Seven Rogues for Christmas: A Historical Romance Holiday Collection

by Dawn Brower

  Edmund stroked the bare skin of her arm as they nestled together on the bed. Jess glanced down at their legs and laughed.

  "What do you find amusing?" he asked.

  "You're still fully clothed, and I've still got stockings and boots on." Jess buried her face in his chest as the laughter took control of her. "We must look ridiculous."

  He laughed, and she glanced up at him, surprised by his reaction. His gaze shifted to hers. "What?"

  "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh." She stared at him in awe.

  "Not many people have." Edmund kissed her nose. His lips slid lower, taking hers in a languid, toe-curling kiss that seemed to go on and on. When he pulled away, his expression took on a serious tone. "Come to London with me." His hold tightened.

  "As your mistress?" Jess asked with a chuckle.

  "As my countess." His eyes reflected nothing but sincerity. "You belong to me. I would have you by my side."

  "People will talk. I'm not from a noble—"

  Edmund silenced her with a kiss. "I care very little for their opinions, and I've told you before I don't need a noble wife. I only need one I can trust." He cupped her face with his hand. "Well?"

  Jess blinked back the tears in her eyes. "You trust me?"

  "Implicitly."

  "Then why did you not tell me the truth sooner?" She bit her lip, knowing she shouldn't ask such a ridiculous question and ruin his mood.

  "I didn't want you to come to harm." He sighed. "My life is not uncomplicated. There are those who seek to do me harm and steal what is most valuable to me. I did not wish that fate for you."

  "And now?" she asked eager for his response.

  "You've proven yourself to be strong and capable. It will be easier to protect you under my own roof and with my name." He frowned. "Although, I anticipate trouble at times. You must obey me without hesitation."

  Jess thought for a moment and nodded. "I refuse to take orders that go against my better judgment."

  He pushed her down on the bed, pinning her arms to the mattress. "Stubborn woman." His punishing kiss silenced her. "I see I'll have to take measures to train you then."

  "Train me?" Her eyes flew wide. "I'm not your horse or a hound."

  "You're right, both my horse and my dogs listen better than you do."

  "Well, I..." She fell quiet as his tongue halted hers again. When he released her, Jess sighed in frustration. "Is that your solution to everything?"

  "Kissing you?" Edmund asked with a grin. "Yes."

  "You know I dislike you immensely." Jess poked a finger in his chest.

  "The feeling is mutual." He kissed her forehead. "We shall stay here until I have word from Simon and Monty."

  "Ah yes, the plot gets thicker." Jess nodded. "Are Simon and Monty friends of yours then?"

  "Yes, but we are more business partners," Edmund replied.

  "What kind of business are they in?" Jess asked as she glanced up at him.

  "Simon is a mob leader, and Monty is a detective for Scotland Yard."

  Jess bolted upright and stared at him. "You're joking, right?"

  "I'm afraid not." His charming grin reappeared on his sinful lips.

  Edmund's smile did nothing to ease her conscience. "Sweet merciful saints. Why couldn't the three of you just have been petty thieves like I'd assumed the night you came into my inn?"

  "We are thieves, my dear." He stole a quick kiss, surprising Jess once again. "But everyone has secrets. Even you."

  "Me?" Jess laughed. "You must be mistaking me with someone else."

  "Oh sweet Jess," he said as he reached out to palm her breast. "You're much more interesting than you care to admit." He leaned forward and suckled on her nipple. Pleasure coursed through her, making her want him again.

  "You are a wicked man, you know that?" She moaned as he lavished the other breast with the same attention.

  "I know everything." Edmund pulled her atop him. "Now kiss me, or I shall be forced to teach you what other uses I have for your pretty mouth, wife."

  End Book One

  Special Content: First Chapter from At Winter's Demand

  Judith stood in the doorway of the inn staring at the carriage rolling through the snow. Dumbfounded, she glanced at the man who stood where the carriage had just been. The absurdity of the last day left her head spinning. A trio of men showed up at her sister's inn the night before. Come the morning her sister claimed one of them to be her husband!

  The events made even less sense as the day progressed. Something didn't feel right. These men and her sister's strange behavior. She watched, helpless, as the ornate carriage faded into the distance carrying Jess to God knew where.

  "Where is your friend taking my sister?" she shouted at the man when he turned to face her.

  His shoes crunched in the fresh snow as he stalked the distance between them. The closer he came, the more his image sharpened. If she hadn't been so irate over the whole mess, she would have taken his expression as a warning.

  His eyes narrowed as his lips thinned with obvious displeasure. With each determined step he took, Judith beat down the sudden urge to run inside and hide. There was no mistaking him for a lackey. The man oozed intimidation. He pushed past her without a word as he entered the kitchen.

  "Hey, I'm talking to you." Judith closed the door and spun on him. She eyed the broad expanse of his back. "Arrogant horse's arse," she grumbled, following him.

