Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Games
Games
Games
Ebook391 pages5 hours

Games

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Life is but a game to be played and all the characters are playing theirs in different ways. The principal game that Giselle Franklin and Simon Harrington engage in is the one of seduction and love. Neither has any idea how quickly flirtatious fun evolves into something more serious...and more deadly.

Simon Harrington, a US marshall on special assignment for President Grant, loves the excitement and the danger his job provides and has no intentions of being tied down with love and a family. He’s come to Louisville to investigate a series of incidents involving the new thoroughbred racetrack being built. It’s up to him to ensure that the first running of the Kentucky Derby will take place without a hitch.

Giselle Franklin, a coquettish, French American whose self-appointed task is to reel in every available man in the area, also craves excitement and adventure. She’s determined to help Simon, but doing so only lands her into bigger trouble.

Twists and turns abound in this fun, fast-paced, suspense-filled story where Giselle and Simon work to stay a step ahead of another, more devious game player intent on ending their journey to finding love and happiness.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherSandy Loyd
Release dateJul 25, 2013
ISBN9780989199544
Games

Read more from Sandy Loyd

Related to Games

Titles in the series (11)

View More

Related ebooks

Suspense Romance For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Games

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Games - Sandy Loyd

    Prologue – June 1874

    Lightning flashed. A frantic whinny pierced the air, followed by an ear-shattering explosion of thunder. The burst of brightness lit the wet night, briefly illuminating the scene in front of him. The terrified, pained expression reflected in the horse’s eyes would probably be carved into Harold Bentley’s brain forever.

    He leaned over the magnificent thoroughbred, further inspecting the prone animal in the rain-swept darkness. Water poured from the heavens, hitting him with the force of liquid bullets and impeding his process. After minutes of groping, his weary shoulders slumped as fatigue and sadness moved over his face.

    He glanced at the rider who had dismounted.

    Is he all right? Bradford Tyler asked, halting in front of the horse.

    No. Harold sighed heavily. Broken leg.

    How?

    In this storm and with him running crazy, it was inevitable to catch a hoof and stumble.

    That’s my point. He shouldn’t have been out. How did he get loose?

    Don’t know. He stood and strode to his horse to pull a rifle from the side pouch of his saddlebags. Diablo needs to be put out of his misery."

    Seconds later, a loud shot rang out, blending with the crack of thunder.

    Get some men out here to bury him. He’s too fine an animal to let the buzzards pick his bones, Bentley said before replacing the rifle. He mounted his horse, muttering the same obvious question. How was it possible for a prized stallion to break out of his stall?

    As Bentley and Tyler rode away, neither man saw the outline of someone lurking nearby. He watched the scene for long minutes before he mounted a horse and headed in the opposite direction.

    Chapter 1

    One Month Later

    Libby, you must pinch me so that I know I am not dreaming, Giselle Franklin said, her French-accented voice full of pure enjoyment as the carriage arrived at the DuPont mansion.

    Not much happened in Shelbyville. The small town her family now called home was nothing like the cultural City of Light where she’d grown up. Ever since she’d met Libby Thorpe, her life had drastically changed.

    I love working on the stud farm. I love visiting Louisville so often, and most importantly, I love attending fancy events. At the very least, her new job afforded a refuge from the boredom of living in the middle of nowhere.

    I’m only too happy to have your company, Libby replied, squeezing her hand and offering a friendly smile. Tonight is special. Colin and his committee have been busy.

    Giselle glanced at Colin Thorpe, Libby’s handsome husband, and nodded. This ball was in celebration of the planned thoroughbred racetrack, along with the newly formed Louisville Jockey Club and Driving Park Association. For weeks the entire city had rejoiced in the news. She couldn’t wait until May, when the first derby would take place.

    Considering your grandfather is an English count, I’m sure you’re more comfortable in the company of Colin’s wealthy friends than I am, Libby admitted as the carriage came to a complete stop.

    Colin jumped out to help his wife alight and then offered Giselle a hand.

    I will only be a moment, he said before turning to say something to his driver.

    Libby bent, shaking the wrinkles out of her gown. Your sister’s creation has turned me into a princess. The rich color brings out my eyes. She fingered the dark blue silk folds.

    You look exquisite, Libby. Her friend’s light-colored eyes normally hid in the background of her face. But not tonight. Tonight, Libby’s expression sparkled and her eyes came alive, aided with the deep hue of the midnight color.

