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Her Reluctant Viscount


Series: Rakes & Rogues ~ Book 2

Publisher: Sensual Romance Publishing  
February 2013
Genre:  Regency Historical

Format: E-book & Trade Paperback

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A man who has given his all in defense of the Crown encounters the one woman destined to make him understand he's allowed a life of his own.

Trystan Wilkes has secretly served the Crown for years. Josephine Adrys is the one woman he can’t forget. She becomes an unwitting pawn in a cloak-and-dagger game with The Alchemist, once believed dead. As the threat of death shadows them, his only choice—protect the woman who owns his heart.

Jo knows what the tonne speaks of when they titter behind their fans. Wild child from Africa. Untamed. Swept into a world of danger and intrigue she works with the man she’s loved for years—a temptation. Will being on the run and in close quarters allow him to see how perfect they are for one another?


Content below is not suitable if under 18.


“Try…Lord Wilkes.” Her words were clipped.

“Is everything all right here?” His protective instincts tended to flare out of control when it came to Jo.

The two men with the ladies exchanged nervous glances and he stepped closer, his size larger than that of the others.

“Oh, stop hovering!” Jo snapped. “I am fine! I am not in need of a doctor, nor am I about to succumb to the vapors. Leave me alone!”
The men walked off but Trystan never took his gaze from her. “Why would they feel you need a doctor?”

She did not respond until the two men had gotten far enough away and were sure not to overhear. Then she slapped her gloves against the side of her forest green dress.

“Because men seem quite content in believing women are incapable of being pushed down and not needing one. I mean why not, hitting the floor is so much more strenuous than say…oh childbirth.”

“Jo!” Clara placed her hand over her mouth. The mustard yellow not really helping her complexion in any way.

“Who pushed you?” The question sounded more akin to a wild animal’s growl.

Jo tugged her gloves on and speared him with an annoyed glance. “If I knew do you not think I would be after him to get my sketchbook back instead of standing here?”

Her sarcasm and fire lit him from the inside. God, he loved her spirit. He despised the thought of an uncouth man placing his hands on her.

“Jo,” he said with strained patience.

“Do not dare, Trystan, to put the blame on me. I did nothing wrong.”
Somehow, he doubted that. Jo had a way of finding situations. She had never learned to curb her tongue. She stared at him before her expression fell sending a dagger into his heart.

“Of course you would think the worst of me.”

Her features hardened into a mask. One he knew exactly where she learned it. Najja. The “show zero emotion” face.

“She is telling the truth,” Clara broke in, shattering the eye connection he had with Jo. “She had been sketching and when we got up to leave this man shoved her down, took her pad, and ran out the door.”

“No need to explain it to him, Clara. Lord Wilkes will always believe the worst of me. Let us go and offend him no more with my hoydenish presence.”

Fingers clenching around the knob of his walking stick, he frowned at Jo, who consequently had begun to walk away. Gesturing for Clara to wait, he caught up to Jo and grabbed her arm, spinning her back to him.

“Do not walk away from me.”

“Why not? Because I did not bob like a good proper woman would while I flutter my lashes and call you Lord Wilkes?”

Something had her back up and while he did not know exactly what it was, he knew it was more than just the incident in the museum. The attack had only riled her.

“Perhaps you would like me on my knees awaiting your next command.”

He came fully erect at that mental image her words painted. Her on her knees before him, hair unbound, eyes full of passion. Waiting. For him. For him to slide his length between her rosy lips.

“Oh, trust me, hellcat. I would love you on your knees before me.”

Her blue eyes deepened as her breaths came faster. She was aroused. He had expected his words to embarrass her. I should have known better.

Her gaze darted about, as if ensuring this remained a private conversation between only the two of them. Then she stepped closer, head tilted to maintain eye contact, and smiled.

“I would love to be there. Something I suspect you know. Just like I know you will not do anything about it.” Her gaze flashed to the obvious ridge in his breeches and back to his eyes. “No matter how much you want it as well.” Then she walked away, joining Clara, and leaving the museum.

He stood rooted to the spot for a while trying to comprehend and digest the fact she had just come on to him.


Copyright © Aliyah Burke, 2013.

All Rights Reserved.


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