When
Lady Helena Simpson flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord, she finds
refuge with James, a charming, handsome man unlike any she’s ever known. Helena
concocts the perfect solution to her problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her.
Surely her betrothed will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all
her efforts fail and she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of
her days, she will at least once have known true passion.
But
James is not all he seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark fancy.
When Helena awakens his desire, he becomes determined to take everything she
has to offer and more. No matter the cost.
2014 NTRWA Carolyn Reader Choice Award Winner
This book was originally published in 2013
and has been re-edited, re-covered and re-published.
Check out all the stories in the Noble
Passions Series:
Dark Fancy, Book 1
Dark Duke, Book 2
Brigand, Book 3
Defiant, Book 4
Folly, Book 5
Dark Duke, Book 2
Brigand, Book 3
Defiant, Book 4
Folly, Book 5
PRAISE FOR DARK FANCY:
4-STARS.You Gotta Read
"An entertaining read that will sweep readers away." Amazon Reviewer
"Dark Fancy was a great historical...probably the best ones I have ever read! She wrote it with humor and steam...lots and lots of steam!! What a great story!" Amazon Reviewer
"Massively hot!" Amazon Reviewer
4-STARS.You Gotta Read
"An entertaining read that will sweep readers away." Amazon Reviewer
"Dark Fancy was a great historical...probably the best ones I have ever read! She wrote it with humor and steam...lots and lots of steam!! What a great story!" Amazon Reviewer
"Massively hot!" Amazon Reviewer
READ AN EXCERPT
James stared at Eloise, brave, proud,
innocent Eloise. He could relate to the passion in her plea. He had a sudden
desire to be released from a betrothal himself. He fiddled with the corner of
his napkin. “There is always the chance your betrothed won’t care if you’re
ruined.” Some men did not.
Her lashes fluttered. When they rose again,
there was a look in her eye that sent lust coursing down his spine. It settled
in his cock. “If I’m to be married to a bilious flounder of a man for the rest
of my life, I should like to know passion just once. Just once, James.”
“J-just once?” His voice cracked.
Her smile blossomed. “Perhaps more than
once.”
He had to laugh, although this was clearly
no laughing matter. “My dear. I would be happy to oblige.”
“Excellent!” She clapped her hands with
glee.
Unfortunate, that, because it made her
look, once again, like a little girl. But then she picked up her cup and ran
her pink tongue around the rim, lapping at the wayward drops. He reached for
the second bottle.
She held out her cup for a refill. “You
will need to show me what to do.”
He almost forgot to stop pouring. Hell yes.
He’d love to show her what to do. He’d love to instruct her—in elaborate
detail—what, precisely, to do. Something snarled in his belly. His palm itched.
He forced down that decadent desire.
Chained the beast.
For God’s sake. She was an innocent, a
virgin. If he opened with that card, not only would she truly be ruined, she
would probably hie off to the nearest nunnery and spend the remainder of her
life in seclusion.
Oh, he would bed her. He would despoil and
beguile her, but only in the very gentlest of fashions.
But his fantasies, the darkling imagery of
what he would truly like to do, simmered.
“Are you…” He cleared his throat. “Are you
ready for your bath?”
“Heavens, yes.” Once again, she clapped her
hands.
The childlike gesture was off-putting
since, at the moment, he was thinking of sinking his cock into her body and
swallowing her moans with his mouth. But he liked her enthusiasm. It also made
him desire—very deeply—to tie those hands to the bedposts. So she couldn’t clap
them.
Why that thought made him salivate, he
didn’t know.
Ah hell. Of course he knew.
Despite the lust snarling through him, he
managed a modicum of chivalry, although it was perfunctory at best. “I’ll
fashion a curtain.”
Her next words nearly unmanned him. “You
don’t need to.”
“I b-beg your pardon?”
“You don’t need to bother with a curtain.”
For a shy and demure innocent, she had something of a brazen streak. “I mean,
if we’re going to…you know…”
“Make love?”
“Yes. If we’re going to make love, you will
see me naked anyway.” A frown crossed her brow. “Won’t you?”
