Sofia looked longingly at the weather-stained paper. “It is going to be awfully quiet there,” she murmured.
“It wouldn’t do to have a bored bride,” drawled Osborne. “However, if you wish to accept the marquess’s proposal, I will have to insist on an additional clause to be added to our marriage contract.”
“Which is?” she asked softly.
“That any danger we face, we face together.”
The duke clasped Lynsley’s arm. “Come, let us have a celebratory sherry in the library and leave the two of them to negotiate the terms in private.”
“An excellent suggestion,” said the marquess. “I hear you have a cask of the ’89 Amontillado in your cellar …”
Sofia waited for the door to close before letting out her breath. “This is no laughing matter, Deverill,” she said, seeing the smile on his face. “I nearly got you killed on this last assignment. I don’t want to force you into an arrangement you will come to resent.”
“My love, I never felt so alive as in these last few weeks. Neither of us would be satisfied with a life of indolent indulgence. We would be bored to flinders.”
“But you are the darling of Society. The ton looks up to you as a shining light of charm and wit. I …” Sofia looked around the room, taking in the sumptuous furnishings, the polished woods, the expensive art. “Your world is a comfortable one. I fear you will miss the accolades and attention.”
His smile faded, replaced by a crooked uncertainty. “The ton will find a new Lord Sunshine. They always do. As for me, the clever quips, the glitter, and the gaiety have long since lost their allure. I was more alone than you can ever know until I found you, Sofia.”
“Dev—”
Osborne’s arms were suddenly around her, strong and sure as he drew her against his chest. “No, hear me out, sweeting. The bon mots may come effortlessly to my lips, but talk of true feelings is not so easy. It is hard to find words for how much I admire your strength, your honor, your sense of purpose.” His lips were warm against her cheek. “So let me simply say again that I love you.”
Through her tears, the blue of his gaze was a shimmering sapphire blur. Sofia blinked. “Merlins aren’t meant to cry. We are trained to fly alone, but my heart is here with you. I know none of the fancy poetry of your world—”
Osborne silenced her halting words with a kiss. “We will make our own world, a balance between light and dark,” he murmured.
“That sounds beautiful beyond words.”
“Then let us go report for duty and get the details of our next mission from Lynsley.” But rather than release her, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the sofa. “But not quite yet.”
It was some time before Sofia straightened her skirts and smoothed the errant curls from her cheeks. “We had better make an appearance. They will be wondering what became of us.”
He chuckled. “No, they won’t. However, I shall discipline my naughty desires for the moment and obey your command.”
She gave a mischievous grin. “Get used to it.”
His brow arched. “Now, just a moment! I must insist on equal rank. I would never live it down if my friends learned that my wife wore the trousers in the family.”
“Speaking of trousers, it goes without saying that I will wear breeches and boots for riding.”
Osborne flashed a wicked smile. “I’ve no objection to seeing your lovely legs—” As he opened the brass latch, a folded sheet of paper fell from between the door and the molding. It was sealed with a black wax wafer bearing the image of a hawk in flight.
“Hmmm.” After a long look, he handed it over to Sofia.
She cracked the seal and smoothed out the creases.
The towns to watch are Nairn, Fidhorn, Burghead, and Lossiemouth. I’ve arranged for a small yacht to be at your service. It will be anchored in the village of Spey Bay. Messages can be sent to me through the owner of The Gorse & Grouse.
Good hunting,
L.
One last thing—in consideration of his past services, tell Osborne he can consider himself a full-fledged Merlin.
He read it over her shoulder and laughed. “I have just one question.”
“What’s that, my love?”
“Do I get a tattoo?”
DON’T MISS THE FIRST TWO NOVELS IN
ANDREA PICKENS’S
MERLIN SPY SERIES!
THE SPY WORE SILK
(Grand Central Publishing 0446-618004)
They were once orphans from London’s roughest slums. Now they are students of Mrs. Merlin’s Academy for Select Young Ladies, learning the art of spying and seduction. Bold, beautiful, and oh-so-dangerous, they are England’s ultimate secret weapons …
A DUEL BETWEEN DUTY …
The most skilled of “Merlin’s Maidens,” Siena is assigned to unmask a traitor lurking among an exclusive club of book collectors. Armed with only her wits, her blades, and her sultry body, she joins the gentlemen at a country house party. But her prime suspect, disgraced ex-army officer Lord Kirtland, proves as enigmatic as he is suspicious—and sinfully sensuous.
