Petunia and the Pearl Diver: A hot Regency romance. Petunia needs money to save her aristocratic family. The pearl diver needs a woman to save him, body and soul. Their night together at a London brothel could solve both problems. But can their relationship survive in the real world?Because walking away becomes impossible when one night leaves them craving more…and more.
Book Hook: Petunia pointed the whip at the pearl diver a second time. “Move.” She gave him her sternest look. “Onto the bed.” The whiptail ran smoothly back and forth through her fingers, hopefully reinforcing the idea that she was an experienced mistress of punishments. “Now.”
The captain’s eyebrows shot upwards and he finally focused on her face, or as much as her sleek leather mask allowed him to see. Good. Without his full attention, Petunia had no hope of carrying out this farce. He unwound his lean length the way she imagined he’d unwind coiled rope on his pearl trawler. Slowly, carefully, and as sensually as a dancer, he straightened to his full height, putting him a good foot taller than her. Her heart thudded in her chest and her pulse raced.
If he stirred her lust merely by standing up, she’d never survive the sensual overload if they danced at a ball and he held her in his arms. She shivered. Dancing with him was one of the things that must never happen, because the close contact might trigger the memory of when her brother had introduced them. If they met at a formal social occasion, she prayed he’d never associate that well-bred lady with a girl he’d paid for in a brothel, because she’d heard that war had changed him and she didn’t know if it was for the better, or worse.
As the Duke of Stirkton, Max was well accustomed to being watched. Young pups copied his dress style. Toad-eaters mimicked his behavior in futile attempts to ingratiate themselves into his life. Conservative groups applauded his somber public behavior, while cartoonists ridiculed his straight-laced demeanor and suggested he take a mistress. Or two.
Whichever way people viewed him, no one had dared ridicule him to his face. Until this evening. The Countess had side-stepped his butler and marched into his drawing room as if an unannounced call upon an unmarried duke was something she did regularly. Max had informed her, in great detail, of the extensive search he and his cousin had undertaken to locate her and the other women. She’d huffed and rolled her eyes.
Normally, his month-about- mistresses gleefully accepted his proposal because sharing a duke’s bed for a month would set them up for the rest of their lives. Apart from the financial benefits, he was a generous lover. One benefit of his abnormal upbringing had been an early and full education into what women wanted in a bed partner. Until the Countess had laughed at him, he’d never had reason to doubt his sexual prowess. In the brief time she’d been in his house, she’d challenged several of his beliefs.
“It’s the ideal solution.” And something he needed. “I will help you search my grandfather’s boxes by day and, in exchange, you’ll make yourself available to me in the evenings.” Max waited, unsure what to expect. An odd situation for a man who prided himself on reading adversaries as easily as he tallied the accounts. books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Tortured duke reunites with mysterious lady to unravel past secrets and expose evil men. #RegencyRomance. #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency #historicaleroticromance books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
1821, April 1st; Duke of Stirkton’s residence, Mayfair, London. Being the object of someone’s ridicule might be a novel experience for Maximus Meacham, Duke of Stirkton, but it wasn’t one he cared to repeat, even if the woman laughing at his proposal spoke like a queen and looked like a goddess.
As the Duke of Stirkton, he was well accustomed to being watched. Young pups copied his dress style. Toad-eaters mimicked his behavior in futile attempts to ingratiate themselves into his life. Conservative groups applauded his somber public behavior, while cartoonists ridiculed his straight-laced demeanor and suggested he take a mistress. Or two.
Whichever way people viewed him, no one had dared ridicule him to his face. Until this evening. The Countess had side-stepped his butler and marched into his drawing room as if an unannounced call upon an unmarried duke was something she did regularly. Max had informed her, in great detail, of the extensive search he and his cousin had undertaken to locate her and the other women. She’d huffed and rolled her eyes. Normally, his month-about- mistresses gleefully accepted his proposal because sharing a duke’s bed for a month would set them up for the rest of their lives. Apart from the financial benefits, he was a generous lover. One benefit of his abnormal upbringing had been an early and full education into what women wanted in a bed partner. Until the Countess had laughed at him, he’d never had reason to doubt his sexual prowess. In the brief time she’d been in his house, she’d challenged several of his beliefs.
“It’s the ideal solution.” And something he needed. “I will help you search my grandfather’s boxes by day and, in exchange, you’ll make yourself available to me in the evenings.” Max waited, unsure what to expect. An odd situation for a man who prided himself on reading adversaries as easily as he tallied the accounts.
