Kindle Edition
Siren Bookstrand Publishing
Category:
Romance
Publisher: Siren Bookstrand Publishing Inc.
Pages: 193
Copyright: Nov 12, 2014
ISBN-13: 9781632585608
Price: $4.50 (eBook)
M/F Erotic Regency Romance
His Grace's Payment
This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, November 19th
[Siren Allure: Erotic Regency Romance, HEA]
Bethany may have been sent to Clayton’s home to serve as repayment of her father’s debt, but what she didn't expect was for the man to be so handsome. Neither did she ever think she would fall in love and want to remain with him forever. She didn't think she’d want to be anywhere but in her own home. Now she has to convince Clayton that this was where she belongs, with him.
Clayton Merrick, Duke of Wiltshire, loves his life of freedom and has no intentions on giving it up anytime soon. When Warren Thurlow leaves his only daughter in his care, Clayton's at a loss as what to do with the young woman. She scares him. Just being near her does things to him, makes him feel things he'd never felt before. Can he let her go when the time comes, or will he claim her as his own?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Excerpt
STORY EXCERPT
“Where is Mr. Thurlow?” The stranger’s voice was deep, resounding off the walls of the room. She tried to picture what the man would look like. Would he be short, rounding at the middle and old like her father, or young, tall, and lean? She certainly hoped for the latter. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel about a man like her father touching her. Her body shuttered at the thought and her nausea returned with a vengeance.
The servant interrupted her thoughts as he spoke once more. “I am afraid that he is gone, Your Grace, but he left something else as well.”
“Well, what else did he leave, Simpson?”
Bethany let out a gasp as the servant reached outside the door, grasping her arm and pulling her inside the library. She kept her gaze downcast as he led her tense body before a massive oak desk. Her body quaked with fright. What would she say to this man? What would he do to her when he realized she was his payment? Lord, help me I can’t do this. She was sure she’d die from fear and shame.
“This, Your Grace.” The butler stopped a few feet from the desk.
“Who are you, girl?” Clayton Merrick’s voice was deep and soothing, but held a bit of anger and cruelty to it as well. Bethany tried to back away, but Simpson held her in place with his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm.
“Bethany Thurlow, Your Grace,” she answered softly without looking up. She was surprised her voice worked at all. Her throat was so tight, she wondered how she was even still breathing.
“Why are you at my home, Miss Thurlow, and where the devil has your father gone?”
“I do not know where he has gone, Your Grace. He said to give you the envelopes. They are supposed to explain everything. He also said that I am to be part of his payment to you.” Her voice trembled.
His Grace began to laugh, causing her body to tremble harder. He stopped laughing and she could feel his gaze upon her. Was he studying her? She was too afraid to lift her head to see.
“You may leave us, Simpson.” His voice was calm and quiet.
“Should I prepare some refreshments, sir?”
“No, Simpson, that won’t be necessary just yet.”
Bethany waited as the servant exited the room. She jumped as he shut the door behind him. She was now alone in the room with the man. What did he have planned for her? Maybe he didn’t want the servant to hear what he had to say.
She closed her eyes, but opened them when her body swayed. Her knees were knocking together, she was shaking so badly. Could he hear her heart racing in the quiet of the room?
“Are you cold, Miss Thurlow?”
“No, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, and her knees went weak. She feared her legs would fail her at any moment.
“So, what am I supposed to do with you, if you’re meant to be my payment? I’ve never won a child in a card game before.” She could hear the merriment in his voice.
How old was he to believe that she was a child? How old did he think she was?
“I do not know, Your Grace. I believe my father penned everything on those letters.”
She waited and listened as he tore the seal from one of the envelopes. She jumped when he shoved his chair backward, knocking it over as he stood. Whatever her father had written had apparently angered the man. She heard him take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“I’ll wager your father will see the error of his way and return for you shortly, Miss Thurlow.”
“No, he won’t.” She shook her lowered head. “He’s not the same man he once was. I do not know my father any longer, Your Grace.” She watched as his shiny black boots appeared at the side of the desk and moved around it to step closer to her, and then he made his way completely around her. Her body began to tremble violently once more. She felt faint, but refused to give into the black depths of unconsciousness for fear of what would happen while she was out.
He stopped before her and pushed the hood of her cloak from her head. He placed his hand beneath her chin, lifting her face. She closed her eyes, afraid of what she would see, tears streaming down her cheeks, unbidden. She swallowed hard and inhaled deeply before forcing her eyes open to look up at him. He looked shocked as he stared down at her.
Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the man. He didn’t look anything like what she had feared. She had expected an old, fat, angry-looking man with a red face and balding head. This man was none of those things.
He was a tall, well-built man with hair the color of a raven’s wing. His hair hung loose, reaching a little past his shoulders. His skin was a lot darker than hers. His eyes were a bright, brilliant blue that reminded her of the ocean her mother had taken her to see once when she was a small child. It scared her the way her body reacted to the sight of this man. He was beautiful. No man had the right to look the way he did, it had to be a sin. He raked his other hand through his hair as he stared at her.
“How old are you, Miss Thurlow?” He studied her reaction to his question.
“Eighteen, Your Grace,” she answered softly. “I will be nineteen in a few days.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”
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