She seeks justice. He, revenge. And they'll never guess what they'll find.
A Daring Diary
Trapped in a loveless marriage, Lady Kate Fairchild found refuge in her diary, scene of
her fantasy affair. And now, even though her husband's death has set her free, no suitor
can thrill Kate quite like her phantom lover – until a duke with a murky past sears
her with his gaze...
A Dangerous Duke
Maxwell Brooke, Duke of Lyle, is hunting the arsonists who killed his family – and
Kate's brother knows where they hide. But when jailing him proves futile, Max kidnaps
Kate, demanding as ransom her brother's cooperation. Still, Max never counted on Kate's
rapier wit and heated kisses – and soon, desire wars with duty, even as real danger
stalks his captive lady...
A Delicious Deceit
When Kate threatens to publish a tell-all diary if her brother remains imprisoned, Max
hopes to protect her from the powerful men she intends to expose. Stealing the diary,
he spirits her off to a country estate. But the diary is nothing like he expected –
and when Max discovers Kate's sensual secrets, he can't resist exploiting them in every
way...
What they're saying...
"Wells sets bedrooms ablaze with more than candles in this sex-drenched tale set in 1817 London."
– Publishers Weekly (Read Full Review)
"Wells demonstrates what it takes to be a fan favorite by satisfying readers' cravings for adventurous, sexy romance."
– Romantic Times (Read Full Review)
"Wells expertly weaves a tale of danger, passion and intrigue..."
– Two Lips Reviews (Read Full Review)
Excerpt One
The musical voice persisted. "Is that you, Your Grace?"
The figure shifted, and the light from the flambeaux on either side of the doorway flared over her face.
Lady Kate Fairchild.
For one frozen, unsettling moment, Max forgot why he was there. She came towards him, and the soft light behind her silhouetted intriguing curves beneath her white silk gown. Her hair was piled high, with one thick, chestnut ringlet curled invitingly on her breast, and wispy tendrils escaped here and there to tickle her temples and nape. Though modestly cut, her gown showed enough of her creamy bosom to make his hands itch to explore.
Max watched her walk towards him, struck by the way she moved. Her Grecian robe stirred and rippled, caressing her slender, almost fragile body. Its skirts flared on a sudden gust of wind, allowing him a glimpse of slender ankles, criss-crossed by the straps of her gold Roman sandals.
Desire bunched inside him and rose in a powerful surge, hot and needy. Despite the circumstances, he had a compelling urge to drop what he was doing – literally – and pursue the opportunity this sudden encounter presented.
Damnation! He didn't need this. He couldn't allow a woman to distract him, even for a moment. Seduction might well play a part in his plans – certainly, seducing Lady Kate would be no hardship – but first, he must find out how much she knew and what she planned to do about it. Then he'd find a way to use her to wring information out of Stephen Holt.
Max inclined his head, the closest he could get to a bow in the circumstances. Dangling a man over a balustrade by his ankles tended to restrict one's freedom of movement. "My lady."
He continued to shield his victim from her with his body, but he didn't hold out much hope that she'd go away and leave him to finish his business with the fellow. Best to brazen it out, he supposed.
Lady Kate carried herself with unruffled grace, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Somehow, he doubted she was so sanguine. It couldn't be chance that brought her onto the terrace, where someone waited for her with a message. She must have arranged this meeting tonight.
He narrowed his eyes and focused on her face. "I thought you'd have joined your guests at the supper table by now."
"Yes, everyone is in the dining room, but I was obliged to slip out here first and repair a tear to the hem of my gown. So provoking!" She rolled her eyes and extracted a pin from her reticule. "Mr. Bellingham might be a political lightweight, but light on his feet he is not!"
Apparently oblivious to the faint grunts and groans of his companion, she joined Max, talking all the while. "Would you mind holding my reticule? I just need to... Oh! I do apologize." Her gaze fixed on his hands, which were still wrapped around his victim's ankles. She peered over the balustrade. "It rather seems you have your hands full already."
He looked down, feigning surprise. "Now, how did that get there?"
She gave him a quick, oblique glance, then leaned over to see his victim better, giving Max a magnificent view of her breasts. High and round, they were, despite her fairy-like figure. Not as big as his usual –
"He looks dreadfully uncomfortable," she said. "I suppose this is one of those juvenile pranks my brothers used to delight in. But the poor fellow! All the blood must be rushing to his head." She raised her voice. "Are you all right down there?"
"Help! Help me, my lady. Please!" Spindleshanks managed a feeble struggle, as if to emphasize his weakness. Max gripped him tighter.
She drew back, delicate fingers fluttering over her lips. "Oh, dear. I do hope you won't drop him. With the Prime Minister here, I mean. How would I look with a dead body in my garden and half the government in my dining room?"
Max could almost have smiled. He had to hand it to her. Cool as Gunter's ices, when she must be dying for news of her brother. "It would certainly make your party memorable."
"My parties are always memorable. I don't need a corpse in my rose beds for that."
Excerpt Two
There was an air of the uncivilized about Lyle this morning. Even though his clothes were arranged neatly, his cravat was not quite perfect, suggesting he hadn't changed his raiment since the night before. His dark hair remained tousled despite the finger – comb he'd given it earlier. He must not have shaved, because stubble covered the lower part of his face. The roughness of the skin surrounding his mouth seemed to make his lips appear softer, more sensual. Suddenly, the bedchamber seemed very small.
The duke lounged towards the bed where Kate sat, and her throat tightened, excitement surging through her body. Every inch of her reacted to this man and sprang to alertness. She no longer felt bruised and battered and weak. She felt as if she could run a mile.
"You weren't thinking of going anywhere, were you?" His deep voice reverberated through her, thrilling to her toes.
Kate's lips parted but she couldn't answer. Unusually for her, she seemed to have lost the power of speech.
Lyle stood within touching distance, looking down at her. She fought the craven urge to draw back. Her only path of retreat lay in moving deeper into the center of the bed. He might consider that an invitation.
The duke smiled, as if he knew her thoughts. "Because if you are well enough to attempt an escape, no doubt you're sufficiently fit for some other... activities I have in mind."
"No." Real fear gripped her. Despite the sudden spike of energy, she was far too weak to fight him. Part of her didn't even want to. That frightened her more than anything.
The expression in those merciless gray eyes showed serious intent, and she turned her head away so he wouldn't read the anguished indecision in hers. She'd never thought to end her years of celibacy like this.
But his hands cupped her head, threading fingers through her unbound hair. Thumbs stroked the tender skin beneath her eyes, sweeping outwards along her cheekbones with infinite gentleness.
Kate's eyelids fluttered closed. His fingertips moved through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. As his thumbs circled her temples, she felt the pain and tension flow out of her body.
He increased the pressure to a deeper massage, and she gripped the bedclothes to stop swaying into his touch. Against her will, a soft moan of pleasure escaped her.
Abruptly, his hands left their task. Kate opened her eyes, conscious of disappointment and a tidal wave of relief. A moment later, she realized her headache had abated, though it hadn't disappeared entirely.
She looked up at him, and his eyes blazed like winter fire.
"Lie back, Lady Kate."