He chuckled. “Most certainly.”
“I thought so. But people are not very
forthcoming when one asks about such things.”
“Really?” That had not been his experience
in the slightest. Then again, she was a girl. The world sought to save and
protect innocence. Until it ravaged it.
He did not know why he trembled as he
poured the heavy buckets into the tub. He was a man of the world. Jaded and
used to much more decadent fare than initiating virgins to the delights of the
flesh. He should hardly be nervous about the prospect of having her.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t nerves. Maybe
it was just pure, seething desire.
He had planned to seduce her—expected it to
take hours of sweet whispers and furtive caresses. Never in his wildest dreams
could he have anticipated this—that she would gaze at him across the dinner
table and politely ask him to ruin her.
She was, altogether, a different kind of
woman. Unlike any lover or mistress or professional girl he’d ever been with.
And the prospect delighted him.
He swished his fingers in the water and
added another bucket of cold to balance the temperature. He didn’t want her
delicate skin burned because he was in such an all-fired hurry to get her
naked. “There. Perfect.”
“Thank you, James.” Her voice was low,
melodious. It sent a ribbon of pleasure through him.
“Are you ready?”
“I cannot tell you how ready.”
He swallowed. Yes. He felt the same. His
pulse thrummed in his temple. And elsewhere. “Milady, your bath awaits.” He
gave a great flourish, his gaze firmly fixed on her.
She reached for her hem and then stilled.
“Could you turn around?”
Disappointment raked him. “Of course.”
“I’ve just never disrobed before a man
before.”
“I understand.” Damn. Damn, damn and damn.
He turned his back. Every rustle of fabric grated on him. He wished—oh so
fervently—that Babbage had a mirror. He so would have liked to watch.
A small splash.
He winced. His pulse pounded. God. She was
in the water. Naked.
She sighed. Moaned.
His cock lurched.
“Is it good?” His words were, at best, a
strangled rumble.
“Oh yes. Yes.”
He had to look. He couldn’t not.
The sight he beheld was exquisite. Eloise
had leaned back in the water to wet her hair. Her breasts, delectable pink
islands in the sea, thrust up. The nipples were fat and hard, distended.
He swallowed around the tight ball in his
throat. His nails scored his palms.
Though he was rooted to the spot,
determined to give her some modicum of privacy, his imagination ran rampant.
What he wouldn’t like to do to those tempting tips.
“James?” Her soft call wrenched him from a
delirious fantasy. Her expression was tentative, shy, but he could see the
light of determination flickering there.
“Y-yes?”
“Do you suppose there’s any soap?”
He blinked. Soap? He had trouble interpreting the word. His mind was occupied
elsewhere. “Ah. Soap.” He rummaged around in Babbage’s cupboard, cursing
himself for not remembering soap. He found a thick chunk of lye soap and
brought it to her. How he hated that it wasn’t something more delicate.
Something lilac-scented.
“Thank you.” She didn’t take his offering.
Rather she peered up at him with those beautiful emerald orbs and said, “Will
you wash my hair?”
His breath stalled. Would he? He fell to
his knees at her side—unmindful of the puddles on the plank floor—and looked at
her. Her nipples pebbled even more at his perusal. His mouth watered.
“James?”
He dragged his attention back to her face.
“Y-yes?”
“My hair?”
God. Yes. He made a lather and scrubbed it
into her hair. It was glorious, golden, smooth and silky. He worked the soap
through the strands and as he did, massaged her scalp. She closed her eyes and
groaned.
Thusly freed from her inspection, he
allowed his attention to wander. He nearly expired when it lit on that tempting
triangle of fair curls at the crux of her thighs. He imagined her touching
herself there. Then imagined him touching
her there. Then imagined opening her and stroking. Licking—
“James?”
“Huh? What?”
“Are you finished? I’d like to rinse.”
“Of course.” Reluctantly, he drew away. And
she submerged.
This time he could not resist.
WIN ONE OF FIVE NOBLE PASSIONS TIARAS!
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