Constance Kersaint invites you back into the scandalous world of the Darewoods, of danger and intrigue, as Roland Darewood does the unthinkable–he falls in love with a duke’s governess.
He is all she should avoid.
For years, Sabina Kembrooke had been careful. She hid herself from those who would harm her, or worse, but one act of compassion may ruin her forever. After years of hiding in a duke’s home, the man she rescued comes crashing into her life again. Roland is too dangerous a temptation but, despite her powerful response, she must not give in.
She’s not who she seems to be.
Roland has returned from years at sea to take his place as viscount and head of his dysfunctional household. Sabina’s respectable demeanor hides a secret that would utterly destroy her, but he must uncover her secrets if he is to keep her safe. The danger Sabina tried to hide from may have found her again. Can she trust him? Can he save her?
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance
EXCERPT
Midnight Visitations
“When did you start drinking?” Sabina asked, pulling off her gloves.
“When I turned ten and six,” Roland said, his eyes never leaving her.
“Tonight. When did you start drinking tonight?” Sabina clarified, coming toward him. He should stop her. He loved the sway of her hips, the schoolmarm way she corrected him. In the firelight, she glowed like a goddess, and he did not look away.
“Two hours ago. Mayhap yesterday? Did you say tonight?”
“Aria and Sage came for tea this afternoon. She mentioned that you had been in a mood since you saw Oliver yesterday afternoon. I believe that’s when you started drinking. I saw Tristan, by the way. He was asleep on the kitchen table,” Sabina said.
“We need more brandy in the house. And wine,” he noted. With the utmost courtesy, he poured her the last of the wine on the table by the chaise. Everything was within arms’ reach so he need not even rise. She preferred dry red, he remembered.
“Then you should tell your housekeeper.” Sabina sat on the low table in front of him, accepting the proffered glass. He had made no effort to sit upright, and had remained prone on the chaise like the drunken lord he was.
“Sage will know. Don’t have to tell that gel a thing. She will just know, like some damned clairvoyant.” Roland kept his eyes on Sabina, tracking her every movement. “How are you here?”
“I took a cab,” Sabina said. She sipped the wine politely, seated as she was on a table cluttered with empty bottles and half-smoked cheroots.
“Sabina,” he admonished.
“Roland,” she replied back with utmost decorum, as if she were not alone with a bachelor in the dead of night, in his home. “As I said, your sister informed me of your indisposition and gave me the key to the side door.”
“Indiscriminate of her,” Roland said, watching her set her empty wineglass down. “I can’t imagine her purpose.” She rose gracefully and removed her fichu, folding it neatly over the back of the chaise. He blinked. Sabina then removed her overskirt and jacket.
“I imagine she thought I could offer some comfort in your obvious state of distress,” Sabina said, efficiently continuing her undressing efforts. She did not seem to be playing the coquette but he knew she was showing him every move.
“What are we doing, Sabina fair?” Roland asked, as he tracked the removal of her petticoat and stays with more focus than he thought he possessed at this point in his drunkenness.
“I want you to focus on me and talk to me. This seemed to the most expedient way to gain your attention,” Sabina said, removing her boots.
“I will speak to you whenever you wish. You needn’t undress for it. I love talking to you,” he said, and bit his tongue. Some things should not be said aloud. Then she smiled at him, clothed only in her chemise and stockings. Propriety could go on a long holiday.
“Perhaps I want to undress for your attention,” Sabina said. “Perhaps I’ve missed you.”
She came to him, pulling the pins from her hair, and Roland felt the knot in his chest ease in a way that no amount of spirits could do for him.
Her hair curling freely about her shoulders, Sabina pulled the ruin of his cravat from his neck as she kissed him with more tenderness than he deserved.
“You must leave, Sabina,” Roland struggled to say. He could do this for her. “I am not in a proper state. You should leave.”
“Or you’ll do what. Hurt me?”
“And more. I feel mean tonight.”
“Oh, I am so scared,” Sabina teased, then gasped when he shot to his feet. He grasped her shoulders.
“Last chance, Sabina,” Roland said through gritted teeth. There was a pause, an eternity in which Roland thought he might die if she left, and then she went up on tiptoes to kiss him.
He smelled like unwashed man and spilled gin. She smelled like cleanliness and the cold London night she had traveled through to see him. She was sweet and kind and she cared enough to see him.
Roland wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss so she would know he had missed her too. Then he gathered up her chemise and pulled it over her head.
GIVEAWAY!
