When Gabriel Drake leaves his piracy behind, he finds a courtesan's daughter and a gaggle of orphans have taken over the castle . . . and soon capture his heart as well.
Jacquelyn will dare anything to protect those she loves. Even a prodigal pirate. But she forgot one thing . . .
What a pirate wants, a pirate takes.
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Emily Bryan, Romance Author
"Steamy . . . arrg!"~The Boston Globe
"Writing as Bryan, Diana Groe gives readers a sexy, fast-paced romp that will appeal to fans of Cheryl Holt, Lisa Kleypas and Celeste Bradley." ~ RT BOOKreviews
"Bryan has a great handle on the material and her characters, creating a charming, colorful story with an intricate, fast-paced story line." ~ Publishers Weekly
"Wickedly witty writing and wonderfully entertaining characters are the key ingredients in Bryan's sinfully sexy historical romance." ~ Booklist
“Then I’ll be the first. Lyn.” His tone caressed the name and a strange warmth stirred in her chest. “I want to be the first for you. In everything.”
He moved so quickly, her eye couldn’t follow the blur, but suddenly her small-sword was flying across the room. It clattered to the floor and rolled to rest at the feet of one of the suits of armor.
She stood before him defenseless, his foil poised for the coupe. Her chin jutted up a notch.
“A gentleman would allow me to retrieve my sword so we could continue.”
“No doubt a gentleman would. But such a chivalrous thought would never enter the mind of a pirate,” he assured her. He closed the distance between them and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his hard chest. “I win.”
“There’s been no touché,” she protested. “Your foil has not touched my torso.”
He pulled open her protective padded jacket, exposing her décolletage. Her nipples hardened beneath the lace of her bodice. Jacquelyn couldn’t bring herself to move as he lowered his mouth. He pressed his lips to the tender skin over the slender bone that ran from the hollow of her throat to her shoulder. She trembled like a beech in a breeze.
“I didn’t say it had to be a foil touch.” He let his rapier drop and splayed a possessive hand over her right breast. “Touché, Lyn.”