This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding digital copies of both books on tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Diana Fletcher means business. The beautiful, innocent, reverend’s daughter has traveled all the way to a tropical island off Madagascar on a mission: To find her brother—and to punish the man who drove him to a life of piracy. But when she comes face to face with the enemy in question, the handsome, powerfully seductive man is not at all what Diana expected…
Tristan Kent never intended to harm Diana’s brother. A man of humble origins, Tristan claims he tried to save him from another ruthless captain. Diana is desperate to believe he is telling the truth…and that the intoxicating desire that escalates between them is true as well. But can she trust him? Or is Tristan’s story—and his heart—nothing more than fool’s gold? Amid the haze of sensual delights and soaring ecstasy Tristan has in store for her, all will be revealed…
The 1920s are in full swing when Sadie Loudon leaves her grandfather’s stodgy vicarage, and she dreams of the glamour and excitement she’s seen on the silver screen. But before she even begins work at the storied Grand Russe Hotel, she is ushered into London’s glittering nightlife by a handsome young businessman intent on introducing her to the pleasures available to a Bright Young Thing. Is it a fleeting romance…or something even more intriguing?
Les Drake is on the lookout for Bolsheviks when he encounters sweet, sexy Sadie. A British Secret Intelligence agent, Les has more experience with the seedy underside of the city than with innocent chambermaids, but he can’t deny that Sadie tempts him. Using her as part of his cover seems like a brilliant plan until the danger of his assignment threatens what has suddenly become a love he can’t bear to lose…
Enjoy an Excerpt from I Wanna Be Loved by You:
Les glanced between the two women. His gut told him that they were not compatible. Sadie was too fresh and uneducated to appeal to this cosmopolitan refugee. Not like the young wife from Acton who was desperate for a friend. When Glass had given him orders he hadn’t accounted for Sadie’s youth. She was only a chambermaid, after all.
“What time is the rally?” he asked Semyon in Russian.
He responded in kind. “In an hour. Will I see you there?”
Les nodded. “I need to pay a couple of sales calls on bookshops here and then we will go to the docks. Will your wife come along?”
Semyon nodded and took his own bowl of soup off the tray. “She is very political.”
“Mrs. Rake is not educated in these matters.” Les spooned up the last couple bites of his borsht. There likely wouldn’t be time for food later.
“She’ll learn,” Semyon said. “What is her background?”
“Orphan,” Les said, not wanting to reveal more.
“English through and through, right?”
Les nodded and put his and Sadie’s bowls on Semyon’s tray, then poured overbrewed tea from the pot into his empty cup.
“Why did you marry her? Money?”
Les was glad they were still speaking in Russian. He let his gaze peruse the length of the skinny brown bow detail on Sadie’s cream dress. The ribbon slid down her chest between her breasts, revealing their buoyant shape underneath the thin fabric. He glanced back at Semyon, who smirked.
“A young man must have his pleasures,” Semyon said.
“Your wife is very beautiful,” Les told him. Sadie’s eyes went to him. The color matched the stormy sea now. He realized he had missed an exchange between her and Irina Kozyrev. When he glanced next to him he saw Irina was putting the nesting doll together, then, when at last the matryoshka was back together, she put the doll into the gift box and placed the lid on top, then slid it into her handbag.
Shocked, he let his hurt show as he moved his gaze back to Sadie.
She shook her head slightly, as if warning him of danger. Next to her, Semyon was devouring his soup. Sadie pushed a plate of brown bread to him and he took a piece without looking up.
Les stared at his erstwhile wife. Had she given Irina the dolls because she was afraid of her, or was there some deeper game? What had the girl sensed about her role here? Irina set her handbag on her lap, her lips curving with genuine satisfaction. With a last look at Les, Sadie deliberately moved her attention to the other woman, smiling.
Sadie had done the unexpected and turned the assassin’s daughter into an ally, it seemed.
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