    Look how wonderfully this dress hangs. This material is stunning. Marguerite is very talented.

    Non, Giselle thought. Though her sister was a gifted seamstress and the design did bring out Libby’s best features, it was most likely Colin and his effect on her that had her glowing.

    "Oui, she is skilled, but you make her creation shine," Giselle answered honestly. Like her own gown, Libby’s had simple lines accentuating her small figure every bit as beautifully as Giselle’s dress emphasized her assets.

    You are also one to make a creation shine and will most likely turn a few heads tonight.

    I only want to have a good time. Giselle beamed. I love to dance.

    Colin finished with his instructions, drawing both women’s attention as he walked toward them. You are very lovely, my dear. He halted in front of Libby. Love and admiration shone in his intense gaze as he kissed her cheek.

    How would it be to have the right someone stare at her with the same intensity?

    You look lovely too, Giselle, he said, finally noticing her consideration.

    Despite his obvious interest in Libby, Giselle couldn’t hold back the laughter bursting forth and she felt heat rush up her face. She never tired of hearing sweet words of praise from handsome escorts. Oh, how she missed the attention of such good-looking, dashing men.

    Shall we? Colin offered both an arm on either side. I will be the envy of all who know me, escorting two exquisite ladies.

    Giselle’s spirits rose even higher when they strolled into the mansion. As they moved through the receiving line, she was reminded of those glorious nights of dancing in Paris after her debut. Such a pity her American father had decided to return to his hometown after retiring.

    Her smile spread as Giselle walked through the main salon, the ballroom visible up ahead. Taking it all in, she sighed. Her gaze centered on the gowns…the handsome men…and oh, the dancing.

    People dressed in their finest presented a colorful scene, inside and out. Waltzing couples spilled out onto the terrace because of an overcrowded ballroom. Hundreds of candles flickered everywhere, shedding soft light into the now darkening night.

    Anticipation filled Giselle. She loved to flirt, was a born coquette as her mother was always quick to point out, and she hoped that before the evening was over she might garner some eligible man’s attention.

    Colin intercepted a waiter with a tray of champagne, handed a glass to Libby, one to Giselle, and grabbed another for himself.

    Giselle laughed gaily, tapped her foot to the music, and sipped champagne as the dancers circled the ballroom.

    It wasn’t too long before a gentleman approached her, asking for the next dance. As he spun her around the room in a waltz, she couldn’t subdue her smile of pleasure.

    When the music died, her partner reluctantly led her back to Libby and Colin. Within moments, men surrounded her. Except Giselle’s attention wasn’t on the gentlemen vying for a chance at a spin on the dance floor. It was focused on a lone wallflower in the corner.

    Suspecting the girl’s forced smile, she frowned. As much as Giselle loved to dance, she hated seeing anyone ignored, especially someone as pretty and sweet as the wallflower. Most likely shyness kept her in the shadows, and that was just wrong.

    Giselle closed her fan and used it to tap the shoulder of one particularly charming fellow she’d met the week before. I have a favor to ask before I consent to a dance.

    Anything, Bradford Tyler said, his grin tugging at the edges of his mouth.

    She offered her brightest smile. Will you approach my friend and ask her for a dance? Experience had taught her that it usually took only one dance before other surrounding males noticed and did the same.

    He glanced in the direction of her nod and lifted his eyebrows. Of course. He bowed and trailed off to do her bidding.

    A sense of accomplishment surged through her when the waltz ended and two other men fell in line to dance with the girl.

    Seconds later, Bradford stood in front of her. Now, may I have the pleasure of a dance?

    Yes, of course, and thank you. Giselle bestowed another warm smile and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. Now she could enjoy herself without feeling guilty.

    ~~

    Standing off to the side, near French doors that opened onto another terrace, Simon Harrington observed the entire scene working to conceal his cynical expression. Thoughts of dancing with the bold flirt filled his mind. He couldn’t quite dislodge them, despite having already gotten tangled in her web once before. His eyes focused on his drink while he swirled the amber liquid, momentarily lost in thought.

    Then his attention refocused on the object of his desire.

