Tempted by the Viscount
Lord Jakob Radclyffe left his past behind in the Far East. Or so he thinks
until a ruthless thief surfaces in London, threatening to ruin his
daughter’s reputation. With the clock ticking, Jake needs the
scandalous Lady Olivia Montfort’s connections in the art world to
protect his daughter’s future.
Olivia, too, has a past she’d like to escape. By purchasing her very own
Mayfair townhouse, she’ll be able to start a new life independent
from all men. There’s one problem: she needs a powerful man’s
name to do so. The Viscount St. Alban is the perfect name.
What Olivia doesn’t anticipate is the temptation of the viscount. The
undeniable spark of awareness that races between them undermines her
vow to leave love behind. Soon, she has no choice but to rid her
system of Jake by surrendering to her craving for a single scorching
encounter.
But is once enough? Sometimes once only stokes the flame of desire higher
and hotter. And sometimes once is all the heart needs to risk all and
follow a mad passion wherever it may lead.
Sofie spent much of her twenties raising two boys and reading every book
she could get her hands on. Once she realized that she was no longer
satisfied with simply reading the books she loved, that she must
write them, too, she decided to finish her degree and embark on a
writing career. Mr. Darling and the boys gave her their wholehearted
blessing.
in
a different state every year, visits crumbling medieval castles
whenever she gets a chance, and enjoys a slightly codependent
relationship with her beagle, Bosco.
His feet began a slow prowl forward, steadily erasing the distance between them, inch by deliberate inch.
She should feel panicked, or, at least, unsettled, by his purposeful approach. But those feelings refused to
take hold. The anxiety and anticipation of seconds ago flared into a single overwhelming sensation:
desire, white hot, ravenous.
He drew within a foot of her and stopped. The only sound in the room the jagged in and out of her breath.
So this was what it was to be a wanton? Aching from the nearness of his withheld touch, excruciatingly
delicious and exquisitely tortured all at once.
“Why are you here?” she muttered.
“How should I answer that question?” he returned, his voice a low, masculine register that quaked her to
her core. His head lowered, lips hovering just above hers for one, two, three rapid heartbeats, his breath a
whisper across her lips. “Like this?”
I love the pastel background in the cover. The blues are very eye-catching.