Lady #623
In the King’s Service #675
A Lover’s Kiss #908
The Viscount’s Kiss #957
Other works include:
Harlequin Books
Mistletoe Marriages
“Christmas in the Valley”
The Brides of Christmas
“The Vagabond Knight”
HQN
Bride of Lochbarr
Lord of Dunkeathe
The Unwilling Bride
Hers To Command
Hers To Desire
My Lord’s Desire
The Notorious Knight
Knave’s Honor
The Warlord’s Bride
DON’T MISS THESE OTHER NOVELS AVAILABLE NOW:
#955 THE NOTORIOUS MR. HURST—Louise Allen
Lady Maude Templeton has turned down many proposals with her heart set on one man—sexy, talented theater owner Eden Hurst. He doesn’t believe in love, but Maude is determined to make Eden her own. Society is about to see she can be just as shocking as her Ravenhurst friends when she puts her mind to it!
The latest thrilling installment of Louise Allen’s Those Scandalous Ravenhursts
#956 SIERRA BRIDE—Jenna Kernan
Sam Pickett is rich, powerful and used to getting his way. So he is baffled when stunning Kate Wells isn’t remotely interested in becoming his latest plaything—despite the fact that she’s poor, with an aunt and blind sister to support. Since striking it rich, Sam has felt a troubling emptiness and knows that his money can never fill the hole in his life where Kate now belongs….
He’ll have the only woman he wants!
#958 REYNOLD DE BURGH: THE DARK KNIGHT—Deborah Simmons
Tall, dark and handsome, Reynold de Burgh is nonetheless wary of the opposite sex—until he meets beautiful, young Sabina Sexton! That innocent Sabina fearfully begs his help to fight the “beast” terrorizing her village only makes the brooding knight more desirous of her.
The last bachelor of the de Burgh dynasty is single no longer!
#265 MARRYING CAPTAIN JACK—Anne Herries
Lucy Horne is excited about her first Season. But despite being the belle of every ball, she can’t seem to quell her feelings for a man she has met only once before—the enigmatic and dashing Captain Jack.
He must clear his name to claim his bride
#266 FRANCESCA—Sylvia Andrew
Francesca Shelwood was mortified when Marcus Carne reappeared in her life—he had stolen the most magical, illicit kisses from the young, innocent Francesca! Now, on her inheritance, Marcus has returned to offer the unimaginable—marriage! Francesca refuses, but very soon she walks headlong into danger—and the only man ready to sacrifice his life, and reputation, for her sake is Marcus….
Her only temptation!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Chapter One
It has long been my dream to study these fascinating creatures in their natural habitat, to watch them as they spin their webs and go about the business of living, myself unnoticed save as another species of fauna inhabiting their world.
—from The Spider’s Web, by Lord Bromwell
England, 1820
That man does not belong here, Nell Springley thought as she surreptitiously studied the only other occupant in the mail coach headed to Bath. He’d been asleep when she’d boarded in London, and he was still asleep despite the rocking and jostling of the vehicle, his tall beaver hat tipped over his eyes and his arms crossed over his chest.
He was clearly well-to-do, for he wore a fine indigo frock coat of excellent wool and buff trousers that hugged his long legs. His blindingly white cravat, tied in an intricate and complicated knot, fairly shouted a valet’s skillful expertise. His slender fingers were likewise encased in superbly fitting kid leather gloves and his Hessian boots were so brightly polished, she could see the reflection of her skirts.
Surely a man who could afford such clothes would have his own carriage.
Maybe he was a gamester who had gambled away his fortune. If he was the sort who frequented outdoor boxing matches, that might explain why what little of his jaw and cheeks she could see had been browned by the sun.
Perhaps he’d been in the Navy. She could easily imagine that figure in a uniform, his broad shoulders topped by an officer’s braid, shouting commands and looking very dashing on the quarterdeck.
Or he could be a tosspot sleeping off a night of drunken merriment, having spent the rest of his money on wine. If that were so, she hoped he wouldn’t wake up until they arrived in Bath. She had no desire to be engaged in conversation with a sot. Or anyone else.
The coach lurched over a particularly bone-jarring bump that rattled the baggage in the boot and made
