SCHEMES
GONE AMISS
Conundrums
of the Misses Culpepper, Book 2
by Collette Cameron
Intrepid
and outspoken, Blythe Culpepper is dragged against her will to London for a
Season. To her dismay, her guardian enlists the devilishly attractive Lord
Leventhorpe, the one man she detests, to assist with her Come Out. Since their
first encounter, hostile looks and cutting retorts have abounded whenever they
meet, yet she cannot deny the way her body reacts when he’s near. So perhaps
it’s no surprise that upon overhearing another woman scheming to entrap Tristan
into marriage, Blythe risks all to warn him.
Haunted by childhood trauma, Tristan, the austere and controlled Marquis of Leventhorpe, usually avoids social gatherings. So why, against his better judgement, does he agree to aid his closet friend in presenting the Culpeppers to the ton? Might it be because one Culpepper stirs more than his interest? Blythe taxes him to his limits with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Yet, he cannot deny the beauty fascinates him. However, when an old enemy comes calling, using Blythe to settle old scores, Tristan must decide if protecting his honor is more important than winning the heart of the woman he has come to love.
Haunted by childhood trauma, Tristan, the austere and controlled Marquis of Leventhorpe, usually avoids social gatherings. So why, against his better judgement, does he agree to aid his closet friend in presenting the Culpeppers to the ton? Might it be because one Culpepper stirs more than his interest? Blythe taxes him to his limits with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Yet, he cannot deny the beauty fascinates him. However, when an old enemy comes calling, using Blythe to settle old scores, Tristan must decide if protecting his honor is more important than winning the heart of the woman he has come to love.
Publisher:
Blue Rose Romance in partnership with Windtree Press
Excerpt:
His gaze
riveted upon her mouth, tension tightened his lips.
He had the
most beautifully sculpted mouth she’d ever noticed, and that included the Greek
gods from last night’s ball. Were Lord Leventhorpe’s as warm and firm and tasty
as they appeared?
What the
blazes did Mr. Burlington’s lips look like? Did he have lips? He must, of
course.
A wheel
sank into a hole with bone-jarring force, abruptly interrupting Blythe’s mental
rambling and pitching her and Lord Leventhorpe headfirst. His hat flew from his
head as he tumbled from his seat onto his knees and reflexively wrapped his
arms around her to keep her from plunging to the floor.
With a yelp
of outraged surprise, Freddy bumped into Blythe’s back, somehow managing to
scramble onto the seat.
Their faces
mere inches apart, Blythe couldn’t haul her gaze from the glinting specks in
Lord Leventhorpe’s eyes. His focus sank to her lips, and his pupils shrank to
pin pricks.
Would he
kiss her?
Did she want
him to?
Illogically,
yes.
Breath
suspended, she remained perfectly motionless. Waiting.
Lowering
his head, he tightened his embrace an instant before his lips whispered across
hers.
They taste
even better than they look.
A brilliant
light burst behind her eyes, and every bone in her body turned molten. She
clutched his lapels certain if she let go, she’d slither to the floor.
He ran his
tongue along the seam of her lips, and sighing, she readily capitulated and
parted her mouth, eager to taste more of him.
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