An Inconvenient Kiss

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by Carole Kimberly




  An Inconvenient Kiss

  By Caroline Kimberly

  India, 1820

  Georgiana Phillips always conducted herself according to the rules of polite society. So catching Simon Ashford in a compromising position should have been shocking. Instead it was...arousing. And kissing him herself was absolutely delicious—until it led to her ruination.

  That perfect, scandalous kiss has haunted Simon for six years. He doesn’t regret it, though he’s tried desperately to restore Georgie’s reputation. When he’s ordered to look after her in the wilds of India, it’s an opportunity to finish what he started. But he’s no match for Georgie’s adventurous spirit—she seems set on getting herself killed, diving in after hungry crocodiles and braving monsoons to hunt for lost treasure.

  Georgie wouldn’t trade her exciting new life for anything in the world, including marriage. And yet Simon seems determined to rein her in, rewarding her brief moments of propriety with kisses far more exotic than any tribal ceremony or archaeological expedition. How can he convince her that she’s so much more than a beautiful obligation?

  100,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  When I looked at what month I was writing this letter for, the song “Kokomo” immediately popped into my head. And now, though it’s still a little cold and blustery outside my windows, in my mind, we’re all sunning ourselves on the beaches of some tropical island, reading something incredible. Since you’ll be reading this letter in July, it’s entirely possible you will be on a beach somewhere, so let me help you with the incredible reads part...

  Looking for something to add even more steam to your hot summer nights? Check out Going Under by Jeffe Kennedy, the first in her contemporary erotic romance trilogy. She’s a genius computer game designer who changed her identity to escape online trolls. He’s the crack undercover reporter who’s tracking an elusive and enigmatic hacker—her. They’re a combustible combination both in and out of bed.

  Jeffe isn’t the only author with a new beginning this month. We’re pleased to welcome debut author Caroline Kimberly to Carina Press with her unique historical romance trilogy. Set in the wilds of British India, and pitched as Romancing the Stone meets Regency, she’s no demure young miss and he’s no proper soldier. And what they experience is more than An Inconvenient Kiss. If you’ve been longing for something different in the historical romance genre, don’t miss this one!

  Ann DeFee and Inez Kelley join us in the contemporary romance genre with their respective books, A Hot Time in Texas and Should’ve Been Home Yesterday. This wraps up Inez’s Country Roads trilogy, so be sure to pick up the first two books if you haven’t already!

  Problems in Paradise by Kelsey Browning is also in our contemporary lineup this month. A small-town Texas café owner wants to bury her sordid Los Angeles past and become a part of the community, but the sexy chief deputy must uncover her secrets even if it destroys his campaign for sheriff and their chances for love.

  Fans of Julie Moffett’s Lexi Carmichael series are going to fall in love all over again with No Biz Like Showbiz, in which our favorite geek girl is off to Hollywood to bring down a hacker who’s manipulating the online voting for one of America’s favorite reality television dating shows. This is a series with something for everyone: geek references, a new adult feel, mystery themes and enough romance elements to keep any romance reader happy. If you haven’t started the series yet, you can start here or pick up No One Lives Twice at any etailer.

  Shirley Wells also has a mystery release for fans of detective novels, and is back with Dead End, A Dylan Scott Mystery.

  Two fantastic authors bring us two incredible urban fantasy novels this month. In Steve Vera’s Blood Sworn, the enemies of two worlds reluctantly join forces to fight the armies of the Underworld. And in Summoned Chaos by Joshua Roots, if there’s one thing Warlock Marcus Shifter hates it’s the Delwinn Council. They’re not pleased that he once turned his back on his kind, and he’s convinced someone on the Council is working to undermine the twenty-year peace with the non-magical Normals.

  John Tristan also shares a journey in the world of fantasy with The Sheltered City. In a land devastated by dragonfire, a man with a curse in his blood must help an elf find his missing brother in this male/male fantasy romance.

  And to round out the diverse selection of novels we have for your beach-reading pleasure, in A.M. Arthur’s Maybe This Time, when serial singleton Ezra Kelley meets his match in sexy bartender Donner Davis, both men will need to let go of past hurts before they can have a future together.

  Of course, if you’re spending a lot of time on the beach and need more, don’t forget to go diving into our backlist, which offers a variety of page-turning books in all genres of romance, mystery and science fiction from authors like Lauren Dane, Josh Lanyon, Marie Force and more.

  Coming in August 2014: Shannon Stacey is back with the final (for now) installment in the Kowalski series, we welcome Lisa Marie Rice and her cracktastic contemporary romantic suspense to Carina Press, and I’m off to Mexico for my own lie-in on the beach!

  Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Editorial Director, Carina Press

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to everyone who made this book possible: my wonderful agent Laura Bradford, my enthusiastic editor Kerri Buckley, and most especially my husband, Jason, whose constant support and encouragement have allowed me to pursue my dreams.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  London, 1814

  Georgiana Phillips stumbled, blind with fury, as she ran through the labyrinthine bowels of Mason House. A stray lock of hair flew into her mouth and she cursed silently as she swiped it away. That stupid oaf Lord Rowling! How dare he grope her as though she were a common milkmaid?

