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Released Nov 9th, 2015
Entangled Scandalous

London, 1814

Lady Jane Langley values logic and reason over passion and emotion. Her intellect has given her value in the eyes of both her father and society. Logic gives way to terrible, icy fear when Jane finds herself in a devastating carriage accident... an accident in which she is helpless to do anything but watch as her aristocratic companion is murdered.

But this was no mere accident. This was an assassination. Spy and grandson of Lord Landsdowne, Gerard Badeau is methodic in his dark, shadowy work, knowing that any display of emotion could get him killed. Something about the mysterious woman and her cool blue eyes stays Gerard's lethal hand. Now he has both a witness and a hostage.

And if he doesn't kill Lady Jane Langley, he risks a fate that is far, far worse...falling in love with her.

With each passing moment it was easier to accept his desire and fascination for her, to accept that in these few short days something had kindled between them, something that transcended the prevailing codes of morality and society. Not that he adhered to those codes in the usual course of things. He was hard against the soft roundness of her bottom, his trousers the only barrier between them, as the cloth of his shirt that she wore had risen up between them.
The gray light brightened to yellow, illuminating them both, and her eyelashes fluttered then parted. She shifted, turned toward him, and for one moment, he had a glimpse beneath the loose shirt of the bruised, distended skin of her injured shoulder.
His arousal fled and unease settled in his gut instead. It was easier to hide from truths in the darkness.
“You look very fierce,” she whispered and he met her questioning gaze. Of course she was questioning, wishing to know his very thoughts. The bed was no proper bed and distinctly uncomfortable, and yet he wished to laze here longer, to enjoy the challenge of her conversation and the intimacy of the space.
Such a domestic desire. What was it he wanted from her? What was it that he thought she could bring him? He watched her arm move and he was still stunned by her hand on his cheek, the pads of her fingers running over the rougher texture of his jaw.
“In half an hour we will begin our way down the
mountain to the main road,” he said, catching her hand in his and holding it there against his skin. “Each step will bring us closer to the rest of the world. You will think of how you can escape, with whom you can beg shelter and protection—it is only natural. But remember this. You are drawn to me as much as I am to you. Your life, for now, is with me.”
“For now,” she said.


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Sabrina Darby has been reading romance novels since the age of seven and learned her best vocabulary (dulcet, diaphanous, and turgid) from them. She started writing romance the day after her wedding when she woke up with an idea for a Regency. She resides in Southern California with her husband and son.