Aric Lakeland
dodged foot-traffic along the boulevard in a crazy attempt to keep up with the
bouncing erratic carriage he followed. The day was intolerably hot and his mood
was no better. He resented this mission. He’d left a cool pub and a cold brew
to sweat beneath the hot sun.
His idea of fun
was not traipsing after a notorious gambler and womanizer. Nor did he want to
baby sit a spoiled debutante.
Yet, he’d
promised. A wave of guilt washed through him.
Sweat beaded on
his forehead, dripping down his face. He swiped it with the back of his hand
and sidestepped, nearly knocking packages from a lady just exiting a
dressmaker’s shop.
“You owe me, my
friend. When this is done, I will collect,” he swore beneath his breath and
began thinking of all the favors he might ask of his half brother.
The carriage he
followed turned a corner and disappeared from sight. He plowed into a lamppost,
swore again and raced through the crowds. Richy Richmond did not deserve this
absurd protection. Richy could deal with his own affairs. The other part of his
half brother’s request bothered Aric. He did not want anything to happen to the
lady he followed. His half brother had reason to believe Richy might do
something to compromise her. His gut instincts had never been wrong. Ravyn
Grahm, cousin to his half brother’s wife, was in serious trouble.
Richy’s
carriage came to an abrupt halt. Richy jumped from the vehicle. His cane in
hand, he strode toward a dress shop Aric had reason to visit on occasion.
Aric watched,
fascinated as the scene unfolded. He started forward but noticed Richy race to
protect the women Aric followed.
“You
ruffians! Get your hands off me!” The white-haried Duchess shrieked, her
age-lined face mottled with rage, pushing at two little guttersnipes who seemed
more intent on shoving the elderly woman around than stealing the packages she
carried.
Ravyn swiped
her parasol across a boy’s head and turned to the other, her eyes blazing,
shooting violet blue sparks.
“Stop it!” she
cried out, raising her parasol again and again. “Take that! And that!”
Amused, Aric
leaned against a lamppost similar to the one he had run into earlier in his
race to keep Richy’s carriage in view.
He crossed his
arms over his chest, grinning as he watched Ravyn batter the boys who had had
the audacity to try and harm the Duchess.
He chuckled,
prepared to step in if needed but it appeared the two women had the situation
under control. Ravyn, he mused, the regal, classy lady who seldom had a hair on
her gorgeous head out of place was decidedly disheveled. Her cheeks were
flushed, her hair flowed beautifully from its perfectly coiffed hairdo. Her
jacket sleeve was torn and to his amazement, she grinned as if she were having
the time of her life.
“Go on, get,”
Richy stepped in, shooing the two boys away. He grabbed hold of one of the
boy’s arms and shook him. “Patrol,” he yelled, looking around for help. The boy
stomped on Richy’s foot. Surprised, Richy let go. “Bloody hell! Come back here. Little brat,” he yelled as
the boy ran off.
Aric cocked an
eyebrow, watching and wondering what would happen next, knowing Richy had a
card up his sleeve. He had not forgotten he was supposed to be watching Richy,
nor had he forgotten the man had suffered innumerable losses at the gaming
tables and the racetrack the last few days and he might do something to Ravyn.
Aric pushed
away from the lamppost and strode toward the women and Richy. He watched Richy
change demeanor. Suddenly instead of rescuer, he was attacker. Aric’s heart
stopped for a moment then raced.
Richy wrenched
Ravyn against him, pulling her close, her arm behind her back, his mouth close
to her ear as if he whispered something to Ravyn.
“Let go,” Ravyn
cried out, twisting and thrashing her arms. It seemed to be the opposite
scenario as moments before. The crowds that had previously closed around the
women had now dissipated.
“Let go,” Ravyn
cried again.
“You’re mine,
Ravyn,” Richy said in a low well-modulated voice. “You should have realized it
months ago and I’d have won the wager. But instead, you ignored me. You taunted
me and sometimes you pretended to care while other times you turned up your
pert little nose when I walked by.”
“What do you
think you are doing? Let go of me!” Ravyn cried out, hatred now in her stormy
violet eyes.
To Aric, she
sounded incredulous, perhaps confused. But strangely, not afraid.
“We--“he paused
a moment--“are going to Gretna Green. We are getting married and I will inherit
your estate. You will be mine.”
ALSO BY CHRISTINE YOUNG
BLURB
Jessica Lawrence is the
stepdaughter of a woman born in the twentieth century transported back in time
to the year 1868. An acclaimed suffragette, she raises Jessica to believe in
the equality of women. Jess Law believes everything she was taught, and when
the time is right she becomes a private investigator. Courageous and impetuous,
Jess finds danger in her quest to save all women from white slavery. Her
passionate mission results in a wedding to Roc Newman, a man she knows can
steal her heart...
Roc can't trust the
sapphire-eyed spitfire who invades his home in search of secret papers and
knocks him flat with her karate moves. Jessica's refusal to obey his wishes
serves to inflame the war between them. Still, he cannot control the intense
desire his reluctant bride inspires, or make her surrender her independence,
until he has conquered the headstrong beauty on the battlefield of love...
BLURB:
The first book
in the Highland Series
Willfully
stubborn, innocently courageous, Callie Whitcomb braves a journey through the
treacherous highlands to the Macpherson castle. Callie flees from an unwanted marriage as well as her
ruthless half brother. Naively she believes Colin MacPherson, the head of the
clan, is loyal to her father and will give her sanctuary, protecting her from
the vile plans that have been made for her.
As hard and as
unyielding as the winter storms that sweep through the countryside, Colin is
irresistibly drawn to the impetuous beauty who has magically appeared on his
doorsteps. Despite his vows
of revenge against her father, she stirs his passion as well as his sense of
justice...but to love her would violate all his vows of revenge.



No comments:
Post a Comment