw at them. But when she got married she discovered that finding a hero is an essential ingredient to arriving at ‘happy ever after’.
Previous novels by Annie Burrows:
HIS CINDERELLA BRIDE
MY LADY INNOCENT THE EARL’S UNTOUCHED BRIDE CAPTAIN FAWLEY’S INNOCENT BRIDE THE RAKE’S SECRET SON (part of Regency Candlelit Christmas anthology) DEVILISH LORD, MYSTERIOUS MISS THE VISCOUNT AND THE VIRGIN (part of Silk & Scandal Regency mini-series) A COUNTESS BY CHRISTMAS CAPTAIN CORCORAN’S HOYDEN BRIDE AN ESCAPADE AND AN ENGAGEMENT GOVERNESS TO CHRISTMAS BRIDE (part of Gift-Wrapped Governesses anthology) NEVER TRUST A RAKE REFORMING THE VISCOUNT
Also available in eBook format in Mills & Boon® Historical Undone!:
NOTORIOUS LORD, COMPROMISED MISS
HIS WICKED CHRISTMAS WAGER
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
To the ladies (and gentleman) of flat B1.
You know who you are!
Contents
Chapter One
‘Madame, je vous assure, there is no need to inspect the kitchens.’
‘Mademoiselle,’ retorted Amethyst firmly as she pushed past Monsieur Le Brun—or Monsieur Le Prune, as she’d come to think of him, so wrinkled did his mouth become whenever she did not tamely fall in with his suggestions.
‘Is not the apartment to your satisfaction?’
‘The rooms I have so far seen are most satisfactory,’ she conceded. But at the sound of crashing crockery from behind the scuffed door that led to the kitchens, she cocked her head.
‘That,’ said Monsieur Le Brun, drawing himself to his full height and assuming his most quelling manner, ‘is a problem the most insignificant. And besides which, it is my duty to deal with the matters domestic.’
‘Not in any household I run,’ Amethyst muttered to herself as she pushed open the door.
Crouched by the sink was a scullery maid, weeping over a pile of broken crockery. And by a door which led to a dingy courtyard she saw two red-faced men, engaged in a discussion which involved not only a stream of unintelligible words, but also a great deal of arm waving.
‘The one with the apron is our chef,’ said Monsieur Le Brun’s voice into her ear, making her jump. She’d been so intent on trying to work out what was going on in the kitchen, she hadn’t heard him sneak up