Duke of Stirkton throws off his rigid upbringing after his grandfather’s death to assist the countess. #HistoricalMystery #ReadARegency #RegencyRomance #HistoricalEroticRomance books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Max shuddered at Carina’s passion-hazed command to make love to her, self-doubts rose like a thunder cloud. “Love making between us is impossible.” As soon as he’d spat out the harsh words, he regretted them. She pulled back. “Forgive me, but we cannot forget who we are and where we are. Let’s not delude ourselves, or lie to each other.”
She stared with unblinking, moisture-filled eyes, and that blasted pain shot straight through to his gut and caused a raw burn. She stopped his absent-minded rubs at his midriff. “Are you suffering some sort of aliment in your abdomen?”
He bristled. “Of course not. I enjoy perfect health.”
She lifted a brow. “Your veins may run with the bluest blood, but your human form suffers from the same frailties as the rest of us lower mortals. I’ve noticed that you rub your stomach quite often. Perhaps you should consult a physician.”
“Ridiculous charlatans. I’ll not listen to another swindler promising to cure a simple digestive disorder by bleeding me dry with leeches.”
She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Max. You’ve already visited physicians.”
“It’s nothing.”
Four Times A Virgin: Duke makes amends to Countess but will exposing past evils put her in more danger? #HistoricalMystery #RegencyRomance #EroticRomance books2read.com/suziloveFTAV
Pleasure House Ball: Brenton, Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughter. Though mortified that Brenton unmasks her at a scandalous ball, Lady Lillian Armstrong doesn’t regret their night together. Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Excerpt: For himself, Brent was past caring if he was seen at a courtesan’s ball, even stark naked, but he’d never risk Lillian’s reputation. The only garment within reach in the cupboard they were hiding is was a silk robe covered in pink and purple cabbage roses and with a frilled neckline but, deciding that beggars couldn’t be choosy, he shoved his arms into the sleeves and tied the belt at his waist.
Lillian clamped two hands over her mouth to stop giggles from escaping, but he gave a what-else-can-I-do shrug and pretended his masculinity remained intact, despite the feminine gilding. Thankfully, she seemed composed, which was in direct contrast to his own distress, emotional and physical, at not managing their time together better.
Counting backwards from a hundred usually calmed him and had taken the edge of the anger and frustration he’d suffered during the last months of his marriage, so he closed his eyes and focused on counting. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven—
‘Bloody hell,’ Brent yelled. Lillian had wrapped a hand around him just as the wardrobe’s door flew open and four faces peered inside.
Lillian screamed. Brent pushed her firmly behind him and she burrowed behind his broad back and pulled the scarf across her face. He addressed the occupants of the room as if it was an every day occurrence to hide in a cupboard at an orgy. ‘Hello Browning, and Browning’s guests,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Having a nice foursome?’
Before Lillian had dipped her head, she’d glimpsed the faces of their four onlookers. Faces that showed emotions ranging from utter amusement from their host, Browning, curiosity from his companions. Perhaps for them hiding in a cupboard was normal. The thought made her giggle again and she tried to poke her head out from behind Brent’s silk clad bottom to see what Browning would do, but Brent reached behind him and pushed her head down again.
‘Glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mallory.’ Browning’s amusement sounded in his voice, and she sensed that he was attempting to shift Brent aside so he could get a look at her face. ‘Didn’t think naked romps were your cup of tea these days, old boy.’
Book Hooks: Brent was past caring if he was seen at a courtesan’s ball. #RegencyRomance #HistRom #ReadARegency #EroticRomance books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Pleasure House Ball: Brenton, Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughter. Though mortified that Brenton unmasks her at a scandalous ball, Lady Lillian Armstrong doesn’t regret their night together. Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Excerpt
‘Lillian,’ Brent hissed through gritted teeth. ‘Have you been paying attention to me? I know most of the gentlemen attending this ball and there isn’t one of them that’s good enough for you.’
‘Not even you?’ At his shocked look, she waved her hand between them. ‘Sorry. I know you’re not interested in me. Not in that way, anyway.’
