DEFIANT,
by Sabrina York
Noble
Passions, Book Five
When
rakish Ned falls in with the wrong crowd, his brother decides to send
him to the Continent for “seasoning”. For Sophia, this just won’t
do. She’s loved Ned for ages—and also longed for adventure. She
runs away from her boring suitors and disguises herself as a cabin
boy on the Defiant,
the ship sailing Ned to Italy.
Ned
knows he’s not good enough for Sophia, but once they’re on the
Defiant,
he can’t stop himself from touching her, tasting her, loving her.
Not when a wild tempest and a band of ruthless pirates threaten them.
Not when every look from her gives him such pleasure. And certainly
not when she comes, warm and wild and willing, to his bed.
If
they survive their voyage, Sophia’s brother might kill him, but it
will have been worth every moment and every hot, sweet kiss.
A
Romantica® Regency
historical erotic romance from
Ellora’s Cave
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it now!
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AN EXCERPT
Sophia
stood on the bow of the boat in the dark as the wind and rain lashed
her face. She loved it. Loved it. Not only was the storm elemental
and fierce, it hid her tears.
Surely
she hadn’t expected Ned to greet her with open arms. Not when she
had barged in on his adventure as she had. But she certainly hadn’t
expected him to be so horrid. His expression had devastated her.
Foolish
girl, it said.
But
then, her heart agreed.
She
was foolish.
Foolish
to ever think that he—
“You’re
soaked.”
She
whirled around, though she knew what she’d see. More glowering.
She
was right.
“What
the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m
reveling.” She thrust out her chin, in case he didn’t believe
her.
He
gaped at her. “Reveling?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t mean to shout, but his wintry demeanor annoyed her
tremendously. She threw out her arms. “Look at this!”
“It’s
a storm.”
“It’s
beautiful. The waves are wild, untamed—”
“You
could be swept overboard.”
“The
wind is howling and the rain is savage. It’s glorious.”
“It’s
freezing. Come inside.”
“It’s
not freezing. It’s summer.”
“I’m
cold.”
“Then
you
go inside.”
“Sophia
Fiona—”
“Don’t
call me that.”
“It’s
your name.”
“You
sound like Ewan.”
“I’m
starting to think Ewan is a saint.”
She
glared at him. “What a beastly thing to say.” She hated that her
chin wobbled a little. Hated that he winced.
“I’m
sorry, Sophia. This has been trying for me.” He sluiced the water
from his face. “Won’t you please come inside?”
“All
right. Fine.”
“You
will?”
“You
did say please.”
He
blew out a breath and offered her his arm. She frowned at it. “I’m
a cabin boy, remember? You don’t offer a cabin boy your arm.”
When he didn’t lower it, she smacked it. “Someone will see.”
That
caught his attention and he slowly lowered his arm. “Right then.
Come inside.” He followed her back to the cabin, his stride
decidedly unsteady. If anyone was tipping overboard, it was most
likely him.
When
she once again stood in his chambers, she realized the folly of her
actions. She hadn’t brought a change of clothes and she was
drenched. So was he. Without a word, he relit the lamp and then
opened his trunk and pulled out several shirts, two of which he
tossed to her. “Change.”
That
was it. One word. Just “change” and then he presented her with
his back. She huffed a breath, but did as he asked because she was
really rather cold. The feel of the cloth falling over her chilled
flesh warmed her. Because it was his shirt. It had touched his skin.
She wasn’t sure why the thought sent heat scudding through her
belly.
“Use
the other shirt to dry your hair,” he suggested, as he began
toweling off as well.
She
huffed a laugh. “All of your clothes will be wet.”
“They’ll
dry. Are you clothed?”
“Yes.”
He
turned. And froze. His gaze locked onto her bare legs. “I-I thought
you said you were clothed.” A squawk.
“I
am.” But the intensity of his stare made her self-conscious, so she
slipped into the bed.
“Close
your eyes,” he said as he unbuttoned the damp linen clinging to his
chest.
“Why?”
“I
need to change as well. I’m f-freezing.”
“Okay.”
She did. But she peeked.
He
ripped off his wet shirt and her breath caught at the sight of his
broad back. Muscles rippled as he moved and she swallowed. He was
beautiful. He tugged the fresh shirt over his head and she nearly
whimpered as that magnificent vision disappeared. But then, he
unfastened his trousers.
All
pretense of not peeking evaporated.
