His soul-mate predicted to come "from afar", will Logan, Earl of Davenport, aided by his friend Lord Byron—and Logan's favourite riding crop—find his destiny when the independent Esme Tyme finds herself transported from contemporary Boston, Massachusetts to Regency England?
Esme Tyme, CEO of her antiques business, eschews romance in favour of building her success and asserting her independence by day. By night, her need for control at odds with her predilection for spankings and riding crops, her philosophy towards love is pure twenty-first century cynic—she wants her men to hit it (literally) and quit it.
Logan Davenport, hot—and hot-blooded—lord of the manor, channels his passion into breeding horses, resigning himself to the endless parade of insipid society women competing to attain his titles and his wealth, none caring to capture his heart.
To discover the love Logan's mother, blessed with the second sight, predicted would come to him "from afar," the couple, with a bit of help from one George Gordon, the Lord Byron, must reconcile Esme's twenty-first century sensibilities with Logan's high-bred sense when Esme finds herself transported from contemporary Boston, Massachusetts to Regency England—and into Lord Davenport's bed.
Reader Advisory: This book contains saucy scenes of spanking with the hero's favourite riding crop.
General Release Date: 24th October 2011
1.6em;">Esme pulled her favourite vintage quilt over her head, her peace disturbed by the cell phone set to vibrate and engaging in a jumping-bean dance on her nightstand. Reluctant to emerge from the delicious fantasy she had spun during those pre-dawn minutes, Esme nonetheless groped for the phone and read the latest in a stream of texts from her best friend—
former best friend, Esme decided.
The text would probably contain the usual tirade from Charisse. She had only grown worse since Esme had announced the grand opening of their Massachusetts office to her Canadian staff.
Getting off to your 'Lord of the Locket' works great for your fantasy life, Esme, but let's find you a man with a heartbeat for this party. To Esme's chagrin, Charisse had compiled a list of suitable candidates as soon as Esme had made the announcement.
Sure enough, this latest message from Charisse read, C nu list—BB4B, Charisse's text-talk for 'buff bachelors for boffing'. Esme turned her cell off, eyeing the early nineteenth-century ball gown and undergarments gracing the mannequin across the room. She grimaced at the corset laces hanging down the wire form, wondering how many awkward turns around the dance hall would result in her breasts popping right over the top of the bodice. Not for the first time, Esme regretted her decision to let Charisse take the reins for this launch party. Ah well... Esme let her gaze fall to the itinerary on her nightstand. Just this one bash stood between her and a much-anticipated three-month globe-trotting vacation while she turned the reins over to Charisse and her husband Timone. Esme eyed the corset again. I can handle even that for just one night.
At least the heirloom locket draped around the wire neck of her body-double was intriguing. Esme climbed out of bed, snagged the locket and stretched the nude length of her body before sinking down on the tufted stool in front of her vanity and opening the ornate locket.
One side silver, the other gold, the unusual, mismatched ovals of the locket afforded a vexing puzzle even for Charisse and her husband—Esme's resident experts in nineteenth-century antiques. However, three additional jewellers in the field had each documented the piece as genuine, despite its eccentric design. Esme's interest, however, lay not in the unusual mix of metals or the locket's certificates of authenticity, but in the miniature portrait nestled in the gold side of the locket.
This unique piece had come into Esme's possession eight weeks ago. The crew she had hired to repair part of the foundation in the Boston office building had unearthed a small, metal box buried in one corner. Esme had broken open the decaying box to reveal the locket within. Every morning since, caught in that sleep-state where grudging awareness of fresh Earl Grey tea brewing in her kitchen skirmished with her desire to revel in her fantasies for a few minutes longer, she had made love to the man in the portrait.
Esme opened a drawer, rifling through its contents. She glanced at his portrait, considered the battery-operated vibrator she held, and put it down again. No toy stashed in his nightstand would take double As…
Esme shifted forward, cradling the locket in one hand, slipping the other between her legs. His eyes, an unusual aquamarine blue-artistic licence, Esme imagined-mesmerised her nonetheless. She traced his mouth with her gaze, imagining his lips on hers.
Esme dropped the locket, closing her eyes, still seeing each fine detail, spreading her pussy lips with one hand, stroking her clit with the other, surrendering to the heat spreading through her. She opened her legs wider now, moving her fingers in and out, slow and gentle, imagining him fingering her wet cunt, his face—not hers—reflected in the mirror in front of her.
Esme lifted her fingers to her tongue, the scent and taste of her own arousal exciting her further. She lost herself in the fantasy, imagining him there, beside her…
Maria-Claire Payne is the alter-ego of another Claire who holds multiple professional credentials related to the field of radiation oncology and a graduate degree in psychology. Both personalities share a love of taking classes in English literature and reading in many genres as well as getting inked and admiring biker dudes from afar.
When no new reading material is readily at hand for whatever reason, her children have caught her reading cereal box-tops to fill the void. Maria-Claire lives in Southern Florida with her two rather conservative (how did that happen?) teenagers, the ghost of her soul-mate (her muse), and a crew of Himalayan and Persian cats affectionately referred to as the ?Pussy Posse.?
She loves to hear from her fans! She loves to hear from fellow romance readers!
Reviewed by Night Owl Romance Reviews
so hot you will need to reach for an ice cube or fan to cool you off. Esme and Logan relationship is like “Gone with the Wind's” Rhett and Scarlet's romance. They are two fiery, passion...
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