Thursday, 10 April 2014

The Scoundrel's Secret Siren - Daphne Du Bois Feature

He could deny the truth no longer: the most valuable thing he’d ever won in a game of chance was the heart of Miss Lorelei Lindon. Was love not the greatest gamble of all? 

When bored Miss Lorelei Lindon sneaks out in the middle of the night in search of ghosts, she finds rather more than she bargained for in the enigmatic Lord Winbourne. And when he does a dastardly thing and steals her treasured necklace as a memento of their midnight encounter, she must find a way to retrieve it without causing a scandal. 

Lord Winbourne is certainly a mystery and he seems determined to make her whole world unravel. How can one man burn with such passion one moment, and assume such a frosty façade the next? 

Will Lorelei be able to retrieve her trinket without losing her heart and her virtue to the irresistible rake? Is she a complete wanton or is the passion between them so wrong that it must be right? And will he acknowledge the true depth of his own passion before it is too late?

Throw in a few well-meaning relatives, a niece stubbornly caught up in her own romantic dilemmas and duel to the death, and Lorelei’s life will surely never be boring again…


Daphne has always had a passion for literature and history and one day it occurred to her: what better way to use her English Literature degree than to write the kinds of stories she loves to read? She hasn’t looked back since. 
Daphne also writes lyrical fantasy under the pen name Emily de Courcy, and who knows where she'll branch out next!

Daphne has stacks of notebooks full of stories that still need to be written, which she insists on bringing with her when she moves around the world (she’s done this a lot!). She likes her books full of romance, magic, adventure, witty repartee and a dash of silly humour. When Daphne isn’t writing, she can be found painting, picnicking, reading and listening to all sorts of exciting music.


Suddenly, as his arm intimately encircled her waist and his body moved gracefully so near her own that, Lorelei had a very good idea of exactly why the waltz had been considered so dangerous.
She felt her blood pulse and the heat of his touch branded her skin through her shift and gown. It was most outrageous! The man even had the nerve to keep up a stream of polite conversation, in which she found it almost impossible to participate. And he knew just what he was doing because even as he spoke, he had the nerve to give her an indolent little smile.
 It was as if her mind had somehow slipped out of control, wandering forbidden reaches Lorelei hadn’t even been aware she possessed. She wondered how he knew that he had managed to put her in a state – was her passion so clearly written upon her face for all to see?
The young woman had an irritating suspicion that he was playing another of his games at her expense. It made her stubbornly persist in the fruitless struggle to regain her reason – but it was so very tempting to let go. She was intoxicated by his potent masculinity.
Lorelei was quite correct in her supposition: Winbourne was well aware of the exact effect of his nearness on the young woman in his arms. It would have been impossible to miss, for her breath was unsteady and her delicate flush made her eyes brighter than ever. Her elegant bosom fluttered unsteadily, half-revealed, half-hinted at beneath the cut of her ball gown.
Winbourne’s eyes appreciatively took in the sight for a few moments before he forced himself to look back up, because the temptation to taste her skin was almost too much for his self-control. Her eyes were locked on his face and she seemed delightfully speechless.
He had to resist the urge to draw her soft form nearer to his own, propriety and watching eyes be damned. And there were many curious eyes watching them, he knew. Yet as far as he was concerned, they barely existed. Lorelei was so little and fragile compared to him. Her delicate shoulders and pale throat made her appear entirely too vulnerable.
The earl was entirely at sixes and sevens to explain this strange compulsion to hold Miss Lindon within the safety of his arms. He had never felt so out of control of his desires and emotions before. Not even during his engagement had he felt so very inexplicably protective of a lady. Yet he felt drawn to this one, with a force he could neither explain nor resist.

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