Scene set-up
Humbly
born Nell Trim blames the Marquess of Leath for her beloved half-sister’s death
– and she knows just how to ruin him. With her dying words, Dorothy mentions a
diary that lists Leath’s conquests. Publication of this diary will destroy the
marquess’s lifelong political ambitions and turn him into a social pariah. Nell takes a position in Leath’s household as
first a housemaid, then as his mother’s companion. Unfortunately for her, James
Fairbrother isn’t the monster she expected, but an irresistibly attractive man.
Desperate to escape this wicked temptation, Nell takes the risk of looking for
the diary in Leath’s bedroom. When Leath catches her in the act, she tries to
distract him with a kiss – but things don’t go quite the way she imagined they
would.
If you'd like to read another excerpt from A SCOUNDREL BY MOONLIGHT, click here!
Smooch -
For a long moment, Leath watched Nell with an unreadable
expression. His hands dug into her shoulders and she feared that he was about
to shove her out the door. She was bizarrely reluctant to go.
His hold softened in a way she couldn’t describe. Her skin
tightened with anticipation. Slowly his lips skimmed across hers in a caress as
different from her all-out assault as satin from iron.
The kiss lasted only a second, yet flooded her with such longing
that her knees buckled. She leaned back against the door.
He still looked uncompromising. His features were all hard planes:
strong bones, jutting nose, adamantine jaw.
Yet his lips…His lips had been softer than a feather.
She snatched a jagged breath and struggled to speak, but before
she could, he gave her another of those sweet kisses. Did he linger this time?
Taste her as delicately as he’d sample a fine claret?
Her breath caught as he raised his head and regarded her with
familiar concentration. To steady herself, she hooked her hands around his
neck. “That was…”
Lovely? Wrong? Frightening? Beguiling?
Heaven help her. Heaven condemn her. She’d started this. Now she’d
opened the gates to destruction on a level she’d never contemplated.
One thumb trailed down her jaw, leaving a tingling wake. His lips
quirked in a faint smile that set her heart cartwheeling. The huskiness in his
voice stroked across her nerves like silk. His clean, male scent surrounded
her, too familiar in a man who should be a stranger. “You’re not usually lost
for words, Miss Trim.”
She’d never been kissed before. She’d always imagined that whoever
the lucky fellow was, he’d use her Christian name. Still, something about the
way his lordship said “Miss Trim” made her shiver with excitement. And God
forgive her, lately when she’d imagined kisses, the man kissing her had been
Lord Leath.
Nell felt as if she toppled over a cliff. She should flee, forsake
her quest for vengeance, forget that however unacceptable the attraction, she
found this man so appealing. She should scuttle back to Mearsall and her dear,
kind stepfather, and her dull existence, and be grateful that dullness promised
safety.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said shakily.
“You kissed me first.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
She wasn’t surprised when he laughed. Even she thought that she
sounded absurd.
“You seem new to the activity. I merely offered an alternative
technique.”
She thought she’d blushed before, but this critique set her cheeks
on fire. “I don’t go around kissing random men, my lord. I refuse to apologize
for my inexperience.”
“I’m glad.” He caught her loosely by the waist. She was
overwhelmingly conscious of those large hands holding her.
“For my inexperience?”
“That you made an exception to your rule.”
“I suppose you’re used to women throwing themselves at you,” she
mumbled, knowing she made a fool of herself. A man like Leath probably couldn’t
step outside without tripping over eager young ladies wanting to kiss him.
Wanting more.
The idea of him doing more to her sent Nell’s heart hurtling into
her ribs.
He smiled. That gentle curve of his beautifully cut lips set her
pulses rocketing. “If only life was so exciting for a politically minded marquess.”
* * * * *
For a chance to win a copy of A SCOUNDREL BY MOONLIGHT, Anna asks: For
both Leath and Nell, this kiss is a guilty pleasure. What’s your guilty
pleasure?