He sat
and took a moment to work off his boots. And then he stood. His
trousers were tight, as was the fashion, and he had to peel them off.
As he bent, she caught a flash of his bare behind.
She
must have made a noise because he whirled around. His cheek bunched
when he saw her watching. “You’re supposed to have your eyes
closed.”
She
hunkered in the covers, as though that would disguise the fact that
her eyes were open wide.
“Sophia…”
It was
probably wrong to grin at him, but she couldn’t help it.
“Sophia
Fiona!”
“Stop
calling me that. It always makes me think I’m in trouble.”
“You
are
in trouble. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in.”
She
tipped her head to the side. “We both know Ewan will be so relieved
to see me, he’ll forget how angry he is—”
Ned
stilled and fixed her with a dark glare. “What makes you think I’m
talking about Ewan?”
“I…
ah…”
“I’ve
a mind to bend you over my knee.”
Why a
shiver rippled through her, she had no idea. She’d been spanked
once or twice as a child and she hadn’t cared for it in the
slightest. But something dark and domineering in Ned’s tone made
her womb warm.
“You-you
wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t
I? Now, look away. Your brother would skewer me if I gave you the
education you’re about to have.”
She
attempted not to snort. Ned—and everyone—thought her a prim and
innocent miss on account of the polish she’d acquired at Lady
Satterlee’s. Nothing could be further from the truth. As a child,
before Ewan had made his fortune, they’d lived a hand-to-mouth
existence in the slums of Perth. She’d seen more than one couple
rutting against a wall in a dingy alleyway. And at one point, she and
her brother had taken refuge in a bordello. She’d been only seven,
but if she’d had an education, she got it there. She could probably
teach Ned a few things.
Still,
because he seemed to expect it, she squeezed her eyes tight and
didn’t hardly peek at all as he finished changing. Besides which,
the spot she was interested in was mostly shadows.
With a
great huff, he threw himself back into the chair. “Now, go to
sleep.”
“Don’t
you want me to put out the light?”
“No.
I want to be able to see where you are.”
“I’m
not leaving again tonight.” Probably. Unless her despair overcame
her once more.
“Leave
it on.” A grunt, and not a very nice one at that. Why he had call
to be annoyed, she couldn’t fathom.
Blast
and damn, he was an annoying man. Sophia grunted as well and rolled
over, facing the wall of the cabin. She studied the patterns the
swinging lamp made for a long while, listening as he shifted one way
and then the other.
It was
really unfair for him to have to sleep in the chair. This was his
room. But he would never share her bed. She grimaced at the way the
words came out, but it was true. He wouldn’t. Unless…
She
rolled over again and watched him twist in the chair. He caught her
eye and frowned.
“Ned?”
An
impatient groan. “Yes, Sophia?”
“Ned,
I’m cold.”
He
stilled. Then barked, “Put on another blanket.”
“There
aren’t any more.” She faked a shiver. She wasn’t cold in the
slightest. She never was. Ewan said she ran hot. “Brr. My teeth are
chattering.”
His
glower became a frown.
“I
hope I don’t get ill.”
He
paled. “You shouldn’t have gone out in the rain. Why did you go
out in the rain?”
She
sneezed. Or something like it. “I don’t know.”
“Sophia?”
“Am
I running a fever?” She put her palm to her forehead. “I think
I’m running a fever.”
His
brow wrinkled. He stood and made his way across the tiny chamber as
though on his death march. He set the backs of his fingers to her
cheeks. His frown darkened.
“You
are warm.”
“No.
I’m cold.” She shivered and peered up at him, her eyes as wide as
she could make them. “Won’t you warm me?”
He
wrenched his hand away as though she’d burned him. “What?”
“Lie
here beside me and warm me up?”
“There’s
not enough room for both of us.”
“I’m
small.”
“Sophia.”
She’d never heard her name in such a strangled voice, not even when
Ewan was at his wit’s end.
“Just
for a bit? You can be on top of the covers. Surely that is decent.”
The
muscle in his cheek bunched again, as though he were grinding his
teeth.
“Please?”
He
gusted a sigh. “All right, Sophia. Scoot over and make room.”
She
did. With alacrity.
“And
roll over, facing the wall.”
She
frowned at him “Why?”
“Just
do it. Please.”
“Oh,
all right.” But only because he said please. And because, when she
was facing the other way, he couldn’t see her grin.
He
settled in behind her and a shiver rocked her. He was warm. And he
smelled delicious. Not fishy in the slightest. It was delightful,
lying here with him. She closed her eyes and imagined he wanted this
as much as she.
