Barrett, surprised to learn he is heir to a marquessate, is determined his new
status won’t mean giving up his freedom. But as families from all over England
descend upon Somerfield Park for the shooting season, their unmarried daughters
are lining up to bag the newest trophy buck—him.
Or is he only
John’s instinct for
self-preservation inspires him to divide his attentions between a scandalous
young widow, and the safely ineligible Rebecca Kearsey, daughter of a destitute
The charade gives
John the illusion of controlling the game but when he loses his heart to the
beautiful Rebecca, all bets are off.
The road to love is never
easy and often times it takes some well-placed advice from an older and wiser
friend or relation to make Happily Ever After happen. For the denizens of Mia Marlowe’s Somerfield Park, the
Dowager Marchioness of Somerset, Lady Phillipa, is the lady to call upon for
any kind of advice. And so, to celebrate the June release of Never
Resist a Rake, we are pleased to share a piece of advice from Lady
plan must be enacted violently and without need of further discussion. More
talk would undoubtedly lead to more mistakes…”
John Fitzhugh Barrett was not going to make a fool of Baron
Kearsey’s daughter. No, sir. From all accounts, the new Lord Hartley had been
running with a fast crowd and had no doubt kissed dozens of women.
Fancy women. Loose women. Women whose kisses would turn a
man’s knees to water.
Rebecca would show him. A
virtuous girl was just as good as a bad girl. Better. She’d kiss him all right.
She’d kiss the man into next week.
She prided herself on reasoned
thought and knew she was being illogical, but before she could untangle all the
invalid syllogisms running through her head, she pressed her mouth against his
with such force, their eye teeth knocked together. No matter. He wasn’t going
to think her a missish little thing who kissed like an awkward first cousin.
She was going to put some passion into it.
As much as she knew about
passion, at any rate.
He covered her hands with his and
she realized he was trying to encourage her to soften her grip on his ears. So
she uncurled her fingers and slid her hands down to palm his cheeks.
He groaned into her mouth.
I’m getting good at this.
Then when he groaned again, she
decided it was probably not a good thing. There was a definite edge of pain in
the sound. Her fingertips were pressing too hard on the skin around his swollen
Botheration! There were so many things to think about all at once. She eased
up. Her lips softened and she slanted her mouth over his.
This time the groan was
different—pleased and needy all at once. A little feral.
The thrill of danger danced on
her spine. Imagining kissing a man was safe. Holy, almost. She could envision a
perfectly acceptable setting for the kiss—a garden in full bloom, an elegant
parlor after a well-spoken proposal, before an altar and a church full of
witnesses. Heaven knew, she’d dreamed of a kiss often enough.
Kissing a man for real as he
reclined in his bed was wicked beyond imagining.
Her imagined kisses were always
chaste too. This one was decidedly not. Something inside her went all warm and
John cupped the back of her head
with gentleness as he teased her lips to part by tracing the seam of them with
the tip of his tongue. She gave up, and he invaded her. His breath swirled into
her, filling her, drawing her back into him.
His tongue, oh Lud, his tongue…
Rebecca had never suspected a
kiss could be so…so…involving. It wasn’t just their mouths
meeting. Every fiber in her body strained toward him.
She had to stop right now or
she’d never be able to. She pulled back and, to her surprise, he let her go.
She almost expected him to drag her down onto the feather tick with him.
A wicked part of her was disappointed
when he didn’t.
Mia Marlowe is a rising star whose Touch of a Rogue was named one of Publishers Weekly‘s Top Ten Best Romances for Spring 2012. Mia learned about storytelling while singing professional opera. She knows what it’s like to sing a high “C” in a corset, so she empathizes with the trials of her historical heroines. Mia resides in Boston, Massachusetts. For more, visit www.miamarlowe.com.