By Julie Anne Long
She may well seem like an angel . . .
The second orphaned American heiress Titania "Tansy" Danforth arrives on English shorelines she cuts a swath via Sussex, enslaving hearts and stealing beaux. She is familiar with she's destined for a impressive titled marriage—but the single guy who fascinates her couldn't be extra notorious . . . or much less interested.
But it takes a satan to grasp one . . .
A hardened veteran of battle and inveterate rogue, Ian Eversea retains girls enthralled, his center guarded and his strategies open: why may still he succumb to the shackles of marriage whilst devastating attractiveness and Eversea allure make seduction so easy?
And Heaven hasn't ever been warmer!
When Ian is compelled to name her on her online game, he by no means desires the unmasked Tansy— weak, courageous, achingly sensual—will tempt him past persistence. And struggle as he'll, this infamous bachelor who stood down enemies on a battlefield may possibly ultimately give up his middle . . . and be dropped at his knees through love.
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Additional info for Between the Devil and Ian Eversea (Pennyroyal Green, Book 9)
He would not be rude to her in front of her father, but when they were alone, he would ask her what game she was playing. Clarice was so right! Lottie’s hands curled into tight balls at her sides. What a rude, arrogant, cold, beastly man he was! She would have liked to give him a set down, for he had no reason to be so insufferably condescending. Papa had, it was true, lost more money than he could afford, but Rothsay could have insisted on being paid. He had accepted Papa’s offer of his own free will.
What would happen if she changed her mind and withdrew at the last moment? Oh, fiddlesticks! He was an impossible man and she was being torn two ways. A part of her wanted to run away while she still had the chance—yet in her head a small secret voice wanted to make a fight of it. Rothsay was rude and arrogant. It would give her some satisfaction to prick his pride if she could. Lottie changed out of her travelling gown, which was fairly new, into one of the more comfortable dresses she wore at home when walking to the village or the vicarage.
I should be happy to provide you with a suitable mount,’ Sir Bertie said. ‘My mother occasionally rides and I keep a horse for her—but I have another I believe might suit you. ’ ‘That is extremely generous of you, sir. ’ ‘I dare say we have a horse that may suit you,’ the marquis said, his tone sharp, causing her to turn her head and look at him once more. ‘Your offer was well intended, Bertie, but I assure you I shall see that my bride has all she needs. ’ ‘Certainly. ’ Lottie wondered if she imagined it, but she felt a slight squeeze of her arm and Sir Bertie’s eyelid flickered.