Dukes By the Dozen

“The butler is likely wondering what is happening behind the closed doors,” she murmured against his mouth. “My brother is gone to bed, of course, not that he would notice or care, particularly.”

“I would say ‘let them wonder,’ but you have a reputation to maintain.” He drew back, raised one blond, wicked brow. “Of sorts.”

“If a spinster of twenty-seven cannot take a lover, then the world is a dreary place indeed.” Bea pursed her lips. “Now that you know who I am, I’m quite inclined. It would be a novel experience to make love with a man who knows both the spinster and the highwayman.”

“What if I choose not to settle for just a lover?” Even as he spoke the words, Wulf appeared as shocked as Bea felt. Then his shock smoothed away and determination replaced it. “What if I want more?”

More than lovers? What was there? Bea could only see marriage, and she was not at all certain she wanted to be under someone else’s control in such a way.

“I may not have more to give, Wulf.” In fact, she was certain of it.

“With a heart as deep as yours, I know you do.” He swung her back into his arms. Strong, kind arms that did not restrain her. They only held her carefully, as if avoiding hurt or caging, before he claimed her lips for a deep kiss. “It is not a discussion for today, however. Today I only ask for a bath, breakfast, a decent bed—with you in it—and tomorrow we shall see what we see.”

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow might be filled with lovemaking and laughter, if Wulf was there. With conversation that did not involve gambling and brandy. With something deeper, if she could be open to it.

She might be.

“Today we shall see to breakfast and beds and—” she grinned wickedly at him. “Loving.”

“I am ready for that, as these moments in the proper drawing room are a torture. I am already seeing your gorgeous body on a soft bed, where I can love my highwayman properly.” He drew her close, set his lips to the curve of her neck. “Tomorrow and the next day, then, and we shall see to the rest.”

Bea could not fault that logic, so she settled into the circle of his arms and let Wulf kiss her senseless.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Despite being a native Michigander, Alyssa Alexander is pretty certain she belongs somewhere sunny. And tropical. Where drinks are served with little paper umbrellas.

Until she moves to those white sandy beaches, she survives the cold Michigan winters by penning romance novels that always include a bit of adventure. Her books have been translated into multiple languages, received Top Picks from RT, Publisher Weekly Starred Reviews, and nominated for RT Best First Historical and the Best First Book RITA^®. She has been called a “talented newcomer” and “a rising star you won’t want to miss.”

Alyssa lives with her own set of heroes, aka an ever-patient husband who doesn’t mind using a laundry basket for a closet, and a small boy who wears a knight in a shining armor costume for such tasks as scrubbing potatoes.

Interested in previous titles? Visit http://www.alyssa-alexander.com/books/.

Or you can follow Alyssa’s cooking misadventures and writing life at all the usual places, including Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. No guarantees what you’ll find!

THE DIFFERENCE ONE DUKE MAKES

FEBRUARY

ELIZABETH ESSEX

PREFACE

Miss Penelope Pease is what every bright young thing never wants to be—ruined, thanks to an ill-conceived flirtation with the late Duke of Warwick. But ruined suits the new duke, his brother, Commander Marcus Beecham just fine—because after a career in the Royal Navy, he’s rather ruined himself. All it takes is one frosty night for two imperfect people to make the perfect February valentine.

CHAPTER 1

London, February 1816

COMMANDER MARCUS BEECHAM turned his face into the bitter wind on the River Thames, closed his eyes and thought of England. Of easy living, lazy summer afternoons in the country, with picnics and long rides across the rolling hills. Witty conversations with charming girls who gazed at him with—

No. It was impossible. After more than a decade at sea, he doubted he could even hold a conversation with a girl.

And yet here he was, back in the damp land of his birth. His family had insisted, having written that he must resign his commission in the Royal Navy and abandon the career to which he had sacrificed ten long, hard years—and very nearly his life.