Too Wicked to Wed by Cara Elliott

Author:Cara Elliott [Elliott, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, General, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780446584579
Google: lfzQ_3pOlXwC
Amazon: 0446584576
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2011-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

No choice.

That was, unfortunately, the depressing truth about quite a few aspects of her life, thought Alexa.

Repressing a grimace, she fingered the lone garment in the armoire. In the haste to flee London she had come away with only the gown on her back—a shapeless indigo sack, chosen to hide any distinguishing feature during her midnight foray.

At least it was freshly laundered. What did it matter if it was hideously unfashionable? There was an old adage that one couldn’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

And seeing as she was naught but a plain country miss with a rather loud oink…

Still, as Alexa lifted it from the peg, she could not help but wish the neckline were a little lower, the bodice a little snugger.

She was just tying off the last tapes when a tiny click from across the room caused her look up. In the dusky light, the cheval glass reflected only a blur of shadows. Then, as a figure moved out from the paneled doorway, the earl’s features became recognizable.

Lud, she had all but forgotten that her quarters were designed for the mistress of the house—and that they connected to the master’s bedchamber.

“You ought not be here, sir,” she said sharply. “It is most improper…to leave your friends alone.”

His lips curved upward as he approached, a wickedly sensuous smile that stirred a most improper heat between her thighs.

“Ah, but we don’t seem to do anything by the rules.” Before she could make a move, he reached up and brushed an errant curl from the nape of her neck. “Do we, Alexa?”

His touch sent shivers of fire racing down her spine. There ought to be very strict rules about how a young lady reacted to a rake’s touch.

Oh, but there are, she reminded herself. Lots of them. However, as all rational thought seemed to have gone up in a swirl of smoke, she couldn’t seem to recall what they were.

“You will soon be rid of all these unruly distractions, sir,” whispered Alexa. “And your life will fall back in proper order.”

Not that her own existence would ever be quite the same again, she thought. He would quickly forget her and this unwanted interlude. While his lean, chiseled face and these unreasonable, unquenchable flares of longing that it ignited would remain indelibly imprinted on her memory.

On her body.

“Perhaps very soon,” she added. Was that why he was here? To tell her that she would be leaving as soon as she finished donning the one gown she could call her own. “Has Mrs. Chatsworth’s husband brought the news you have been waiting for?”

Connor shrugged but didn’t answer. His fingertips, which were still resting lightly on her skin, shifted to the open armoire door and began to trace over the garland of roses carved into the dark wood. “This was my mother’s room,” he murmured after a long moment, almost too softly for her to hear.

Feeling even more of an interloper in his world, she edged back abruptly. “You should have told me sooner, sir.

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