An Excerpt From
Lucan Montwood is the last man Frances Thorne should ever trust. A gambler and a rake, he’s known for causing more trouble than he solves. So when he offers his protection after Frances’s home and job are taken from her, she’s more than a little wary. After all, she knows Lord Montwood’s clever smile can disarm even the most guarded heart. If she’s not mindful, Frances may fall prey to the most dangerous game of all—love.
Frances moved closer to the desk. A blank page waited on the surface with a quill resting in a stand beside a pot of uncapped ink, as if prepared to attend to business matters. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow cross in front of the door and automatically turned, expecting to see Lord Whitelock.
Yet, it wasn’t he at all. It was Lucan Montwood instead.
She started. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, Miss Thorne.” He moved into the room and lifted one hand in an absent gesture, as if the matter were of little importance. Wearing a hunter green tailcoat over a gold waistcoat and a pair of snug buttery breeches buttoned at the knee above his boots, his self-assured gait bordered on brazen.
She tried not to notice the way each step accentuated each shift and clench of his muscles. Her throat went dry. “You live here?”
That hand—those long fingers—stroked the line of his jaw as one corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. “I’m afraid that I must admit to subterfuge. You see, this is Fallow Hall, and not Whitelock’s residence. His estate is a few miles further north.”
The words registered slowly. A pulse fluttered at her throat. “You’ve abducted me?”
That grin remained unchanged. “Not at all. Rest assured, you are free to leave here at any time—”
“Then I will leave at once.”
“As soon as you’ve heard my warning.”
It did not take long for a wave of exasperation to fill her and then exit her lungs on a sigh. “This is in regard to Lord Whitelock again. Will you ever tire of this subject? You have already said that you believe him to be a snake in disguise. I have already said that I don’t agree. Therefore, there is nothing more to say unless you have proof.”
“I have the same proof against him that you hold against me,” he challenged with a lift of his brow. “You have damned me with the same swift judgment that you have elevated Whitelock to sainthood.”
What rubbish. “I did not set out to find the good in his lordship. The fact of his goodness came to me naturally by way of his reputation. Even his servants cannot praise him enough. They are forever grateful for his benevolence.”
“Perhaps he wants your gratitude,” he said, his tone edged with warning. “This entire series of events that has put you within reach of him reeks of manipulation. You are too sensible to ignore how conveniently these circumstances turned out for him.”
“Yet, I suppose, I’m meant to ignore the convenience in which you abducted me?”
He laughed. The low, alluring sound had no place in the light of day. It belonged to the shadows that lurked in dark alcoves and to the secret desires that a woman of seven and twenty never dare reveal.
“It was damnably hard to get you here,” he said with such arrogance that she was assured her desires would remain secret forever. “You have no idea how much liquor Whitelock’s driver can hold. It took an age for him to pass out.”
Incredulous, she shook her head. “Are you blind to your own manipulations?”
“You are putting your faith in the wrong man.” His charmer’s grin was absent now and something akin to irritation flashed in his gaze. “Perhaps those spectacles require new lenses. They certainly aren’t aiding your sight.”
“I wear these spectacles for reading, I’ll have you know. Otherwise, my vision is fine,” she countered. “I prefer to wear them instead of risking their misplacement.”
He gave a small cough of disbelief that irked her to no end. “You wear them like a shield of armor.”
“Preposterous. I’ve no need for a shield of any sort. I cannot help it if you are intimidated by my spectacles, and by my ability to see right through you.” She narrowed her eyes as he stepped closer, watching him as he slid the blank parchment toward him and withdrew the quill from the stand.
Ignoring her, he dipped the end into the ink and wrote something on the page.
Undeterred, she continued her harangue. “Though you may doubt it, I can easily spot those snakes—as you like to refer to members of your own sex—quite easily. I come to an understanding of a man’s character in moments of introduction. I am even able to anticipate his actions.”
He handed the parchment to her.
“As soon as you’ve finished reading this, I am going to kiss you.”