  The man stood in the center of the room. His gaze moved over every surface as if searching for something. He turned slowly in a circle. When his gaze finally landed on her, he moved on to the parlor without even blinking.

  Judith walked to the front door and locked it. She'd had enough of this stranger ignoring her as if she were a speck of dust in the corner. She leaned against the door and dropped the key in the top of her bodice. Without even glancing at him, she walked past the silent man on her way to the kitchen.

  Judith turned the key in the lock, securing the back door as well, and deposited the second key with the first. She'd have answers, or there'd be hell to pay.

  The stew simmered on the stove. She ladled a bowl full and put it on a tray. After adding a small loaf of bread, she picked up the meal and carried it to the parlor. The man walked around the room, his hand gliding over the wooden walls. Judith sat down and began to eat as she watched his movements.

  "I cannot think of what you could possibly be searching for." Judith took another bite. "Perhaps if you ask nicely, I may be able to help you."

  He moved around the room as if he was the only person in existence.

  Judith sighed and ate while she watched him. Had the man provided at least a reason for her sister's hasty departure, she might have been able to forgive his rude behavior. However, he refused to acknowledge her presence. That irritated her more than anything else did. Short of a physical confrontation, Judith could come up with no other means of gaining information from the singularly infuriating man.

  "Do you even know how to speak?" Judith asked as she wiped the bottom of the bowl with the last of the bread and popped it into her mouth.

  He glared at her over his shoulder and then resumed his methodical search of every stone around the hearth. His cold assessment made her shiver. She picked up the tray and returned to the kitchen, eager to get a moment away from him. Something about the man shook her confidence down to its very core. What could he possibly be searching for?

  Judith allowed her thoughts to stray to her sister's actions earlier in the day. The handsome rogue she claimed to be her husband stalked much of her movements. She had found it curious, but at her sister's request, she'd remained silent. Damn him for stealing her away. Now she might never know what had transpired between them. Answers seemed as elusive as any chance of verbal discourse with the stoic man in the next room.

  As she washed the handful of dishes, Judith lost herself in thought. When the door to the kitchen swung open, she jumped and spun around, nearly dropping the bowl in her hand.
She pressed a soapy hand to her chest to still her fluttering heart and glanced up.

  The silent stranger stood in the center of the room, his gaze slowly moving along the walls. It slid past her without hesitation. Judith frowned.

  "You're about to drive me bloody insane," she said through gritted teeth before turning back to her task. She finished the rest of the dishes, dried them, and put them away.

  He never wavered from his task. When she passed him to put the pot on the shelf, his gaze fell on her for a brief moment. Before she could even discern the color of his eyes, he turned his back to her.

  "Bloody knob," Judith swore as she passed him again. His scent of leather mingling with notes of tobacco and vanilla blended with the familiar aroma of baked bread. Stopping behind him, she suppressed the urge to bury her face in his coat. Her eyes drifted closed, and she inhaled, drawing the scents deep, letting them linger.

  When she opened her eyes, a pair of smoky hazel eyes stared at her. The faint shadow of a beard highlighted his jaw. His sharp features accentuated by the way his black hair slicked back into a queue.

  "Fetch me some of that stew."

  Judith blinked twice, unsure if she heard him correctly or not.

  "You can talk. Saints above, would it hurt you to polish your manners?" She pushed past him and reached for the ladle. Her hand hovered over the spoon, and then she dropped it to her side to hide the tremor. Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned back to him and met his cool expression with a scowl.

  Judith propped her hands on her hips. "Tell me where my sister is first. You can at least do that much. I deserve to know where she is and if she's even safe..." The words died on her lips as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a dangerous looking silver pistol.

  "The stew, and bread too." He leveled the barrel at her and cocked the hammer.

  Judith swallowed the scream clawing at the back of her throat. With a nod, she ladled the stew into a large bowl and cut a loaf of bread in half. The knife nearly slipped from her grip. She pinched her eyes closed for a moment, refusing to look up and see the hollow barrel pointed at her head. Once she set the meal on the counter before her, she backed away without a word and wiped her hands on her apron in an attempt to hide their trembling.

  He uncocked the revolver and slid it back beneath his coat. Without another word, he picked up the food and retreated into the parlor.

  When the door swung shut, Judith dropped boneless to the floor. Her heart hammered in her chest as her hands shook.

  A gun! He pointed a gun at me. She buried her face in her hands and felt the hot tears against her palms.

  "Jess, what the hell have you done to me?"

  Kirsten S. Blacketer

  Stick her in the middle of a chaotic home with two children, a hyperactive dog, and a camouflage-wearing husband, and she can cook and clean with the best of them. But when the sun goes down and the children are nestled in bed fast asleep, she tucks away her pots and broom and like Cinderella she transforms.

  Her characters creep forth from the dark recesses of her mind taking their places in the castles and forests built from her words. No simpering heroines linger there with forlorn gazes turned to the horizon, waiting for their Prince Charming. They straighten their spine, arming themselves with blade and bow, prepared to do their part in defense of their honor and destiny. She breathes life into the women she believes our ancestors to be, showing how they lived and loved with passion and grace.

