Get swept away in this marriage of convenience historical romance.
Lady Isabella Pennington’s life is mired in scandal, but not of her own making.
As London’s gentry bask in her heartache, she devises a plan to avoid another disastrous engagement. But those plans go awry as she struggles to forget the rogue Captain Nicholas years after the passionate afternoon they spent together.
Her intention to adhere to societal demands is admirable but short-lived when Nicholas shocks everyone by asking for her hand in marriage. What unfolds leaves Lady Isabella torn between societal expectations and her long-held desire.
Captain Nicholas is far from an aristocrat yet is held in high regard in some circles. With his attention focused on Lady Isabella, it’s all she can do to resist the handsome devil. Will a marriage of convenience be a means to a much-coveted end, or will it lead to another humiliating failure for Lady Isabella?
Excerpt from The Captain’s Lady
“Are you drowning, Lady Isabella?” His Scottish accent was a bath in hot springs. His thumb brushed the tip of her nose. Lingered. Her nostrils flared and the scent of him invaded her senses. His hands snaked around her waist, guiding her closer.
“You,” Isabella whispered.
“Aye, me.” He kissed her cheek. “Is your nose still covered in freckles, lass?”
“Liar.” He brushed the tip of her nose with his. “Did he kiss you?” His lids lowered to watch her mouth. “I’ll be damned if I kiss you after him.”
“No.” She shivered, the sensation curling her toes in anticipation. “Emsley didn’t kiss me.” The man holding her in strong arms was something old, from her past, something forgotten. Isabella relaxed, molding against the captain. Oh, but she needed this, to feel like a woman again, alive and desired. His tongue brushed against her lips, not once but twice, tracing the outline of her mouth—a delightful distraction from her recent episode.
“Let me in, lass.”
His warm breath fanned her face. She had dreamed of this, years ago, when she was young and thought the world not full of danger but adventure. His gaze moved from her mouth, wet from the tantalizing brushes of his tongue, to her eyes. In the darkness of the night, his eyes were black fire. Hot. Wicked.
“What a bonnie reward for my second rescue.”
“You’ve botched your count, sir.”
“A new tally is in order, then.”
He smiled. His lips descended in slow torture, groaning his approval when his tongue brushed hers. All rational thoughts scattered. He explored her mouth. Heat pooled. Fanned out. The shudder that shook her was not from anger, but fear and desire.
The sea, that’s what he was. Raging waves that didn’t settle in the wee hours of dawn.