AND DESIRE.
Kirtland’s instincts tell him the enticing “Black Dove” is hiding more than a luscious body beneath her fancy silks. Yet, as he starts to plumb her secrets, a cunning adversary lays plans to destroy them both. To live, Siena must end her tantalizing dance of deception and desire—and decide whether to trust her head or her heart …
AND ALSO FROM
ANDREA PICKENS’S
MERLIN SPY SERIES:
SEDUCED BY A SPY
(Grand Central Publishing 0446-61799-7)
They are students of Mrs. Merlin’s Academy for Select Young Ladies, learning the techniques of spying and seduction …
ART OF DECEPTION
Hot-tempered and a warrior to the bone, Shannon is the most daring of “Merlin Maidens.” Her assignment: Stop the fiendishly cruel assassin who is targeting a top British ballistic expert’s family. Marshaling her intelligence, fighting skills, and weapons is easy. Being forced to work with the sinfully handsome Russian spy she loathes is something else.
GAME OF DESIRE
Witty, resourceful, and notorious for his rakish charm with women, Alexandr Orlov tempts Shannon’s fierce reserve and lithe body to win her trust. But in the remote Scottish castle where they must protect the innocent, their games of parry and thrust could end in death. A ruthless enemy is watching … and planning to turn their passion into the most dangerous weapon of all.
The Dish
Where authors give you the inside scoop!
From the desk of Andrea Pickens
Dear Reader,
As you can imagine, swashbuckling secret agents cannot be distracted by trifling matters, such as the state of their wardrobe. They have much more important things to think about—like swordplay, spying, and seduction. (It goes without saying that they are lady spies. Men would have no interest in discussing the cut of their trousers, would they?) However, there are exceptions to the rules of engagement, especially when the spies in question have known each other since childhood. So, when three best friends got together to discuss a recent mission—as documented in THE SCARLET SPY (on sale now)—the conversation went as follows:
Siena (to her friend Sofia): “Nice dress.”
Shannon (sounding a little jealous): “I had to wear pink, rather than that luscious shade of scarlet.” A sigh. “Pink is not my best shade.”
Sofia (with a sardonic smile): “Well, it didn’t matter overly much, seeing as how it seemed to come off you rather quickly. Mr. Orlov has very clever hands.”
Shannon (her face turning red): Expletive deleted.
Siena (tactfully changing the subject): “Nice pistol. Is it one of the new turnoff Italian pocket models?”
Sofia (flashing up the weapon): “Yes, isn’t it cute? And it matches the trim on my reticule.”
Shannon (to Siena): “How come we only got daggers?”
Sofia (
with an airy wave of her hand): “You two are dangerous enough without gunpowder. Lord Lynsley knew he could trust my ladylike restraint.”
Shannon and Siena (chortling in unison): “You, a lady?” The sounds of mirth grow louder. “Ha, don’t make us laugh.”
Sofia (arching a brow): “I might surprise you.”
Shannon (narrowing her eyes): “What’s that supposed to mean? We are sisters-in-arms and have been for years. There are no secrets between us.”
Siena (after a slight pause): “Are there, Fifi?”
Sofia (fluttering her lashes): “Sorry, girls, you will just have to read my story …”
No matter how hard they tried, her friends could pry out no further information. I, on the other hand, managed to learn a few more tidbits about Sofia’s scarlet secrets. They involve a trip to London, where she encounters the sinfully sexy Lord Osborne as well as a devilishly dangerous adversary, who …
Well, it’s a long story, and I’m running out of space here. You will just have to visit www.andrea pickensonline.com for a more tantalizing peek at THE SCARLET SPY and her adventures.
Happy reading!
Andrea Pickens
From the desk of Shannon K. Butcher
Dear Reader,
I’m a planner. I like to schedule things, make lists, and keep my life in nice, neat, organized bundles so I know what I’m going to be doing for the next two years or eighteen months, if I’m getting sloppy.
