The sequel to the Amazon best-seller, Compromising Miss Tisdale, is available now...
Miss Tamsin Tisdale
believes herself to be completely unsuitable for London life. After a myriad of
social mishaps, and the potential ruination of her family name, she’s shipped
away to her cousin’s northern estate. Only after she accepts the type of
existence Society dictates she must follow will she be welcomed home.
Marcus Winston, the
Duke of Grayson, has a lackluster reputation. The last in a dying line, he’s
endured a protected life—rank with privilege, but encumbered by isolation.
After a brief encounter with rebellion, he learns the devastating consequences
of his carelessness and willingly accepts living life from inside his gilded
cage.
However, a chance
meeting with the brazen Miss Tisdale gives Marc the opportunity to reinvent
himself into the man he’s always dreamed of being. But when his deception comes
to light, and ghosts from both their pasts threaten to unravel the intimacy
they’ve come to cherish, will either of them set their fears aside long enough
to embrace love? Or will Miss Tisdale’s stubbornness divide them?
Marc watched the faint outline come
across the dense morning fog, becoming more discernible as it approached. The
tall, thin figure was riding along at a perilous speed, given the morning’s
lack of visibility. He thought perhaps it was some gangly young man misguided
in the fog. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accidentally stumbled upon
the vast property that made up his family’s immodest estate.
Then the fog parted in an almost
biblical manner, revealing his gross inaccuracy.
Were those ... breasts?
Marc closed his eyes and thought for a
moment. Typically, women didn’t ride alone at such an hour and they certainly
did not wander unexpectedly across his property. It’d been quite a while, his
last birthday to be exact, since his last intimate
encounter with a woman—a gift, compliments of St. Regis—so there was always the
possibility that perhaps his half-drunk, sex-starved mind had conjured up the
sensual image.
He shook his head, opened his eyes, and
looked back again toward the horizon.
Yes,
those were most certainly breasts.
And she
was most definitely not a young man.
The woman’s riding habit pulled taut against her body as she raced toward him.
Her hair was blowing behind her—various hues of auburn and gold, like wild
flames curling about in the wind. Then a decidedly feminine voice burst through
the morning’s silence, interrupting his self-doubt.
“Oh, thank goodness I found you!”
This was no mirage. She was indeed very real.
And very
loud.
1 comment:
Sounds like a great story, looking forward to reading it!
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