If
only. If only.
Check
out the other books in the Noble Passions Series from Sabrina York
Follow
the decadent exploits of friends and enemies as they find love and
passion in the glittering world of the Regency—and its dark
underbelly.
2014
EPIC eBook Award Finalist
2013 Passionate Plume Finalist
Widowed and threatened with penury by her heartless in-laws, Eleanor--Lady Ulster--hatches a plot to save herself. Determined to produce the Ulster "heir", she seduces a stranger at a tawdry masquerade. Little does she know, this magnificent masked lover is none other than her husband's greatest nemesis. And God knows Ulster had plenty.
Ethan Pennington is mortified to arrive at a house party and discover Lady Ulster in attendance. He has wanted her and hated wanting her--his enemy's bride--for years. When he overhears Eleanor's predicament and her plans to place a cuckoo in the Ulster nest, he is more than willing to oblige. The opportunity to finally claim her--while taking the revenge he craves--is more than he can resist. Ethan strikes a bargain with Eleanor, promising to provide her with the heir she so desperately needs...if she will meet his needs in return. Every decadent one of them.
2013 Passionate Plume Finalist
Widowed and threatened with penury by her heartless in-laws, Eleanor--Lady Ulster--hatches a plot to save herself. Determined to produce the Ulster "heir", she seduces a stranger at a tawdry masquerade. Little does she know, this magnificent masked lover is none other than her husband's greatest nemesis. And God knows Ulster had plenty.
Ethan Pennington is mortified to arrive at a house party and discover Lady Ulster in attendance. He has wanted her and hated wanting her--his enemy's bride--for years. When he overhears Eleanor's predicament and her plans to place a cuckoo in the Ulster nest, he is more than willing to oblige. The opportunity to finally claim her--while taking the revenge he craves--is more than he can resist. Ethan strikes a bargain with Eleanor, promising to provide her with the heir she so desperately needs...if she will meet his needs in return. Every decadent one of them.
The
sizzling prequel to Folly
2014
Winner of the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Award
When
Lady Helena Simpson flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord,
she finds refuge with James, a charming, handsome man unlike any
she’s ever known. Helena concocts the perfect solution to her
problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her. Surely her betrothed
will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all her efforts
fail and she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of
her days, she will at least once have known true passion.
But
James is not all he seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark
fancy. When Helena awakens his desire, he becomes determined to take
everything she has to offer and more. No matter the cost.
Edward
Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff’s life has been turned on its
end. His well-ordered home has been invaded. By destitute relatives.
From Scotland. How on earth can he write Lord Hedon’s salacious
novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting fires in the
library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion. His
cousin’s companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin
MacAllister. He is determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need
for funds and her talents as an artist, he convinces her to draw
naughty pictures for his naughtier books…and he draws her into his
decadent web.
But
Kaitlin has a secret. She’s fled Scotland—and a very determined
betrothed. When Edward’s cousin is kidnapped and held in her stead,
Kaitlin is honor-bound to return to her homeland and rescue her—much
to Edward’s chagrin.
Because
suddenly he can’t bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man.
He can’t bear the thought of losing her at all.
Kidnapped
and held prisoner by menacing Scottish brigand, the notorious
McCloud, Violet Wyeth does her best to persevere…and resist his
rakish charms. But when she realizes The McCloud is really Ewan St.
Andrews, the boy who once saved her life, the boy who once kissed her
and made her heart flutter, she is lost.
Ewan
has every intention of marrying Lady Kaitlin MacAllister. He
desperately needs the entrée into the ton
this bride can provide. But when his bride is delivered—bound and
gagged—it’s not Kaitlin. It’s Violet Wyeth—the girl who
betrayed him and ruined his life when he was a boy. He keeps her,
determined to punish her for her sins. But when he discovers the
truth about what really happened so long ago, and seething passion
rises between them, he can no longer hold on to his rusty grudge. By
the time he realizes how much he loves Violet—that he always
has—he’s lost her.
All
he can do is follow her. Follow her into the bowels of hell—and
partake in the torment of the glittering London Season, where the
harpies are far more dangerous than a Scottish brigand.
About
Sabrina York
Her
Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award
winning author of over 20 hot,
humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range
from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with
her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook
or on Pintrest.
Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon
or wherever e-books are sold. Visit
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1 comment:
Lisabet, thank you so much for sharing!!
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