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, hard. Was she mistaken? Did he find her attractive, after all? Because, Lord knew, she found him, and his muscled body, very enticing. Many a time she’d ridden behind him purposely so she could watch his taut behind rise and fall in the saddle, his thighs stretched tight as he rose slightly in the stirrups and his coat pulling across wide shoulders. She’d secretly been pleased that he wouldn’t allow visitors to his house, declaring that he and his daughter were still grieving. Though she knew that was a fabrication to prevent his mother from bringing a constant stream of eligible ladies to visit, she enjoyed being the only woman who saw him dressed down and carefree as they rode together. Which they did often.
With her head tilted to one side so she could peer up at him, she said, ‘Are you? Interested in me that way? As a woman.’
She heard the hiss of his indrawn breath and sensed she was about to be rejected. Being rejected by her husband had wounded her feminine pride, though even that pain hadn’t destroyed her. By contrast, if her best friend, the man that knew her better than her mother, turned away from her, the pain would kill her. She spun towards the door, desperate to escape.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Her companion, Maggie, stepped through the balcony doorway and strode towards her. She eyed Brenton, slowly appraising him from top to toe, before turning her back to him. ‘I was worried when I couldn’t find you. Are you all right?’
Brenton stepped around Maggie and gave her the same disdainful look as she’d given him. He gave a small bow and said, ‘I’m Brenton. And your name is…?’
Maggie rolled her eyes. ‘I know better than to reveal myself here. And I already know who you are, my lord.’
Lillian squirmed when Brent’s gaze flicked towards her and back to Maggie. ‘I’ve told my friend about you, Brent.’
‘I see.’ He turned to Maggie and leaned in close. ‘And what sort of friend are you that you brought a young woman to an event that caters to less than respectable ladies?’
‘The best sort, my lord.’ Maggie didn’t flinch form Brent’s blunt question. ‘The sort of friend who recognizes that a woman has been scarred by men and life and needs a chance to enjoy herself without censure. Needs a night of fun and frolic, rather than one of fear and loneliness.’
‘Loneliness?’ Brent repeated the word in surprise and looked at Lillian. ‘Is she correct? You’ve been lonely.’
‘In my marriage, yes, I was lonely. Geoffrey didn’t like me to see my own friends or family too much. He wanted me at home, where he could keep me under control, or attending events on his arm. A decorative addition to enhance his reputation as a man who purchased only the best quality goods. Immaculate clothing, flashy carriage, well-bred horses, and a household where he ruled supreme. There was little room for me to breathe.’
He touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry to have failed you so badly. I was so swept up in my own misery and battling to keep my wife’s affairs under wraps that I gave no thought to how your life was when in London.’
Book Hooks: Brent looked at Lillian. ‘Is she correct? You’ve been lonely.’#RegencyRomance #HistRom #ReadARegency #EroticRomance books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Pleasure House Ball: Brenton, Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughter. Though mortified that Brenton unmasks her at a scandalous ball, Lady Lillian Armstrong doesn’t regret their night together. Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Excerpt
‘Brent, why are you eager for me to risk a repeat of my miserable marriage?’ Lady Lillian asked. ‘When you’ve declared that you’ll never marry again.’
‘Because you’re a woman and I’m a man.’
Lillian’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s a very biased view, and I thought you better than that.’
Brent groaned. ‘You’re right. It’s unfair to tell you to risk more unhappiness when I won’t.’
‘Everyone knows you’re avoiding your family because they push eligible ladies towards you. They want you to remarry and give your daughter a new mother.’
‘They’ve no right to interfere in our lives, mine or my daughter’s. We’re happy as we are, the two of us.’
‘Your wife hurt you, deeply, and so you’ve refused to even speak to the women your mother thinks suitable.’
‘I speak to you.’
‘Only because I visit you and drag you away from your house to go riding. I refuse to let you retreat from the world. You’re a wonderful man with a lot to give to another woman. To another wife.’
‘You’re the only lady that I can tolerate being near for more than ten minutes.’
‘And you’re the only man I’d select for a second husband, and you’re against marriage.’ She looked towards a group of men smoking at the far end of the verandah. ‘Hence my venture into the unknown tonight. The sedate balls are full of married men or old lechers, as all the exciting men are here instead.’ She pointed towards the cluster of five or six young men. ‘Perhaps one of them might be the boost I need to restore my faith in the male gender. A virile young man who knows about pleasurable sex.’
He scowled as he watched the young men laugh and slap each other on the back. ‘Those pups are too inexperienced to give a woman pleasure. At that age, it’s all over too quickly. You need someone who will leave you limp with pleasure.’ He shook his head and seemed to collect himself.
