He’s kissed many ladies… This kiss, however, will be her first.
After three years, Miss Emily Green is alone with the man she loves. The boy she once knew has grown into a notorious rake. A lady knows little about dealing with rogues. This rogue is about to get a lesson in dealing with a lady. Excerpt-- Devon’s hazel eyes—eyes Emily had spent hours studying in their youth—were wide with the same surprise she felt. He stood, taller than when last she saw him, though still lean. He’d let his dark hair grow out, styling it with rakish carelessness. His tailcoat lay over the back of the couch. His white shirt and green vest were immaculately pressed. His cravat hung, untied, about his neck. Warmth spread through her to see him in such a state of undress. That searing heat mingled with her excitement at finding him, and culminated in a blush. He made no move to retrieve his coat. Simply stared at her. His gaze roamed over her, seemed to devour her. “You’ve grown up, Em.” She bit her lip, recalling rumors of his poor behavior during his time as a viscount. The heat in her cheeks intensified. His hazel eyes, the exact color of which she once loved trying to fathom, met hers. They were alight with happiness. His smile was warm. Suddenly, he didn’t look depraved, in spite of his missing coat and untied cravat. He looked like her Devon. She took two steps into the room. His smile widened, the pleasure in the action curling her toes in her slippers. “I can’t believe you’re here, Em,” he said. “Here?” she blurted, suddenly aghast. She was creeping about his house like some sort of petty thief, and he’d caught her. Far from appearing perfect and coolly indifferent, she looked like the desperate little fool she was. He shook his head. “In my library. I only dared hope, if I let it be known I was seeking a bride, that you would appear. I thought I’d have to search the entire ballroom for you, night after night, but here you are.” Her pulse quickened. He was indeed in the market for a wife, and he’d hoped she would come. Yet, he seemed to have put every obstacle between them. “If you meant to find me, why weren’t you in the receiving line?” “To have time to gather myself,” he replied. He gestured toward the front of the house. “I let Mother handle the receiving line. I always come here while she greets guests. I need time alone to prepare for the onslaught of marriage minded misses. The ones who aren’t you,” he added. He always waited in the library? She glanced up. No mural adorned the ceiling. So, Prudence had lied. A strange dryness formed in Emily’s throat. “I don’t understand,” she said, hurt intruded on her joy. “If you wished to see me, you could have called on us.” He’d had years to do so. Devon looked down, brown locks tumbling forward. “I should have called. Especially when your father died. I know what it’s like to lose a father.” His words were tight with emotion. “I should have come to offer what comfort I could.” “Yet you did not,” she whispered. Her insides twisted. Her elation of moments ago wilted away. “Why?” Other books in the A Lord's Kiss series To Know a Lord’s Kiss A Lord’s Dream Deceived by a Lord