    He couldn’t stop himself from studying the lady. Stray curls had sprung loose from her fashionable coiffure. The dark chestnut tendrils, along with a pair of dangling earrings, framed her face, accentuating doe-like big brown eyes on a very feminine heart-shaped face. She was wearing an elegantly draped gown with simple lines that flattered her lush figure. Yet it was the gown’s spun-gold color that most impacted his senses, highlighting her creamy complexion and showing off her flawless skin to perfection.

    Simon snorted in self-disgust at the fact that he was seriously considering approaching the outrageous bit of fluff. He brought the glass to his lips and drank, relishing the burning sensation traveling down his throat.

    His job, a US marshal on special assignment for President Grant, kept him on the move. He’d only be staying in Louisville another day, two at most, so there was no real chance of becoming enmeshed with her. The case he was currently working on brought him here, but it was leading farther up the Ohio River to bigger cities along its path. Once he met with his informants, he’d be gone—away from the distraction of the dark-eyed beauty.

    His gaze remained fastened on the lady while his mind churned.

    He took another mouthful of bourbon and swallowed it along with regret. Duty called.

    ~~

    Flashing a carefree smile at her current partner, Giselle felt as if she were gliding on air. When the music ended, he walked her toward the group of men who were now waiting patiently for their turn. A rush of pleasure shot through her system at seeing the admiration on all of their faces. At that moment she held the world in her hands.

    She glanced toward the wallflower and noted a similar group of awaiting suitors. The girl’s smile no longer appeared forced, her expression clearly mirroring Giselle’s sentiments.

    A figure in her peripheral vision drew her focus. She turned in time to see a man who seemed familiar open a door and give a brief look around before slipping out of sight. The door quickly closed behind him. She stared at the now empty spot until it hit her.

    Simon Harrington.

    What could he be doing in Louisville? The last time she’d seen him had been at her family’s farewell ball in Paris, two years earlier. He’d worked with her father on a case in France just before her papa’s retirement.

    Intrigued, Giselle inclined her head imploringly at the gentleman who’d just asked her to dance. "Excusez-moi. She realized she’d spoken in French and rephrased the question. Could you excuse me? She softened her smile. I must visit the retiring room."

    Lifting her skirt, she hurried toward the door through which Simon had disappeared.

    The door closed, encasing Giselle in silence. A single gaslight burned at the left side of the fireplace. Other than the flickering shadows on the walls, the room was empty.

    Heart pumping wildly, she caught voices that floated into the room from behind a billowy curtain. Silently she tiptoed closer to the paned-glass double doors leading to a veranda and listened, only to realize that whoever had been speaking had stopped.

    A hand clasped over her face so fast she had no time to scream.

    Are you spying on me? The raspy male whisper sent chills up her spine.

    She shook her head as much as she could, considering he’d wrapped his other arm around her waist.

    Then why did you come in here?

    Unable to answer because his hand still covered her mouth, she shrugged. What seemed like a good idea at the time suddenly became a nightmare.

    A thump sounded and the man grunted into her ear. His hand immediately went slack and his grip on her shoulders lessened as he slumped forward. She stepped away and spun around in time to see him slither to the floor. Then she saw a second man hidden in the shadows.

    She drew in a deep breath to scream just as another hand clamped over her mouth.

    Chapter 2

    I’m going to release your mouth, but if you make a noise, I won’t hesitate to gag you, understand?

    Giselle nodded, but the instant he removed his hand she spun around, ready to scream. Until recognition registered. "What is the meaning of this, monsieur?"

    Simon Harrington crossed his arms and glared at her. I could ask you the same.

    His frown, one that could fell a charging bull, might have frightened her if she hadn’t recognized it as one of her father’s tactics.

    You do realize, Mademoiselle Franklin, you barged in where you shouldn’t have. He rolled his eyes. Still impulsive as ever, which means you haven’t changed.

    She swallowed the curt reply on the tip of her tongue in an effort to hide her rising embarrassment. "Excusez-moi?"

    Oh, how it hurt to have him remember her as that foolish girl who trailed after him, hoping for a little excitement. She’d always wanted to follow in Papa’s footsteps, but Papa quashed that idea with one simple fact. Those with the power to decide on agents thought females too fragile for the work.

    The idea still vexed her today, considering she could probably outshoot and outwit most of the agents she’d met in Paris at various functions. Few of those US marshals under the direction of President Grant, doing his bidding on foreign soil, could boast of being fluent in English, French, and Spanish like she could. I was just looking for the retiring room.

