Title: Devlin’s Angel;
Bad Boys Book Ten
Author: Christine Young
Genre: Historical Romance
Book Heat Level:
TAGLINE: Devlin’s Angel
Posing as a commoner, Devlin Mathews finds dealing with the tiny she-devil, Merry Stewart, exasperating as well as intriguing.
BLURB: Devlin’s Angel
He's a bad bad boy...
Merry Stewart is wildly unpredictable. Left alone to run wild over the Bordeaux and Scottish countryside she becomes impetuous and daringly bold. Over the years, she's found she can bedevil her softhearted brothers into allowing her exploits to go unnoticed. As a young woman she has learned she can do as she pleases when she pleases. Now, Merry has set her amorous sights on the Duke of Weston—a man she has never met but has every intention of marrying. No other suitor will satisfy her—especially not the exceptionally striking, horse breeder, Devlin Mathews.
...she's the woman of his desires.
Posing as commoner Devlin Mathews to escape a potentially fatal confrontation, Devlin is enthralled and infuriated by the audacious, duke-hunting dark haired vixen. Bedeviled at every opportunity, he finds dealing with the tiny she-devil exasperating as well as intriguing. Without revealing his true identify, the infamous rogue pledges to thwart Merry's plans to wed the man of her dream-never imagining the bewitching strategist would turn out to be the only woman he would ever dream of marrying.
Excerpt: Devlin’s Angel
“A sticky bun.” He grinned accepting the coffee, his mind taking a different route all together than what she would expect. Yes, I would definitely like to try her buns.As he sat down, her stare travelled along his chest, lower then lower until it stopped at his unfastened pants. Heat flamed inside him at her blatant perusal. What had he expected? He chose not to wear a shirt for his own purposes, wanting to see if the heat from the night before still existed between them.
It did. Now it flamed brighter and hotter.
“Daryl taught me. I made some for the bakery. Some of the customers told me they are really quite good.” She sat down on one of the chairs, sipping the hot liquid she held in front of her, watching him expectantly, a hesitant smile.
“I bet your buns are very tasty.” He bit into one, chewing thoughtfully, studying her, realizing she had no idea what he meant.
Her brows drew together, chewing over his words. “They are,” she agreed with him. “As is the coffee.”
“How did you know, Brat?” he asked.
“That I preferred coffee over tea.”
“Do you? I always thought coffee tasted better with my buns,” she said straight faced. “Link, my youngest brother brought a lot back from Virginia.”
The liquid in his mouth spewed out with a cough. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Coffee tastes better with my buns,” she told him so much indignation in her voice.
Keeping his laughter behind his teeth, “That’s what I thought you said.”
He’d like to try that particular combination as he wondered how much of what she said was feigned innocence or if she knew exactly what he was talking about. He’d like to discover that too. Did she have any clue what he referred to?
“So, what do you think?” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with anticipation of his response.
His heart twisted, lightened, changed from his usual jaded thoughts. With his mouth full of sticky buns, his eyes catching her gaze, he said. “They are really very good with your coffee. Or is it your buns with the coffee? Maybe it’s the cinnamon and sugar with the melted butter that makes your buns so delicious.”
She smiled, her twin dimples changing her face, so much he gasped, “Thank you. I can make them for you every morning if you like. You can taste my buns every morning along with all the cinnamon, sugar and butter you want.”
He inhaled then very slowly he said, “I would like to taste your sticky buns every morning, thank you.”
She beamed even more. “Ask and you will receive,” Her eyes were alight, her smile beautiful, overpowering.
Inwardly, he groaned. Ask and you will receive. There were a lot of things he could think of that he might want to ask of her. Trying to stick his wayward thoughts to the farthest recesses of his brain, he finished eating.
Scotland, Glasgow, Romance, Historical