  It was partly her fault, she supposed, as she scurried faster and rounded another corner. Somehow the pasty-faced baronet had duped her into taking a stroll to escape the heat of the ballroom. As she had met Harold Rowling on several occasions, she’d deemed him incapable of higher thought and taken him at his word. She had no idea he would grab her into a closet and proceed to...to...maul her. The man was a pig! Had it not been for a well-timed stomping with her jeweled heel, who knows how far he would have gone? Her coiffure was falling down and she was sure she looked thoroughly disordered, but at least she’d gotten away with her virtue intact.

  Shuddering, Georgiana tried yet another door, chancing a glance over her shoulder. This one was locked as well. There were more people behind closed doors tonight than out on the dance floor, she mused darkly.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall to her right and Georgiana clawed desperately at the next handle. Offering up a silent benediction, she turned the knob and held her breath. The tell-tale click sent a wave of gratitude through her and she stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her and lea
ning heavily against the solid wood.

  Holding her breath, she listened for her pursuer. It was little more than the length of a few heartbeats before footsteps neared. “Come out, come out, sweeting,” she heard a voice cluck, the words muffled by the heavy door.

  The hairs on the nape of her neck bristled at the sound of his voice, and she was vaguely aware that she had stopped breathing altogether. Doorknobs rattled faintly, and she looked down just in time to realize that there was no key in the lock. She grabbed the latch and held fast, planting her feet firmly and pushing against the door with all her strength.

  An instant later, the knob twisted in her hands. Georgiana Phillips—the reigning sensation of the last two and half Seasons and a young lady noted for her self-possession as much as her stunning looks—choked down a sob. The handle moved again, just a slight turn, and for a moment she feared it might slip from her grasp. From the other side of the door came a grunt and a hissed curse. Another moment and she could hear footsteps retreating.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Georgiana relaxed her grip and sagged against the door, squeezing her eyes shut as she gathered her senses. She stayed like that for a long moment as she tried to determine whether or not she might actually give in to the temptation to fall apart and weep all over herself.

  After what felt like an eternity, Georgiana’s heart settled and her breathing slowed. Once she had her thoughts under control, she opened her eyes and frowned. Most young ladies in this situation, she supposed, would go straight home to their beds with a case of the megrims. Having never been a docile young miss, however, she actually felt more angry than weepy. Rowling should be punished.

  Dragging in a deep breath, Georgiana released the handle and turned to survey her sanctuary. In the flickering candlelight, it appeared to be a lavishly furnished sitting room—probably a private retreat for the lady of the house. A small room off to her right was partially blocked from view by a brocade drape. The heavy fabric didn’t completely hide the mirror that hung on the wall, however, and Georgiana drew herself up to her full height.

  She would take a moment to fix her hair and gown and compose herself. Then she’d return to the ballroom like a queen, an ice queen, and cut Rowling for the rest of the Season. Georgiana grimaced. In truth, she’d make sure Rowling was considered anathema by the time the Season had ended.

  Georgiana crossed the room toward the mirror, pushing aside the curtain. As she did, she discovered something that made her forget about Lord Rowling entirely. “Simon!” she blurted stupidly.

  “Georgiana?”

  Simon Ashford stared at her, shock and embarrassment in his dark green eyes. He was sprawled in an overstuffed chair, and she was so stunned to find him here that it took Georgiana a moment to realize he wasn’t alone. A second pair of eyes, icy blue, glared up at her. At first Georgiana was confused. Simon’s female companion practically had her head in his lap. Why on earth was she on the floor? Especially since Simon was partly undressed—

  Understanding washed over Georgiana, and she could feel a bright crimson blush spreading from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

  “What are you doing here, Lady Georgiana?” Simon muttered as he fumbled with his trousers. Flags of color rose on his high cheekbones.

  Georgiana couldn’t stop herself from peeking at the curvaceous woman still on her knees in front of Simon. His companion, one Mrs. Octavia Fenimere, huffed in indignation and pulled herself upright. Her thick blond hair was mussed and her gown was pulled low, baring her very large breasts. Georgiana felt her blush deepen.

  Simon’s shirt was open, revealing a lovely expanse of smoothly muscled chest. Her own stomach muscles tightened oddly at the sight. Unspeakably uncomfortable with the sensation, she forced her gaze to his face.

  Simon looked at her as he pulled on his boots, narrowing his eyes at Georgiana’s mussed hair and ruined gown. He shot to his feet and grabbed her elbow tightly. “What in the name of Lucifer happened to you?”

  When she didn’t answer immediately, Simon shook her elbow, his grip almost painful. “What have you been doing, Georgiana?”

  She glared up at him, suddenly and unaccountably hurt. “Certainly nothing as...as...vulgar as you have!” she sputtered angrily. She wrenched her arm from his grasp. “And with a married woman,” she scolded. “You ought to be ashamed!”