    Simon’s eyes narrowed, his steely gaze full of doubt. Is that so?

    "Oui. She held her head high and met his intense scrutiny with a hard stare, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. Far be it from her to reveal he’d hit upon the exact reason she sought him out. Of course, Simon Harrington just had to be as handsome and charming as ever. The hint of danger that always surrounded him drew her now, exactly as it had two years ago. Why, she had no clue, but she’d die before revealing such a fact. Who is that man?" She pointed to the crumpled body on the floor.

    No need to concern yourself with him. His lips flattened into a determined line as he reached out and caught her gloved hand. Come on. I don’t want to be here when he wakes up. His arrogance shocked her into submission, and she allowed him to lead her through the door and onto the ballroom floor.

    What are you doing, she asked once the shock wore off as he wrapped his arms around her.

    I thought it was obvious.

    She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. Rather than make a scene, she hissed in a whisper, Monsieur Harrington, I cannot dance with you.

    Why not?

    The bit of challenge in his question, accompanied with that daring smile, taunted her senses. As much as she wanted to remain in his arms, she didn’t need a repeat of two years ago.

    It would be rude. The tilt of her head indicated a line of men who stared, their expressions full of confusion. Some of those gentlemen have waited several dances. She certainly would deal better with any one of them compared to the man who led her around the room like he’d danced his entire life. Simon Harrington had a way about him that caused her to lose her wits. If I were a man, I would call you out for taking such liberties.

    I have no intention of waiting behind your lackeys. His confident attitude only added to his appeal. Besides, if you were a man you’d be dead. That fellow who caught you spying is a mite touchy about being seen, so you should be thanking me for saving you.

    She eyed him for a quick moment. Her memory hadn’t done him justice. He cut a dashing figure in his formal attire. Tall and broad shouldered with chiseled features and dark brown hair, he stood out in a room among other men.

    Despite his claim that he saved her, Giselle’s good sense returned instantly. She took a step back in another attempt to leave.

    Her spine stiffened when his vice-like grip kept her in place. She could only sputter, "You, monsieur, are rude and insufferable."

    He tipped his head. Guilty as charged.

    Unable to tamp down her irritation, she snapped, I do not want to dance with you, so please unhand me.

    Stay still, you’ll cause a scene. He continued waltzing as if she hadn’t spoken. You wouldn’t want to scare away all the other fishes, now would you? He paused until she glanced at him. I’m in awe of your talents.

    His amusement only annoyed her further and she flashed daggers of ice with her stare, in hopes of chilling him.

    Yet all he did was raise an eyebrow and say, How do you do it? How do you keep them all waiting to be ensnared? And then, when you throw one back after catching another, how do you keep him circling, waiting to be caught again? ’Tis truly a skill.

    As quickly as it erupted, her anger died, and laughter bubbled up to replace it. She knew what she was and had no qualms when someone pointed it out to her. That it was Simon doing the pointing shouldn’t interest her. But it did.

    "Oui, so I like parties and dancing, and of course I love the attention of so many men. Who would not? She paused and peeked up at him. I am sure you have just as many admirers."

    The man’s genuine smile transformed his face. He was still rugged and dangerous looking, but now there was a devilish quality about him that played havoc on Giselle’s tummy. His amused gaze seemed too knowing and sent a thrill down her spine that spread to all of her extremities.

    Mon Dieu! He was more than dangerous and she needed to be wary.

    No, Giselle. I’m never in one place long enough to gather admirers.

    Giselle couldn’t help but return his smile, unconcerned that he’d used her given name. She was enjoying the exchange, as well as the dance. Too much. That is because their fathers probably cautioned them about men such as you, just as my father warned me.

    Simon’s face took on a stunned expression. Really? His arrogance slipped a notch.

    Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she quickly added, He was just trying to sway me from acting foolish.

    There’s more to this story, he said, his smile returning. Isn’t there?

    It is not nice to point out one’s follies. Giselle gritted her teeth and admitted, Apparently special agents such as yourself do not make the best suitors. I was instructed to forget about you.

    And did you?

    The heat in his voice warmed her insides. So did the look in his eyes when his gaze landed on hers after taking a brief trip to her bodice.

