Lord of the Privateers
by Stephanie Laurens
Series: Adventurers Quartet
Mass Market Paperback: 512 pages
Publisher: MIRA (December 27, 2016)
Resolute, determined, and an all but unstoppable force of nature, Isobel has a mission of her own—find her cousin Katherine and bring her safely home. And if, along the way, she can rid herself of the lingering dreams of a life with Royd that still haunt her, well and good.
Neither expects the shock that awaits them as they set sail aboard Royd’s ship, much less the new horizons that open before them as they call into London, then, armed with the necessary orders and all arrangements in place, embark on a full-scale rescue-assault on the mining compound buried in the jungle.
Yet even with the support of his brothers and their ladies and, once rescued, all the ex-captives, Royd and Isobel discover that freeing the captives is only half the battle. In order to identify and convict the backers behind the illicit enterprise—and protect the government from catastrophic destabilization—they must return to the ballrooms of the haut ton, and with the help of a small army of supporters, hunt the villains on their home ground.
But having found each other again, having glimpsed the heaven that could be theirs again, how much are they willing to risk in the name of duty?
As he followed her down the steps and into the corridor leading to their cabins, he wondered in which direction her recent thoughts had taken her.
He was tempted to ask, but they’d reached the doors to their cabins, hers dead ahead, his to the right.
Her fingers closed about her doorknob; she released the latch and turned to face him.
Instead of the simple “good night” he’d expected, that he’d planned on deflecting long enough to steal another kiss, she studied him for a heartbeat, then said, “There’s an issue we need to address.”
They were standing mere inches apart; the unique perfume he associated with her—a combination of the herbs in her soap and the elemental scent of woman—was wreathing around his brain. With his senses and a good portion of his wits already distracted, he tried but couldn’t imagine what she meant. He arched a brow. “What issue?”
Her dark eyes locked with his. “This.”
She closed the distance between them, slid a hand behind his nape, drew his head down, and pressed her lips to his.
Before he could react, she took one last step—and her body met his, her breasts to his chest, her hips to his, her firm thighs riding against the length of his.
His brain seized. His senses flared.
She parted her lips, and he was already falling.
No power on earth could have prevented his arms from locking about her, his hands from splaying over her back and seizing, his lips and tongue from surrendering, avid and greedy, to her invitation.
Then, quite deliberately—with a deliberation that was statement, declaration, and challenge rolled into one—having seized their reins, she let them go.
Let them fall.
And there was nothing left—no restrictions, no reservations, no reason at all—to stop them from plunging into the maelstrom of a passion too-long denied.
It erupted and swallowed them whole.
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