A proper young lady should never attend a Masque…Aphrodite is no lady.
Betrothal to the callous Lord Blackhall painted a future devoid of love. Upon his death, Lady Caroline Wilmont is promised to the younger brother. Caroline refuses to allow her first taste of desire to be at the hands of a man who would rather have any woman but her. This, her last night of freedom, is to be a memory of lust that she can take with her throughout her loveless marriage. As Aphrodite, Caroline attends a masque determined to find a man to initiate her into the intimacies of erotic love.
Taran Robertson, Viscount of Blackhall, makes no secret that he despises his obligation to marry the Sassenach heiress chosen for him by his father. As a last foray before his wedding, he attends a masque. However, the spirited vixen he meets and seduces has secrets…secrets that just may reveal he’s to have an improper wife.
Yes, this is my latest release, another collaboration with the uber-fabulous KyAnn Waters. We had a great deal of fun writing this book, and Total E-Bound did a beautiful job with our cover!
So what's being said about An Improper Wife?
So our naughty tale begins by getting lost in a garden maze, watching an erotic display, to end up in a hired coach so they can discover their passion. Taran is blown away by the mixture of innocence and temptress wrapped up in this small package. Caroline is overwhelmed at finally being able to taste passion's kiss and completely loses herself to her dark fantasies. She wishes to burn herself into his memory. They both feel the pull of something more than desire, but are bound by duty to part ways.
This is an intriguing tale that has you laughing and hanging on the edge of your seat. I thought it was an amazing collaboration, and look forward to reading something from these ladies in the future!! You will not be disappointed in the wild and proper Lady who wins her rugged Scottish Lard. It is indeed a book worth reading more than once! Close Encounters with the Night Kind
Now for the good stuff–
He cupped her derriere, lifted her more intimately against his arousal, and rested his forehead against hers, their masks touching.
“Let me touch you.”
Her pulse jumped. They were alone. Margaret believed she had fled the masque. What could a little touch hurt?
“Yes,” she whispered before she could change her mind.
He set her feet back on the ground, then slipped a finger beneath the dress and shoulder. Goose flesh raced along her arms where his warm fingers touched her. She shivered. His gaze remained on her breasts as he slipped the dress off her arms. The fabric dropped to her elbows, exposing both breasts.
Silence drew out between them. She trembled, but knew it was fear and not the damp air that crept across her flesh. What had happened? Had he changed his mind? Caroline stiffened. Was she not beautiful enough? She lifted her gaze to find obsidian eyes staring from within the slits of the mask. He stared for another long moment, then lifted a hand and cupped a breast. She shuddered.
His mouth curved into a slight smile. “Do I please you, Aphrodite?”
Caroline stared, unable to utter a sound. He gave a low laugh, then bent and traced a circle around her nipple with his tongue. Cool night air chilled the places his hot mouth and tongue touched. She grasped his shirt. A woman’s moan of pleasure abruptly intruded on their solitude.
He straightened. Caroline yanked her bodice over her breasts. He pulled her close, sheltering her from view. Whispered words drifted toward them from around the bend in the direction of the maze entrance.
“Bloody hell,” Caroline cursed.
He looked down at her. “Interesting vocabulary, my lady.”
She scowled. “Not nearly as interesting as our present position.”
“Indeed.”
There was no mistaking the laughter in his voice and Caroline narrowed her eyes with the intent to chastise him when the woman giggled.
Caroline jerked her gaze in the direction of the voices. “They are searching for a private nook.”
“I shall inform them this particular nook is occupied.”
He started to turn and she seized his arm. “No!” The voices drew closer. “Good God.”
Caroline released him and rearranged the sash. The bodice didn’t fit as snugly as it had earlier.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Do you think we will be discovered?”
“There is always a chance.”
More giggles followed, closer this time. Caroline squinted past him into the shadows. Warm fingers grazed her cheek beneath her mask. She jerked her gaze up to his. He stared down at her and her pulse spiked. A woman’s low moan sounded nearer. Caroline’s masked lord grasped her shoulders and maneuvered them a few inches to the left, then back between the bench and denser foliage. Rustling of fabric drew her attention and she peered around his broad shoulders.
“Shh,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
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