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EXCERPT: Amorica's Wager
The very essence of Amorica
filled his head.
She turned to him, smiling,
then gazed toward the fire once again. For a moment, he watched the flames
dance in the grate. Her hair smelled of roses. His gut tightened. He swore
softly beneath his breath, suddenly realizing this would be the longest night
of his life.
Amorica leaned into him. His
hands followed the comb's path. She sighed, and he was sure she had no idea
what she did and how her slightest gesture affected him. Her eyes closed. Dark
lashes swept across alabaster flesh. The storm had not been planned, and yet
the isolation, the night alone, all served the sinister purpose he was destined
to fulfill. Silence her. Bind her so thoroughly to him she could never leave.
After tonight, no matter what he did or did not do, she was his. She would be
ostracized by those with influence--and shamed.
His heart wrenched into two
pieces.
Her cheek touched upon his
chest. Her hand rested on his abdomen.
He sucked air.
She pushed away from him,
her eyes open now and shining with trust.
Her innocence and courage
always unmanned him.
"You have so many
secrets," she said. "And I have the feeling you distrust me."
Trust was so very elusive.
Now, he trusted her to
betray him.
"I trust few people."
He pulled her close, letting her rest against him and reveling in the feel of
her so close, yet so very distant. He could not have her, he reminded himself.
Because he did not want to
hurt her.
Bloody hell, he had already
hurt her irreparably. She would have to go home.
Unless he wed her.
He could not. He could never
put her in danger or condemn her to a life of misery with a man she loathed.
Damaging her reputation was nothing compared to her life--which would be in
jeopardy everyday if they wed.
Her fingertips lightly
traced his collarbone. His body shuddered at the sensation. She followed her
fingertips with her lips, kissing him lightly.
She set a blaze within him,
her every touch mercuric. She seduced him with every gesture, every look. Her
hands ran across his chest, touching him everywhere.
"Amorica," his
voice rasped. He could barely breathe, could not think. "This is not wise."
She stopped, her fingertip
resting on his chest and gazed at him wide eyed. Then she touched him--with her
lips--her tongue.
With one finger, he touched
her beneath her chin, lifting her face gently. He needed to see into her eyes.
Then he framed her face with his hands. For the longest time, he watched her.
"Do you have any idea
how beautiful you are?" How very treacherous you would be if you knew the
truth of my mission.
She started to shake her
head, but his lips met hers, melded sweetly with her warmth. He traced the seam
of her lips, and she opened for him.
Her nails bit into his skin.
She made a low sound in the back of her throat.
Her urgency amazed him.
"Did you know you
appear the braw handsome highlander?" she asked in return, pushing away
from him then moistening her lips, her eyes wide, the centers dark with
passion.
He kissed her again and
pushed her back on the fur in front of the fire.
Embers crackled and then he
heard nothing but the roar of his blood pounding in his veins.
He rolled so she lay atop
him, straddling his hips. "You should tell me to stop."
She settled her hair behind
her. "I don't want you to stop," she sighed, her smile lighting his
heart.
"It does not matter.
Tell me to act the gentleman and walk away."
"I like you the way you
are." She bent low, her breasts softly pushing against his chest, her lips
seeking his own.
He groaned, knowing he was
damned.
Lord, but he could not stop
himself and she made no effort to tell him no. He kissed her again, running his
hands down her legs. They were long and soft. He turned her again, his leg
resting between her thighs, his hands smoothing her cascading hair from her
face. One fingertip traced the seam of her lips. His mind fantasized in
directions it should not wander.
He had to stop.
When the
duchess decides to wed her to a wastrel and a fop, Ravyn Grahm takes matters
into her own hands and declares her engagement to another man. Instead of fessing up and telling her great aunt what
she has done, she goes through with the pretense. Aric Lakeland is the bastard
son of an earl and has a dangerous reputation. But Ravyn is willing to do most
anything to keep the duchess from discovering the lie.
He'd bought
land in America, looking to put down roots and end his life of adventure, but
Aric Lakeland got more than he bargained for when he encountered a beautiful
heiress who made a promise she didn't want to keep. But the promise could not be undone and standing
between them were more obstacles than either ever dreamed. Aric had made plans
to spend the rest of his life in America and that was at odds with Ravyn's plan
of living in England and running her father's estate. Now, he'll have to choose
between his dreams and the woman he loves more than life.
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