  He started to protest, but Mrs. Fenimere sauntered up to them and wrapped herself around his free arm, her breasts barely covered. She batted her eyes, but Simon didn’t seem to notice. When it became apparent her charms weren’t working, she turned to glare at Georgiana.

  “Go back to all the other good little girls,” she said haughtily, shooting Simon a sidelong glance. “The grownups are playing here.”

  Georgiana felt her face go hot again as she choked on her indignation. Simon glowered.

  Mrs. Fenimere smiled like a cat in cream, oblivious to the storm clouds gathering in the young man’s eyes. “Simon, I do believe we have shocked Miss Perfect down to her perfect little toes.”

  “Octavia,” Simon barked, his tone warning. “Give us a moment.”

  Glaring at Georgiana one more time, she sniffed and flounced off to fuss with her reflection at a side mirror. Simon turned back to Georgiana, taking her arm again and leading her out of Octavia’s earshot. “Well?” he demanded.

  Georgiana yanked her elbow away from his hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. She stiffened her spine and shot him her haughtiest look. “If you must know,” she stated, “I took a short constitutional.”

  “With whom?” he snapped.

  She set her jaw and glared at him stubbornly. Simon crossed his arms and stared back at her, unmoving, until she huffed, “Lord Rowling.”

  “Did he take liberties with you?” Simon asked, his voice nearing a growl.

  “Well I didn’t arrive at the ball looking like this, did I?” Georgiana growled back.

  “Did he... Are you—?” he asked, clearly not happy to need to ask the question. In fact, he looked ready to explode.

  “If you are asking me if he compromised me, Mr. Ashford, the answer is no. Though not for lack of trying on his part, mind you,” she added bitterly.

  Simon exhaled deeply, seeming oddly relieved. He studied her intently, and Georgiana felt her knees go inexplicably weak at his scrutiny. His shirt was still undone and she forced her gaze to his chin. When his hand reached up to smooth an errant lock from her forehead, she nearly leaped out of her skin. He had never touched her before. Her breath caught, just a little, and she lifted her eyes to his.

  Simon shook his head, as though forcing himself awake, and cleared his throat. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. Georgiana swallowed hard. Simon, oblivious to her racing heart, smoothly started herding her to the door. “At the other end of this hall, second door on the right, is a small salon. Go there, lock the door, and fix your hair and gown as best you can. I will find Nathaniel to fetch you home.”

  “And then what?” Georgiana snapped, annoyed that he ordered her about like a younger sister. She stopped and faced him. “Do you honestly believe I should tell my brother that Rowling accosted me? You know Nath. He’ll make a scene and by tomorrow morning everyone will have caught wind of it and I’ll be forced to marry that...ass!”

  “No,” Simon’s lips twitched. “I’m not suggesting you tell your brother. In fact I am quite directly telling you to not say anything to Nathaniel about Rowling.”

  Georgiana snorted. “So Rowling gropes me and gets away with it?”

  “On the contrary. I am going to beat him to a bloody mess,” Simon said, clearly relishing the idea.

  “Oh bravo, Mr. Ashford,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That way Rowling doesn’t compromise me—you do! Brilliant!”

  Simon shook his head. “I am not going to compro
mise you, Lady Georgiana. I will quite simply sit down at the card table with Rowling, have a few drinks, and badger him into a fight. I get to punch him senseless, and your reputation remains pristine.”

  Georgiana considered that for a moment. She wanted to punch Rowling herself, but unfortunately that was impossible. And if her brother did the punching, she most likely would end up leg-shackled to Rowling in sickness and in health, for better and for worse. She balked at the thought. Marriage to the baronet was definitely “for worse.”

  Simon’s offer really was the best solution. Plus, if she were to be completely honest, an alarmingly large part of her was thrilled at the thought of Simon Ashford defending her honor, even if it were done surreptitiously.

  “Very well,” she said pertly. “But I expect you to bloody his nose.”

  This time Simon did smile, something he rarely did and certainly not for her. Behind his full lips, his teeth were as perfect as the rest of him. The effect was as brilliant as the sun appearing on a cloudy day.

  It quite stole her breath away, and Georgiana was suddenly fussing with her gown, unwilling to look at him lest she stare stupidly. She felt herself stepping back, as though standing too close to him might simply empty the air from her lungs. After an awkward moment of silence stretched between them, Georgiana blinked and dared to peek at him. He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  Mrs. Fenimere chose that moment to insert herself between them and lean possessively into Simon’s naked chest. Stroking his shoulder as though marking her territory, she looked down her nose at Georgiana.

  “Run along now, Miss Perfect,” the older woman purred. “Simon and I have some unfinished business.”

  The other woman’s disdain was just too much, considering everything Georgiana had endured tonight. Something hot pricked at her eyes and she crossed the room hastily, trying to block the images of their earlier “business” from her mind. She frantically groped for the door handle, hoping to flee before a torrent of tears humiliated her forever.

 

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