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Sarah looked frantically about for a hiding place, but unlike her bedchamber, there was no dressing screen here in Lord Langston’s chamber. With no choices and even less time, she dashed toward the heavy velvet drapes covering the windows. She’d no sooner secreted herself than she heard the door open. Then close.
…he leaned down and grasped his boot. After pulling it off, he removed the other. Then he stood, and to her fascination, er, alarm, he began undressing. Oh, my... Her fingers curled around the edge of the curtain and her stupefied gaze ran greedily over his broad shoulders. …And before she could so much as draw a breath into her stalled lungs, he swiftly removed his breeches. If she’d had the wherewithal to do so, Sarah would have given thanks that her eyeballs were permanently attached to her head, otherwise they surely would have leapt from their sockets and bounced across the floor.
The ladies in London are abuzz over Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, especially Miss Sarah Moorehouse. Her imagination is fired up, so when she spies Matthew Devenport, Marquess Langston, mysteriously sneaking home in the wee hours clutching a shovel, she simply must investigate. Impelled by curiosity, the adventurous lass steals into his bedchamber only to be caught red-handed by the impossibly handsome and totally naked nobleman.
The Marquess Langston has more important things to worry about than a group of literature-loving ladies. But Matthew's grand plan to rescue the family from ruin could be lost when he discovers Sarah hiding behind his bedroom curtain. What is this meddlesome woman up to? And why are his desires inflamed by a chit who is too inquisitive for her own good? Well, two can play at this game and when Matthew captures the beguiling Sarah in all her naked glory, the night of mischief has only just begun. |
| Book Format: Paperback |
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