Loving Lady Lazuli
by Shehanne Moore
Only one man in England can identify her. Unfortunately he’s living next door.
Ten years ago sixteen year old Sapphire, the greatest jewel thief England has ever known, ruined Lord Devorlane Hawley’s life. Now she’s dead and buried, all the respectable widow, Cassidy Armstrong, wants is the chance to prove who she really is.
But not only does her new neighbor believe he knows that exactly, he’s hell-bent on revenge. All he needs is the actual proof. So when he asks her to choose between being his mistress, or dangling on the end of a rope, only Sapphire can decide…
What’s left for a woman with nowhere left to go, but to stay exactly where she is?
And hope, that when it comes to neighbors, Devorlane Hawley won’t prove to be the one from hell.
“Don’t stop now, Mrs. Armstrong, you’re just getting to be interesting.”
Interesting? The damn cheek of it. She was not getting to be anything. She was interesting. When he was not meant to know how interesting though, she would—she must—refrain from doing anything more than swallowing the lump that rose in her throat. A night bird chirruped and it was better to set her awareness on that, than the soft brush of breath against her forehead, the rumbled murmur of his voice.
Besides she had a fluttering robe to hold close. A robe she was completely naked beneath.
She edged a breath. “You said a kiss.”
Well, he had hadn’t he? So now he could not think it poor exchange for letting her off the hook. Particularly when her heart hammered in advance of offering him more and she’d a horrible feeling he was going to take it too. His stare was almost predatory and very, very inviting. While the feel of him, the closeness, these were things she had never experienced. Neither was what rose, what pulsated in her very center.
He gave a soft laugh, that actually wasn’t a laugh at all, more a noise that made her heart hammer harder, so she thought he must hear it. “And now you somehow think I want more?”
She edged her eyelashes lower. It was better to do that and keep her restraint about this, about everything, than respond by looking at him. “Well, I hope you don’t think I do.”
“That’s not how it looked to me.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Shehanne Moore writes gritty, witty, historical romance, set wherever takes her fancy. What hasn’t she worked at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author? Shehanne still lives in Scotland, with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds collide, she plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking.
Her second book featuring a hottie scottie, His Judas Bride was recently released.
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