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Adam Felkirk, Duke of Bellston, had no intention of taking a wife. But then Penelope's plight moved him. Now the notorious rake has a new aim—to shock and seduce his prim and proper bride.
But the gorgeous duke will be taught a lesson of his own as scholarly Miss Winthorpe becomes his seductive duchess!
288 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published June 1, 2007
They would live, happily ever after, as was told in folk tales. Just not with each other.
(p. 51)
"I never thought ..."
"That you would tell anyone besides the bank that you had wed?"
"That anyone would care," she said.
"I have no idea what people might think of your marriage," he responded. "But if I marry, all of London will care."
She took a gulp of her own wine. "That is most conceited of you, sir."
"But no less true."
(p. 83)
"I am sorry to have inconvenienced you," he said, not the least bit contrite. "But I will need an heir. Once one has married, it makes sense to look at the obvious solution to the problem."
"And you would ... with me ... and we ..."
He nodded. "Two male children are preferable, but one might be sufficient. If it was a boy, and healthy. If the first is a daughter, then ..."
"But that would mean ... we would ... more than once ..."
"Most certainly. Repeatedly. For several years at least."
Repeatedly. She sat there, eyes round, mouth open, mind boggled. Unable to speak at all.
(p. 212)
He thought of her eyes again, and imagined a brood of little eyes following him with that same direct stare: dangerously clever children with insatiable curiosity. The prospect intrigued him, [...]
(p. 50)
He looked up to into the mirror to see his wife standing in the connecting doorway behind him. He didn't realise he had been holding his breath until he felt it expel from his lungs in a long, slow sigh. It was his wife, most certainly. But transformed. The gown was a pale green, and with her light hair and fair skin, she seemed almost transparent. As she came towards him, he imagined he was seeing a spirit, a ghost that belonged to the house, that had been there long before he had come.
[...]
His friends would not call her a beauty, certainly. She was most unlike all the other women who were lauded as such. But suddenly it did not matter what his friends might say. It only mattered what he knew in his heart to be true---she looked as she was meant to look. And now that he had removed her from whatever magic realm she had inhabited, he was overcome with the desire to protect her from the coarse harshness of the world around them.
(p. 172)
And then she noticed the silence emanating from the room.
[...]
Her husband spoke. "I find her appearance to be singular. Her eyes, especially, are most compelling. Not to everyone's taste, perhaps, but very much to mine. You might wish to remember that, in future, if you wish to visit my home." The warning in his voice was clear, and she imagined him the way he had been when he stood up to her brother. Quiet, but quite frightening. Her jaw dropped. There was more muttering in the room, and a hurried apology from John.
[...]
She leaned her back to the wall, and let the plaster support her as the room began to spin. The Duke of Bellston found her "singular." Whatever did that mean? If another had said it, she'd have thought it was faint praise, and that the speaker had been too kind to say "odd." But from Adam's lips? It had sounded like "rare." As though she was something to be sought for and kept safe.
(p. 194-195)
"If the world were different, and we were all free, you would have done better to choose him, for his temperament would suit you." Adam's face darkened and his lips twisted in a bitter smile. "But I find that I do not care, when you are near, what is best for you or that you deserve better. You are mine, and I want to keep you all to myself." His smile softened as he remembered. "It was so good, being alone with you. And you seemed content with just me for company."
(p. 277)
She stepped closer and reached out a hand to him, touching his hair, and trailing her fingers slowly down his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head to press kisses into her palm, seizing her hand in his so that she could not pull away. And she felt the familiar thrill of power at the sight of him, cradling her hand as though he feared the loss of her touch. He kissed her knuckles again, and bowed his head to her. "My fate is yours to decide, Penny. I will do as you wish in all things. I will go tonight, if you say I must. But I beg you, do not be apart from me, for I fear I shall go mad with the loss of you."
(p. 280)