One Dangerous Desire
by Christy Carlyle
Series: Accidental Heirs, #3
Genre: Historical Romance
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Release Date: April 19, 2016
In a bet between two old flames . . .
Rex Leighton dominates the boardroom by day and prowls the ballroom at night. Searching for the perfect bride to usher him into the aristocracy, he abandoned the idea of love the last time he saw the delicious May Sedgwick. But when he’s roped into a bet, where the prize is the means to fund his greatest ambition and the stakes are a marriage he’s already planning for, Rex is willing to go all in. There’s just one problem—he’s competing against the only woman he’s ever loved.
Only love can take it all
May Sedgwick could be the belle of the season . . . if she cared. She is more interested in the art studio than the marriage market and her craving to pursue her passion far outweighs her wish for a titled husband. Winning this bet will finally allow May to follow her true artistic desires. Rex losing is just a side benefit, as are his breathtaking kisses that she just can’t resist.
When May is forced to choose between the dream she never knew she wanted and the man she’s never been able to forget, Rex must convince her desire is worth a bit of danger.
“Why have you come?”
“I didn’t intend to.”
And . . . she was a fool. The dancing energy in her chest diminished, and the little seedling of hope shriveled up and slid down, just like her shoulders. When her corset began to press in under her arms, she straightened up to correct her unladylike slump.
He slammed his teacup on the table between them, and it clattered noisily against its saucer. “What I meant to say is that I found myself at your front door, and I gave in to the desire to see you. No reason. Nothing rational about it.”
“Against your will, then? This rogue desire to see me finally beat out your better judgment?” Sarcasm had never been her strong suit. She hadn’t mastered the right tone.
“I fight it every day,” he said in such a raspy whisper that she leaned in to catch it. “The desire to see you.”
May gulped the sip of tea she’d intended to take. She spluttered as the liquid seared a trail to her belly, firing her body until it was as hot as her cheeks.
“I’ve been in London for many months, Mr. Leighton. Your desire can’t be so formidable.”
He shifted on the settee across from her so that his leg pressed against her skirts.
“I assure you, it is.”
She wanted a bit of cool water, a snowflake, perhaps an iceberg to ease the heat coursing through her. Drinking more tea wouldn’t help, but she did it anyway, in a desperate attempt to deflect the intensity of his gaze and the effect of his admission.
“I didn’t intend to.”
And . . . she was a fool. The dancing energy in her chest diminished, and the little seedling of hope shriveled up and slid down, just like her shoulders. When her corset began to press in under her arms, she straightened up to correct her unladylike slump.
He slammed his teacup on the table between them, and it clattered noisily against its saucer. “What I meant to say is that I found myself at your front door, and I gave in to the desire to see you. No reason. Nothing rational about it.”
“Against your will, then? This rogue desire to see me finally beat out your better judgment?” Sarcasm had never been her strong suit. She hadn’t mastered the right tone.
“I fight it every day,” he said in such a raspy whisper that she leaned in to catch it. “The desire to see you.”
May gulped the sip of tea she’d intended to take. She spluttered as the liquid seared a trail to her belly, firing her body until it was as hot as her cheeks.
“I’ve been in London for many months, Mr. Leighton. Your desire can’t be so formidable.”
He shifted on the settee across from her so that his leg pressed against her skirts.
“I assure you, it is.”
She wanted a bit of cool water, a snowflake, perhaps an iceberg to ease the heat coursing through her. Drinking more tea wouldn’t help, but she did it anyway, in a desperate attempt to deflect the intensity of his gaze and the effect of his admission.
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