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    His For The Taking
    His For The Taking
    His For The Taking
    Ebook65 pages50 minutes

    His For The Taking

    By Harris Channing

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    About this ebook

    Lady Julianna loves Lord Jonathan Denbigh. But is he deserving?

    Julianna's grandmother, Lady Chesterfield certainly doesn't think so but wants her granddaughter happy.

    When Jonathan refuses to marry Julianna, Lady Chesterfield puts a ploy into motion that will see her granddaughter engaged by the end of the season. To one man or another...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarris Channing
    Release dateAug 11, 2012
    ISBN9781476252537
    His For The Taking
    Author

    Harris Channing

    An Army brat, Harris Channing traveled around the Southern US and Europe as a child before settling in Tennessee as an adult. Married with two children, she enjoys her family, reading, writing, and gardening.

    Read more from Harris Channing

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      Book preview

      His For The Taking - Harris Channing

      His For The Taking

      By Harris Channing

      Copyright 2012 Harris Channing

      Smashwords Edition

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      For more titles by Harris Channing, please visit

      http://www.harrischanning.com/

      His For The Taking

      A novella by

      Harris Channing

      Chapter One

      Surrey, England

      1816

      Julianna, how does it feel to be the spinster sister of England's most beautiful bride? Jonathan asked, leaning back against the creamy yellow cushion of the settee.

      I rather think I’m the lucky one, Julianna replied, hoping she kept the bitterness from her tone. But it was hard, for Jonathan had a way of bringing a pot of water to a boil with a single word.

      How so? he queried, his brow lifted in question.

      My, he was a handsome devil. She longed to slap the smirk from his perfectly glorious lips. How she hated and loved him. The bane of her existence and the joy of her life.

      She looked at her younger sister, her pale cheeks aglow with happiness as she and her new husband spoke in hushed tones in the corner of the parlor. Abby and Michael would soon be leaving to visit Italy. A trip she had always longed to make and never had.

      Well? I'm waiting, Jonathan said, giving the back of her arm a pinch.

      Stop that, she scolded, smacking at his hands to cease his painful pressure. If you must know, I wouldn't wish to marry into your family, Jonathan. She lied. Being bound to you by friendship is enough, thank you.

      You wound me, dear Julianna. Do you hold my brother in such low esteem that you would wish he didn't love your sister?

      She rolled her eyes. Please, I wish Abby and Michael nothing but happiness.

      Still my sweet, your words crush my tender heart. I thought you loved me. He pouted, his words in jest. A joke that left her aching.

      If he only knew the truth, for love and hate battled for dominance in the darkest part of her heart, at least where Jonathan Denbigh was concerned. How could he not realize just how much he meant to her? Just how much he had meant to her since she met him at the age of thirteen. That she dreamt of him at night and now, sitting next to him, the musky scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body…well, damn it all, it was too much.

      Standing, she smoothed the skirt of her azure gown and lifted her chin. You don't need me to love you. I think you love yourself well enough.

      Touché, he said leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. But you have to admit, I'm a little lovable.

      She smiled down at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Yes, I love you like a chicken loves a fox.

      He bared his teeth and growled. Be careful little chicken, or I'm apt to gobble you up.

      Oh really Lord Denbigh, I’m not one of your silly little half wits. Does that charm truly work on anyone? But she had to admit, the idea of his nibbling on her had chills racing across her flesh.

      Too well sometimes, he admitted leaning back once again with an elegant ease. Lifting a long finger he motioned toward Constance Whitcomb.

      Dressed in a fluid gown of saffron, Lady Constance demanded more attention than the bride herself. Long, flowing locks of gold cascaded over her creamy white shoulders. She was beautiful and she now garnered Jonathan’s full attention. Oh, to have him look at her that way. As if she was the only woman in the room.

      In fact, Miss Whitcomb has grown quite fond of the idea of matrimony, Jonathan explained, his gaze pinned to the golden beauty.

      Julianna stared at the woman, just the sound of her name rankled her and sent currents of jealousy racing through her veins. She was ever so graceful and the way men gathered around the woman had her feeling like a scrubbed sow in a silken feed sack.

      Oh Lord Nesbitt, you’re so very delightful, Constance cooed, her gloved fingers coming to rest intimately on the young man’s wrist.

      Bennett Nesbitt smiled, his handsome face alight with joy. Did her mere touch turn men of normal temperament into grinning fools? She pulled her attention away from the pair and glanced back at Jonathan and

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