    Of course. She quickly averted her eyes to glance at the dancers around them. He’d never know that she compared every man she’d met since to him. They all came up lacking. Everyone except Bradford Tyler, who’d caught her attention earlier. She smiled.

    Her stiff posture relaxed and she allowed Simon to spin her around the room. He danced divinely, never stepping on her toes as too many had already done.

    What brings you to Louisville, she asked, too curious to contain the bold question.

    My, aren’t we nosy? He seized her gaze once more.

    "Pardonnez-moi. That was rude of me. She cleared her throat as heat rushed to her cheeks. Her father had always encouraged her to speak her mind, much to her mother’s dismay. Since coming to Kentucky, she’d had a hard time with the strictures of the local culture, so different from Paris. She cared little for public opinion. Most of the women who might chastise her were also intent on having her family money gracing their coffers, which is why they tolerated her boldness. They might not be so quick to do so if they knew Giselle wasn’t enamored with any of their sons and was in no hurry to marry. Funny, but she did care what Simon thought. Am I forgiven?"

    That depends. His warm, silky voice wafted past her ears.

    "On what, monsieur?" She kept her tone even, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the way her heart skipped beats.

    On whether you’ll let me escort you in to dinner.

    "Non, I shouldn’t, she said quickly, shaking her head. You ask too much."

    Simon’s lips turned into a devilish grin. Don’t you want my forgiveness?

    The seductive whisper traveled all the way to her insides, which along with the accompanying gleam in his eyes, spread heat throughout her being. Somehow that look made her feel as if he were a cougar on the hunt and she was his prey.

    I think I can live without it, she murmured breathlessly, working to still her racing heart.

    Why? What can it hurt?

    Not expecting the disappointment in his tone, she offered one of her best coquettish smiles and answered honestly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Because you are much too dangerous for someone as simple as me. Non, I think it would be very foolish indeed to have dinner with such a dangerous man."

    Simon’s bark of laughter rang in the air, causing other dancers to turn and stare. He ignored them. Oh, and you’re not dangerous? Surely you can give me some small reward for swimming these waters, trying very hard to avoid your hook.

    Come now, Giselle said in a voice full of merriment. Such a silly statement. As if someone like me could hook a fish such as you.

    You doubt I find you attractive?

    "Non. Let us just say you swim in deeper waters and I recognize the fact. After all, I am but a simple country girl, n’est-ce pas?"

    Country girl, maybe, but simple, no. Not bothering to bank the heated fire in his eyes, he lowered his gaze to her mouth as his lips curled into a devilish smile that only added to his daring appeal. I see nothing simple about you. And as far as swimming goes, my dear, you invented the game.

    Having no reply, Giselle remained silent.

    "How ’bout it, chérie? Seductive tones floated in her ear and sent another thrill through her. Goose bumps appeared. Sit with me during dinner. There is no risk to you and I guarantee you won’t regret it."

    She smiled. Well, Monsieur Harrington, when you invent such a creative offer, how can I refuse? Besides being a divine dancer, this man intrigued her. She would love nothing better than to spend a little more time in his company, despite her father’s warning.

    Simon, he said softly.

    "Qu’est-ce que c’est? What was that?"

    My name is Simon. I want to hear it spoken from your lips.

    Giselle sighed. The man was definitely trouble. She nodded. Simon it is.

    Just then, the music died. They broke apart.

    Thank you for the dance, Simon. Giselle turned and started in the direction of the waiting males, but his hand on her arm held her back.

    Dinner will be served momentarily. Why not walk in the garden with me beforehand?

    Torn, Giselle bit her lip, debating his request. "Non, she finally said. I do not think that is wise."

    Surely the master of the game isn’t afraid of me? Simon countered, giving her a challenging look. What can happen with all these people around? He let go of her and held out his arm. Come, it’s a little stuffy in here. Besides, you don’t want to go back to fishing just yet. After dinner will be soon enough.

    You are incorrigible. Giselle could only shake her head and stifle the urge to grin.

    Then she put her gloved hand on his sleeve and allowed Simon to lead her out of the French doors.

    ~~

    Simon led her to a fairly secluded area, glad to have Giselle to himself for a bit. They were hidden from view, but the band playing another waltz was still audible.