Lillian swallowed. She didn’t doubt that Brent knew many ways to make sex exciting and unforgettable, but there was no point imagining herself with him when she knew how studiously he avoided contact with women these days. Well, except for her and his cook.
‘Not all men are cruel,’ he was saying when she paid attention to his words rather than the way his trousers stretched across his groin when he had his hands on his hips and his coat tails pulled aside. ‘Some husbands value their wives and treat them like queens.’
She sighed. ‘A nice thought, Brent, but unless you can introduce me to one of those paragons of husbands, I’m reduced to finding my excitement with one of the gentlemen here tonight.’
PHB_Lord Mallory, attends first courtesan’s ball in years to appease concerned friends. http://books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Book Hooks: ‘Why are you eager for me to risk a repeat of my miserable marriage?’ Lady Lillian asked. #RegencyRomance #HistRom #ReadARegency #EroticRomance books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Pleasure House Ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats. Love revealed at a courtesan’s ball. Brenton, Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughters. books2read.com/suzilovePHB
Carina, Countess of Dorchester, glanced out at the square for the twentieth time and clutched the window casing for support when she saw that striding along the pavement towards her house was an exceedingly tall man, dressed in up-to-the minute fashion and wreathed in an aura of power and control. The Duke of Stirkton cut such a superior figure that men stepped aside and women turned to stare as he passed them on the footpath. The fact that he was oblivious to their attention and admiration made him more interesting, and for the first time in many years, Carina felt a glimmer of hope.
“Oh, Gertie, yes, yes,” she said, clapping her hands and spinning in a giddy circle before the window. “I think Georgie’s way out is about to present itself, and sooner than we thought.”
Gertie joined her at the window but groaned aloud. “Oh, no, no, no, Carina! Not him. The Duke of Stirkton is not the best person to help us introduce the girls to gentlemen.”
“Why not? He may not be a perfect solution but, with his influence in society, he may provide our best way forward.”
“You were only going to ask to see his grandfather’s papers. Look at whatever the Duke may have already found, whether it’s letters, directions, or anything else to help us work out the names and locations of those two men.”
Why shouldn’t Lady Lillian take the chance of a night’s fun and freedom, hidden from high-society an out of reach of the duke’s continual criticisms? She’d lost enough of her life while married to a man who didn’t deserve either her patience or her fortitude. Starting tonight, she’d take control of herself and rebirth the confident and happy person that only appeared now when she was staying at her father’s country estate.
She’d been excited about this night for weeks and she’d no intention of running away before she’d explored and widened her experience, though only visually. Not even if Brenton threatened to expose her, or worse, visit her father and reveal where she’d been. Stiffening her spine, she took Brenton’s hand and, after muttering a quick apology to her cluster of admirers, led him straight to one of the balcony doors. She didn’t stop until they were in a darkened section of the balcony where no one could overhear their conversation.
She dropped his hand and turned to lean on the veranda rail and stared out at the garden. ‘What are you doing here?’ She spoke without turning to face him, both mortified and terrified that he’d discovered her here.
‘Michael dragged me here.’ He caught her wrist and tugged her around to face him. ‘Who is that woman you are with? Did she bring you here?’ He ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself and dampen down his anger. ‘Of course she brought you here. You wouldn’t have known to come to a place like this otherwise. Did she coerce you in some way?’
Lillian chuckled. ‘Do you truly believe me such an innocent that I don’t know the location of brothels or the estate houses that hold balls where the main guests are ladies of the night? I’m not that naïve, Brent. When I was a married woman, the other married ladies spoke constantly about the state of their marriages. Those conversations included such things as where their husbands, fathers, or brothers went to visit paid women, and what happened in those places.’ She snorted. ‘They’d no idea that my own marriage was so dismal that the only times my husband touched me in bed was those rare occasions when he remembered he was supposed to breed a son and so made an appointment for the next night to visit my bedchamber. Even during those ten dreadful minutes he spent with me, he never thought to explain what happened between a man and a woman, or about how children were conceived. My mother, the duchess, gave me a one sentence explanation on my wedding day of how to act with my husband and the need to create a child, but she unfortunately never gave me the information I needed about what physical intimacy entailed, so the first time my husband lifted the hem of my night dress, I panicked.’
