Quin Graham is a man with many secrets. If another scandal can be avoided with a sham marriage, so be it. Only his fiancee isn’t at all what he expected and the clumsy, curious, and clever Elsinore refuses to be set aside. For reasons he’s unwilling to explain, the last thing Quin needs is to fall in love with his wife.
Quin paced the drawing room of his rented townhouse like a caged animal, fighting the urge to punch something—a wall, the fireplace…a duke. He snatched an open bottle of whisky off the writing desk on his next circuit across the room and took a long swig. The liquid burned a
trail down his throat and settled into an angry puddle in his gut.
Why on earth had the daft lass kissed him? That too brief kiss was full of hope and promise and all the unspoken words in a lover’s glance. At least it was to him. If only she hadn’t looked at him with those guileless eyes, if only she hadn’t smiled at him so sweetly and spoke to him so earnestly. Quin sighed. He should have walked away and left her to be someone else’s problem.
He took another long pull of the whisky, emptying the bottle. As of this evening, his options had dwindled to either marriage or a duel with a duke. It rankled nearly beyond his tolerance to have his hand forced by a woman. His last encounter with a conniving female had led him to his current…predicament.
Quin smiled ruefully, it was such an innocuous sounding word for the mess his life had become. Betrayal, murder, misery—all summed up into that one harmless sounding word by the man he’d hired to investigate it. The word did so little to convey the hell he was enduring. And yet, no one must know.
Quin reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out a silver portrait case, and snapped it open. A miniature of his son occupied one side, the other was empty. He could never bring himself to put her picture there, even before—well, even before everything. He’d made the charcoal portrait of his son less than six months ago. It showed a chubby, happy toddler with bouncing curls and a wide slobbery grin.
Little had he known when he’d drawn it, that other than a granite headstone, the sketch would be the only tangible evidence that his son had existed at all.
trail down his throat and settled into an angry puddle in his gut.
Why on earth had the daft lass kissed him? That too brief kiss was full of hope and promise and all the unspoken words in a lover’s glance. At least it was to him. If only she hadn’t looked at him with those guileless eyes, if only she hadn’t smiled at him so sweetly and spoke to him so earnestly. Quin sighed. He should have walked away and left her to be someone else’s problem.
He took another long pull of the whisky, emptying the bottle. As of this evening, his options had dwindled to either marriage or a duel with a duke. It rankled nearly beyond his tolerance to have his hand forced by a woman. His last encounter with a conniving female had led him to his current…predicament.
Quin smiled ruefully, it was such an innocuous sounding word for the mess his life had become. Betrayal, murder, misery—all summed up into that one harmless sounding word by the man he’d hired to investigate it. The word did so little to convey the hell he was enduring. And yet, no one must know.
Quin reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out a silver portrait case, and snapped it open. A miniature of his son occupied one side, the other was empty. He could never bring himself to put her picture there, even before—well, even before everything. He’d made the charcoal portrait of his son less than six months ago. It showed a chubby, happy toddler with bouncing curls and a wide slobbery grin.
Little had he known when he’d drawn it, that other than a granite headstone, the sketch would be the only tangible evidence that his son had existed at all.
Entangled has a Rewards Program!
IT'S FREE!!!
Click the image to learn more and sign up!
Win a $15 Amazon gift card!
No comments :
Post a Comment
PLEASE NOTE: I do not moderate comments, but some go to Spam anyway. Rest assured, I check regularly and will publish non-Spam comments shortly!