  Never bored by the tales still left to tell, she battles the ever sarcastic-muse in her quest for romance.

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  Discover other titles by Kirsten S. Blacketer

  Victorian Era

  At Winter's Demand (Book 2 in the Thieves of Winter Series)

  Medieval Era

  An Irresistible Shadow (Book 1 in the Shadow Guardian Series)

  A Shadow's Kiss (Book 2 in the Shadow Guardian Series)

  Short Stories

  A Cowboy Sunrise (Contemporary Short Story)

  A Wallflower’s Christmas Kiss

  Connected by a Kiss book 3

  Dawn Brower

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Wallflower’s Christmas Kiss © 2016 Dawn Brower

  Cover art by Victoria Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Created with Vellum

  Foreword

  The shooting star awaits a wish

  It’s alluring and quite roguish

  The flame is hot, as hot as fire

  In the dark, rife with desire

  Close your eyes, wish for bliss

  And experience a scoundrel’s kiss…

  Prologue

  A fire blazed in the hearth and along with several sconces of candles kept the room aglow. The window was glazed over with ice, as little Lady Juliette Brooks stared outside. The velvet black sky sparkled with stars twinkling down with heavenly light. A luminous streak filled the sky as a star shot across the darkness. Lady Juliette’s heart beat heavily in her chest. This was her chance to make the wish she’d been carrying inside of her for so long. There was only one thing her nine year old heart desired more than anything in the world. It was to always have her best friend by her side. She couldn’t imagine a life where he was no longer in it.

  “What is so interesting?”

  Juliette turned and met Lord Grayson Abbot’s, the future Duke of Kissinger’s, gaze. Her family estate bordered Kissinger Castle the ducal estate. Her father was the Earl of Riverdale. Every Christmastide their families came together to celebrate. Not that Grayson and Juliette ever needed a reason to spend time together. As long as she remembered he’d always been by her side. He was as patient, kind, and loyal as a twelve year old boy could be. She imagined he’d grow up to be the hero every girl swooned over.

  “I made a wish on a shooting star,” Juliette said.

  Grayson peeked over her shoulder and stared at the night sky. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she retorted. “Shooting stars dissolve as fast as they make an appearance. I’m sure my wish sent it on its way.”

  Grayson stood behind her his gaze focused on the darkness outside the window. Juliette wasn’t used to his silence—it was almost crushing, and unbearable to withstand. After a moment he stepped back and put some distance between them. Something was wrong—horribly so. He was distancing himself from her. What had she done?

  “What did you wish for?”

  Finally he spoke to her, but it didn’t ease her concern. He held himself stiff and distant. She didn’t like this side of him. What happened to the friend who was always willing to have fun and play silly games with her? She missed that Grayson and wanted him back. This boy in front of her was almost a stranger.

  “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

  He tilted his head and a stray lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead. He sighed. His blue eyes were almost as glacial as the ice outside. “I hate to break your heart,” he said with feigned concern. “But you should know wishes never come true. They’re a falsehood best left to story books.”

  “They are not,” Juliette exclaimed. “Why are you being so mean?”

  This was not her Grayson. Her friend would never be so cruel. What had happened since she’d last seen him? It had been less than a sennight. She’d found him at the pond separating their estate. He’d been sitting on the frozen water and staring down at it as if he expected to find the answers
to all his questions. He’d been quiet then, but not like this.

  “I’ve coddled you long enough don’t you think?” He crossed his arms across his chest. “I’m growing up and you’re a silly little girl.”

  Juliette’s bottom lip stuck out as a full on pout formed. Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes. Big droplets fell down her cheeks. What had she done to make him act thusly? She lifted her hand and wiped away the wetness from her face. If he was going to be a surly brutish nitwit than she had better things to do with her time—and being called a silly little girl didn’t top her list. “It is sad when I think about it,” she replied.

  “What is?” he asked.

  “That I was foolish enough to waste my wish on you.” She stomped away from him and left him to stare out the window. A friend that belittled you was no friend indeed, and Juliette didn’t need one who’d do something so dastardly.

  Grayson Abbot stared at the entrance of the sitting room. He should go after her and explain why he was being so churlish. It wasn’t her fault he had to go away. He wanted to make sure she was able to make it on her own. He wouldn’t be around much longer to protect her. Soon he’d be at Eton and would only see her on holidays. Father had informed him of the plan a sennight ago. He should have expected it. All young lords either went to Harrow or Eton to start their education. A tutor could only do so much to ensure an heir was properly taught. Grayson already devoured every book his tutor had put in front of him. He thirsted for more knowledge, but he hadn’t realized what that desire would lead to. He’d have to leave Juliette behind, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to change that. She’d been his only friend for so long he couldn’t imagine a day where he’d not be able to see her.