Blurb: To have and to hold?
Reluctant debutante Lady Clarissa Macpherson has never forgotten the forbidden kiss she shared with notorious rake, Lord Theodore ‘Ben’ Bennett, all those years ago. Even now, he’s the one man who sets Clarissa’s pulse racing and her skin tingling – no matter how hard she tries to ignore it!
Yet, when Ben rescues her from the unwanted advances of a drunken Lord at a society ball, she finds herself in a most scandalous predicament – engaged, to the most eligible bachelor in London!
Wedded? It appears so, but bedded? Clarissa demands more from her marriage than simply surrendering to her new husband’s sexual desires, especially when she realises she’s falling deeper in love with him every single day. Ben must prove that she’s the only woman for him – and surrender his heart!
Yet resisting her new husband’s delicious seduction may prove the hardest thing Clarissa has ever done…
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About the author:
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband —their children having flown the nest—in a house much too big for them, surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge, and her house with the dust bunnies who congregate. They must know they won't be disturbed.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.ravenmcallan.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan
The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett,
Excerpt
‘All
the gardens were my mama’s favourites when she was alive.’ Stupid. After all, how could they be if she were dead? ‘She would
have said exactly the same with regard to the staff. I’ll make a note to let
them know.’ He experienced the usual sharp pang of loss that hit him whenever
he thought of his long-gone mama. She had passed when he was at Eton, and Ben
still experienced the loss, as if it were the day before. ‘I feel they may be
neglected somewhat. I’m sure she – I – would be happy for your input.’
Her
sigh stirred the hairs on his neck.
‘You
don’t like the idea?’ He’d thought she’d be pleased. Truly the way a woman’s
mind worked could be a mystery. For one fleeting moment Ben had a vision of his
last mistress. Her mind worked in one way only – calculating what was in it for
her. He had parted company with the fair lady when her demands began to be
inappropriate. Right from the start he’d told her it was a temporary liaison
and, whatever she’d thought, he’d had no intention of altering the status quo.
And now he was married? Ben had an uneasy feeling life might not be the same,
even though he thought he and his wife had come to an understanding.
‘The
gardens?’ he prompted Clarissa when it seemed she wasn’t going to answer.
‘Oh
yes, the gardens. Perhaps.’ Her offhand, indifferent tone of voice irritated
him. The knock on the door came as a welcome relief. Ben was out of his depth,
and he didn’t like the sensation.
He
liked the news even less.
‘What
do you mean, some idiot’s driven into my coach?’ He roared the words, and
blinked rapidly, as if the gesture would change the declaration uttered by the
harried footman in front of him. ‘How the hades did you let that happen?’
Clarissa
placed her hand on Ben’s arm. How he stopped himself from shaking it off, he
had no idea. He glanced at her impatiently. She stood her ground and returned
his perusal.
‘My
lord, have you never heard the expression do not shoot the messenger? Scraptoft
here is only relaying what’s happened. He is neither responsible for it, nor
able to alter the chain of events. He’s told you about the accident, and you
need to go and see for yourself what’s to be done.’
The
footman flashed a grateful glance in her direction and Ben gritted his teeth.
She was right, of course, but he didn’t like to be reminded of it in such a
fashion.
‘Of
course, my dear, you are, as ever, correct.’ He cursed the defensive tone.
‘I
accept your apologies and acknowledgement, my lord.’ The words and intonation
were dulcet, the look in her eyes not so. ‘I will arrange for our food to be
delayed until your return.’
Ben
nodded curtly. ‘Thank you. My apologies, Scraptoft. It is, of course, not your
doing. Forgive me – I was somewhat perturbed.’ He gestured to the man to precede
him, and turned back to his wife once the other man had left the room.
‘I
trust you can entertain yourself while I’m away?’
Her
eyes filled with mischief, and he could have sworn she choked back a laugh.
‘Of
course, sir. I have a book.’
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