    While he had no desire to entangle himself in a tryst with her, there was no denying she attracted him. He’d leave Louisville tonight and maybe meet his goal of making a lasting impression. Yet after spending the past few minutes in her company, he had no doubt that the impression, complete with the gaslight shining over her face that highlighted her lovely features, would be forever etched in his memory. Giselle Franklin was a beautiful, desirable woman. Simon understood her game. Unfortunately, he was no more immune to her allure than any of the other men she’d been working to charm.

    I imagine you are still working for President Grant, Giselle said, drawing Simon’s attention.

    He chuckled and eyed her speculatively. As bold as the statement was, he expected nothing less from her. Is that so?

    I may be female, but I am not stupid. She shrugged. I know all about men such as you. My father was one. He was content in Paris to work behind the scenes, but I heard the stories about when he was younger. He was very good at what he did.

    Their gazes locked as he considered her words. Just what do you know about men such as me?

    Besides being dangerous, you crave excitement. That is why you do the things you do.

    Simon was taken aback by her insight. She seemed to be able to look into his core and see him so clearly.

    When she smiled up at him with an expression much too perceptive, his focus landed on her lips. He couldn’t look away. Those lips begged to be kissed and he wanted nothing more than to comply.

    Unable to control the impulse, he slowly pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. When their mouths finally connected, he savored the feel of such soft and yielding lips, holding him spellbound. Blood pounded through his body. He caught a whiff of her floral scent at the same time she gave a low moan, opening her mouth and placing her hands on his shoulders.

    Pressing his advantage after that small encouragement, he gently nudged her mouth wider. Of its own volition, his tongue invaded and she obeyed its urgent demands.

    Simon never imagined a kiss could spiral out of control so rapidly. He certainly never meant to become lost in her mouth, become lost in a sea of sensation.

    Yet when he felt Giselle’s tentative touch—her soft hands reaching up, wrapping around his nape, and bringing him closer—his passion ignited. All rational thought emptied from his mind, replaced with thoughts of having her naked and writhing beneath him. Simon desperately wanted more. His tongue laid siege, increasing its assault. His hands found her breasts.

    And still, it wasn’t enough.

    He stroked one breast through the silky material of her gown and she shuddered with obvious pleasure. When his hand brushed her dress off her shoulder, baring one perfectly round breast to the night air and he began stroking it, she stiffened and jerked her mouth away.

    "Monsieur, you forget yourself." Wide-eyed, she stared at him while placing a hand over her bare bosom.

    The horror in her voice and her actions registered, and fighting for control, Simon closed his eyes. It took supreme effort to rein in his warring emotions. He couldn’t believe how easily this flirting coquette had caused him to lose his sanity. It angered him now that desire for her still ran at a fevered pace throughout his body. The urge to grab her, subdue her, and have her pliant as she was but a few minutes ago was hard to tamp down and left him even angrier. How was it this bit of fluff could elicit such strong reactions from him?

    Once the battle was won, he gave a mental shake of his head to clear it and opened his eyes. Irritation replaced anger, but it was directed more toward himself than the enticing woman who stood before him with a wounded expression. Her look as she unsuccessfully attempted to straighten her gown annoyed him. Hell, it wasn’t as if she didn’t invite his kiss. He didn’t bother to keep his annoyance out of his voice when he spoke.

    If you don’t want my attention, then I suggest you cover yourself faster. He roughly pulled up her dress.

    Giselle’s eyes flashed fire. She slapped at his hand and lowered her gaze. I am sorry. The situation got ahead of me.

    His annoyance vanished after watching Giselle assume full responsibility for her actions. Damn, if his admiration of her spirit didn’t climb a notch after witnessing the apology. Suddenly he felt lower than the pebbles beneath her feet.

    No, Giselle. Simon sighed, letting out a slow breath. ’Tis I who should apologize.

    It was just as much his fault the situation got ahead of her, more so in fact. Even though she was an outrageous flirt, she was obviously an innocent one. That piece of information changed the rules of this game. Deflowering young virgins and then leaving them the next day wasn’t his style. He wasn’t about to travel that route, no matter how enticing the girl was.

    You have no reason to apologize. I was acting like a cad. I’m sorry. Regret spilled out in his words. Simon kissed the top of her head and grabbed her gloved hand, pulling her slowly along. We should go inside. It looks as if dinner is about to be served.

    ~~

    Giselle’s heartbeat slowed to normal and she wondered at how easily he had swayed her into that heated kiss.

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1