Jonathan St. Laurent walked up the steps to the Sheridan townhouse, his heart racing. She was inside. The little sprite who had fueled too many fantasies of late. Her dark-brown eyes gazing into his, the deep rich coils of her russet-brown locks spread out over a pillow, her lips parted as she gasped and moaned his name. She was a woman full of passionand she scared the bloody hell out of him. She was the only woman he'd ever met who seemed to know exactly who she was and what she wanted out of life. She'd never want a man like him, not really. Her interest in him was no more than a game to her.And I'm the fool who wants to marry her, if she'll have me.He paused at the closed door, hesitating. Sweat gathered in his palms as he fought off a rush of nerves. He tugged on his riding gloves, trying to prepare himself to enter. Jonathan paused as he stared hard at the iron lion's head knocker.Last Christmas he had made a mess of things, but to be fair, she'd caught him off guard. Lucie
Audrey's breath burst from her lungs as Jonathan climbed the central stairs leading up to the other rooms in the Midnight Garden. He stopped only once, to demand a bedchamber, while Audrey shrieked until he smacked her arse with one hand. The blow hadn't hurt, but the message it sent was clearshe was no longer in charge. Normally, a loss of control would terrify her, but with Jonathan, it heated her blood. It made her feel faint.Probably because you're hanging upside down, you silly fool. She refused to let her body betray her, not when she had vowed to stop finding Jonathan attractive.He opened the door to the bedroom and slid the lock into place with a frightening finality before he set her down on the bed. Audrey's breath came easier. She would recover from being carried around like a sack of potatoes. Her artfully styled hair had started to come undone, and she pulled a few pins out of her messy locks and tossed them to the floor in frustration."Why didn't you just take me ho
Jonathan swallowed down the acidic taste of disappointment as he watched Audrey flee. The words "Will you marry me?" withered upon his lips and died. She didn't even want to hear him out. He'd given up on resisting her and had decided he would take the risk and propose. But now she didn't want him. Had it all been some elaborate game she was playing? Seduce a former servant and risk the scandal? When faced with actually marrying him, she ran away as fast as she could.Jonathan leaned back against the wall in the bedchamber, his chest tight with an almost unbearable pain. He didn't want any other woman, could have no other but the very woman who didn't want him.He glanced at the mirror, replaying every exquisite and torturous moment of having Audrey come apart in his arms. He'd received no pleasure of his own other than watching her climax. She'd closed her eyes, those dark sooted lashes fanned across her cheeks and those kissable lips parted, her pink kittenish tongue licking them
League Rule 17:Never let your title, or a lack of one, define who you are.Excerpt from the Quizzing Glass Gazette, September 9, 1821, the Lady Society column:Lady Society is quite frustrated with gentlemen as of late, especially those of a roguish nature. In particular, she is casting her disapproving eye on Mr. St. Laurent, the younger brother to the Duke of Essex. This gentleman has attempted a callous seduction of a young lady of the ton and then rebuffed her when she conveyed her interest. Mr. St. Laurent, you cannot play the cat to a mouse with a woman who is no longer in the game. It is over. Leave the lady be since you have no desire to marry her. Consider yourself warned."Consider myself warned?" Jonathan St. Laurent stared at the paper he had stolen from Lucien, the Marquess of Rochester. The two were settled comfortably in a room at Berkley's club, awaiting the arrival of their friends for their weekly drinks and cigars.The red-haired marquess chuckled. "You hav
Audrey Sheridan was facing the worst night of her life.Her mad dash from the seductive arms of Jonathan St. Laurent at the Midnight Garden earlier that afternoon had sent her on a reckless crusade this evening. And that mission was now crumbling around her.It was all Jonathan's fault. He had the audacity to waltz into her life at the worst possible moment. When she had decided to marry him after they first met, he'd simply ignored her at every turn. Then when she decided she no longer wanted to marry him because he continued with his cold, aloof manner, he'd ruined that as well by kissing her senseless, showing her a glorious world of pleasure she'd never known existed. And of course, he'd had to rush into the middle of her espionage training like a raging bull, insisting she was the daft one, pulling her into his arms andWell. That had been that. She'd dashed away from everything those lips of his promised and straight into this perilous situation. She'd been so desperate to for
This had better work. Jonathan opened his eyes as the coach came to a stop in front of his townhouse on Half Moon Street. Every muscle ached, and he wanted nothing more than to drink a bottle of scotch and collapse into his bed. But he had his future wifeGod willingto deal with first. He left the coach before her, ignoring her scowl. Then he waited patiently, holding out his hand to help her exit the coach, but she didn't budge."Audrey""I am not getting out. You may tell the driver to take me home." Her haughty reply would have made him chuckle at any other time, but tonight he was too bloody tired for her games."You are going to make me carry you, aren't you?""You will do no such thing. I'm going home." He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the pout in her tone.He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he leaned into the coach and grabbed her by the waist. She was such a delicate, curvy creature; he had no trouble lifting her out, despite her furious protests."
Gerald Langley rose from the floor of the hallway of his club, his head aching. He coughed and brushed plaster dust off his body. The world around him was in a state of destruction. The dining room was littered with spilled trays of food, chairs were overturned, and the acrid smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air. The house was silent; not a single member of his club was still around. The cowards. He rose to his feet, stumbling a little as he called out for his butler. There was no answer. Even the servants had fled? He would fire each and every last one of them for their disloyalty."Clayton," he bellowed. "Where the bloody hell are you?"He stumbled down the hall into his private study. This house was the headquarters to his club, the Unholy Sinners of Hell, but he often stayed here when he didn't wish to go to his townhouse in Mayfair. Lately he had spent more and more of his time here thanks to that bitch Lady Society. He'd been so close to ending that problem once and for
When Jonathan rose from bed just before dawn, Audrey was already awake. It was typical for her to rise early, but the mad escape from the hellfire club had sent a current of unease flowing through her that had left her more alert than she otherwise would have been. She blamed that unease for her body moving toward Jonathan throughout the night, until she ended up almost curled around his body as he slept. She'd woken to his scent and the warm press of his skin to hers. He'd managed to curl one arm around her, holding her to him, and she'd been unwilling to push away because it had felt too wonderful.But now, with the cold absence of his body, she found the strength to scramble from the bed and dress. She rang for a maid, who helped her do up her corset and the buttons on her gown. She could still hear Jonathan moving about in the other room, and she took a moment to hastily scrawl a note to him."Keep your end of the agreement. Our lessons must begin soon."Then she went in search