Needless to say, it doesn’t always work.
For instance, as careful a planner as I am, I never planned for Grant, my hero in NO ESCAPE (on sale now). I never even saw him coming until he was there on the page, making me grin.
When I wrote NO REGRETS, Grant was just a buddy—a sidekick created to add a bit of comic relief. By the time I’d finished NO CONTROL, I knew Grant was destined for his very own book. He kept popping up in my head, demanding a happy ending of his own.
Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, Grant was born years before I’d even decided to give writing a shot. It was the day my husband taught our then five-year-old son a lesson he called “drive-thru justice.” The two of them had picked up fast food on the way home, and when they got back with our feast, the toy was missing from the kid’s meal. It didn’t matter that our son didn’t really need the toy or that there were likely five more like it in his room. What mattered was that he’d been looking forward to that toy all day, he’d been really good in school, they’d ordered and paid for it, and it wasn’t in the sack. That toy was important to our son, so my husband declared they would get drive-thru justice. They drove all the way back to the restaurant and demanded the toy. And got it.
In the end, I think my husband spent more time playing with the toy than our son, but that lesson of justice—of righting even a small wrong on the behalf of someone who couldn’t—always stuck in my head. It came out in the form of Grant—a man who refused to let people smaller and more helpless than him be mistreated in any way.
That trait nearly landed Grant in prison when he was a teen. Now, years later, Grant is back in the last place on earth he wants to be—his hometown—to check on an old friend who left him an odd phone message he couldn’t ignore. But he finds out that Isabelle is not okay. She’s afraid, and Grant has never been able to ignore her fear. Not fourteen years ago when he killed the man who tried to rape her, and not now. It doesn’t matter that she’s a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of herself or that she never really intended for Grant to get caught up in this mess.
Of course, fixing it isn’t going to be easy. Someone is killing people from their past and staging the deaths as suicides, and bodies are piling up fast. Grant and Isabelle must work together to convince the police that Isabelle’s suspicion of murder is right before the next person falls victim.
This book was without question the hardest one I’ve ever written. Not only does it deal with some really tough issues, but also when I was outlining the story, it was nearly impossible to create a woman who was able to make Grant give up his womanizing ways. I mean, the man has it all—looks, brains, courage … stamina. Luckily, Isabelle is more than up to the task of taming Grant and giving him the life he so richly deserves.
Enjoy!
Shannon K. Butcher
www.shannonkbutcher.com
From the desk of Lori Wilde
Dear Reader,
Starry-eyed Rachael Henderson from ADDICTED TO LOVE (on sale now) is mad as heck, and she’s not going to take it anymore. After being stood up at the altar—twice!—on the very same day, she learns her parents are getting divorced after thirty years, and it’s the last straw. Born on Valentine’s Day in Valentine, Texas, she’s convinced she’s been fed a line of bull about love. She’s a romanceaholic, but no more! She’s drawing a line in the sand. Determined to stomp out unrealistic ideas about love, she starts Romanceaholics Anonymous.
Except she never counted on one very sexy sheriff with a heart as big as Texas.
Take Rachael’s test to see if you, too, might be a romanceaholic. And visit Rachael’s Web site at www.romanceaholicsanonymous.com. You might be a romanceaholic if:
You replace the heroine’s name with yours when reading a romance novel;
You knock down bridesmaids to catch the bouquet;
You go to the rodeo just to watch the wranglers in their Wranglers;
You wear nothing but a black silk teddy and stilettos while cooking dinner;
You have a wedding planner on speed dial;
Your everyday dishes are Royal Doulton’s ALLURE bone China;
You purchase rose-colored prescription eyeglasses;
Your voice mail says, “Leave a message, hug, hug, kiss, kiss”;
You’ve placed your phone number inside fortune cookies and passed them out to handsome single men;
And, last, but not least, you spray lavender on your sheets at night.
Hope you enjoy ADDICTED TO LOVE!
Lori Wilde
www.loriwilde.com
The Scarlet Spy
© 2008 by Andrea DaRif
ISBN: 9780446618014
FOREVER / HACHETTE
Ed♥n
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