The Brides of Bath, Book 3(Previously published in mass market paperback and as an eBook under the title A Fallen Woman)Heat Index: Hot* * *“This emotional story of a woman’s journey from despair to triumph has what we all want from a love story. – In Print
A story of healing, forgiveness and change that will make readers cheer. – Romantic Times
I would recommend it to anyone.” – Escape to Romance
***Since his commanding officer in the Peninsula took a bullet meant for him, James Moore, now the Earl of Rutledge, feels responsible for the dead man’s young son and the boy’s exquisite mother, Carlotta Ennis – so responsible that he offers to marry the lavender-eyed beauty. Though their marriage was not to be a love match, Carlotta’s torturing presence has James yearning to make her his true wife.
Though she did not love his lordship, her desperate situation forced her to accept his proposal. Little did she know she would come to crave being with him, would hunger for his every touch. If only she could be worthy of the fine man she’s married, if only she can keep him from learning her dark secret . . .***EXCERPT:
While waiting for James’s tub to fill, Carlotta knelt at his feet and assisted him in removing his muddied boots.
“Never mind me,” he said. “I daresay Mannington can manage. You’ll need to remove the soot and mud from your own self.”
She met his gaze and spoke throatily. “I wish to send Mannington away.”
Now he understood. As exhausted as he was, he understood and his body feebly responded to the velvet tone of her seductive voice.
Mannington stepped from the dressing room with clean clothing for his master.
“I shan’t need you any more tonight, Mannington,” James said, his eyes never leaving Carlotta’s.
“Very good, sir,” the valet answered flatly as he set the clothing on James’s bed then turned on his heel and departed.
With the firelight as a backdrop, James watched the footmen pour the last kettles of water into the tub, then leave the bed chamber.
Watching her husband with smoldering eyes, Carlotta reached for his buttons. James drew in his breath. She began to unfasten them, one by one. When she was finished, she lay her hand over the hair that matted on his chest. “So white there compared to here,” she whispered as her hand reached to stroke his blackened face.
His breathing grew more harsh, his mind and heart shaken to their depths by her gentleness–and his ever-swelling love for her.
Slowly, she removed the shirt from him. “Shall we stand?” she whispered.
James answered her without words, pulling her up with him. Her hands slipped to the bare skin beneath his breeches, and she gave them a tug. “I shall require your assistance in removing these, my darling.”
My darling? Good God in heaven! He was beginning to believe his wife had, indeed, fallen in love with him.