Synopsis:

For years, Daphne Wentworth, Countess Carrington has loved her powerful, enigmatic husband, despite the fact that they married under less than ideal circumstances. But no more. Finally at her breaking point, Daphne intends to create a scandal so big, her austere husband will have no choice but to divorce her. Except everything goes awry when he surprises her with the last thing she expected.

Sylvester Wentworth, Earl of Carrington, has returned to London for one reason—to seduce his wife. After a near-death experience, he is in need of an heir and means to make his marriage a real one. To his shock, though, his wicked, beautiful countess wants the exact opposite, and he must now do everything possible to entice his countess to stay forever.

Excerpt:

Sylvester prowled over to her until she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. She blinked when he took the glass and set it on his desk and then returned to her. He cupped her cheek with one of his palms.

“My lord?” Daphne stared at him, alarm coursing through her veins. He’d never held her with such intimacy before.

She was unnerved by the rather intense look in his eyes. Anger warred with fascination, and she shot a glare at her glass on the desk. Was she already tipsy? That could be the only excuse to even be slightly captivated. What was happening?

He dragged her up against him, one hand curving to the swell of her hips. Her skin prickled with a depth of awareness that shocked her into rigidity. He smoothed a thumb along the curve of her lower lip. She let out a gasp when he pulled her hair pins out and the weight of her tresses tumbled to her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked shakily.

He made no reply. Instead, the wretched man pressed his mouth to hers. They stilled, and her lips trembled against his. He had never kissed her before. They stood like that for what felt like forever, and she slowly became aware that his heart was pounding beneath the palm she had placed on his chest in denial. Her eyes that had instinctively closed flew open.

Oh! He was staring at her, and in the depth of his gaze, she spied surprise and desire so powerful her entire body quaked.

His lips moved, the stroke of his tongue against the closed seam of her lips tender, persuasive, arousing. Somewhere in the hazy back recesses of her mind, she hated her weakness for his touch. He coaxed her lips apart, and with a muffled gasp she submitted, her eyes fluttering closed. Sylvester grew more demanding, and she parted her lips farther, allowing him greater exploration. She made another incoherent sound. His tongue stroked against hers, and she jolted at the shocking and delightful intimacy. Daphne had not known a kiss could be like this, as if they were consuming the essence of each other.

Her husband was unyielding in his advances, and he kissed her over and over with devastating expertise. Something unknown was happening, and she felt panicked. An unbearable heat was twisting through her, and the sensations were too wonderful. She attempted gathering her senses, but his sensual assault did not abate, drowning away the protest before it fully formed.

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