TOO WICKED TO TAME by Sophie Jordan
Excerpt for TOO WICKED TO TAME by Sophie Jordan!
"Sizzling sexual tension ... thoroughly satisfying ..."
TOO WICKED TO TAME
by Sophie Jordan
Release date: March 2007
Would a Reluctant Beauty Ever Wed...
Headstrong Lady Portia Derring has an impeccable pedigree...and not a penny to her name. Which is why she is alone on the rain-swept Yorkshire moor, waiting for a wealthy earl she has never met but whom her family insists she wed. When she’s nearly trampled by the dashing blackguard’s stallion, Portia is more determined than ever to refuse Heath Moreton’s suit. Handsome devil he may be, but she could never marry a rogue who’s so clearly out of control!
A Wild, Incorrigible Beast?
An avowed bachelor, scion of the notorious "Mad" Moreton clan, Heath won’t be shackled in matrimony. Why then does this lovely, rain-drenched chit excite him so? Desire consumes him, but the eminently beddable lady resists his well-practiced seductions. Now only one route remains: Heath must ignore his bad blood, vanquish his inner beast...and prove to Portia that she's the only woman capable of taming his heart.
"God, you are a shrew," he chuckled against her ear, the sound oddly pleasant.
"Because I do not take insults kindly?"
"No, because nothing but vinegar flows from your lips."
"Then I shall spare you further ridiculous conversation," Portia retorted, hot indignation stinging her cheeks.
He chuckled again, the sound rich and throaty as he pulled her even closer. His hand shifted, sliding beneath her cloak to splay against her ribcage indecently. A circumstance she might have objected to could she break her self-imposed vow and speak. Instead, she endured his nearness in silence and denied that her heart raced at the feel of his big hand resting scant inches from her breast—denied that his touch sent waves of heat through her freezing body.
"Something tells me you’re unaccustomed to holding your tongue," he murmured, and his hand moved again, closer to her breast. "I don’t mind. Talk. I enjoy listening to your voice. So proper. Clipped but soft. Almost breathless, like your corset’s laced too tight. You know, I could loosen it for you."
"You—you beast!" Portia cried.