A Touch of Passion
Read A Touch of Passion Online
Authors: Bronwen Evans
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance
Contents
When a thrill seeker clashes with her dutiful defender irresistible sparks start to fly...
Independent and high-spirited, Lady Portia Flagstaff has never been afraid to take a risk, especially if it involves excitement and danger. But this time, being kidnapped and sold into an Arab harem is the outcome of one risk too many. Now, in order to regain her freedom, she has to rely on the deliciously packaged Grayson Devlin, Viscount Blackwood, a man who despises her reckless ways – and stirs in her a thirst for passion.
USA Today bestselling author Bronwen Evans grew up loving books. She has always indulged her love of storytelling and is constantly gobbling up movies, books, and theatre. Is it any wonder she’s a proud romance writer? Evans is a two-time winner of the RomCon Readers’ Crown and has been nominated for an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award. She lives in Wellington, New Zealand.
A Promise of More
A Kiss of Lies
Praise for Bronwen Evans
“This tale is poignant, heartwarming and readers may be reaching for the Kleenex once or twice before the breathtaking ending.”–
RT Book Reviews
(4 1/2 stars)
“Bronwen’s historical romances always make the top of my reading list!”–
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Jen McLaughlin
“The passion between [Christian and Sarah] sizzles off the pages.”–
Eye on Romance
“The flow of the story is magnificent, as are the characters, who have admirable depths of complexity.”–
Buried Under Romance
“Gut-wrenching and so well written,
A Kiss of Lies
is one of my favorite reads.”–
Book Obsessed Chicks
“An absolutely brilliant historical romance, full of secrets and dark pasts,
A Kiss of Lies
was a fantastic read.”–
Imagine a World
“
A Kiss of Lies
is one of those books that made me laugh and cry. In its sensual and tender moments, it brought tears to my eyes, and the witty banter between characters made me smile again and again. No one writes wounded characters who are healed by the power of love like Bronwen Evans. This is a book sure to touch your heart.”–
Bestselling author Shana Galen
“Absolutely riveting; a veritable page-turner. Fresh and delightful, with just that shade of darkness to up the stakes and keep the reader intrigued. A definite must-read!”–
Zee Monodee
“I love this book and look so forward to reading anything and everything from Bronwen Evans.”–
Book Lovin Junkie
“Evans is an engaging, talented historical romance author. A must read!”–
My Book Addiction
Bronwen Evans
In loving memory of Nana, who was proud of all I have achieved, even if my books were a tad too saucy for her delicate tastes. December 2014 at 103 years of age. RIP.
C
YPRIANS
’ B
ALL
, L
ONDON
, 1813
“I’m surprised Lord Blackwood has graced us with his presence. It’s common knowledge he’s enamored with the French ballerina Juliette Panache. I doubt he’s in the market for another mistress.”
“With his appetites, he no doubt has a stable of mistresses.”
“True. I heard he once pleasured ten women in one night.”
Lady Portia Flagstaff moved closer to the group of courtesans salivating over Grayson Devlin, Viscount Blackwood, as if he were a succulent feast to be devoured. Many years of experience allowed her to damp down her jealousy. She could hardly blame any woman for lusting after Lord Blackwood. She counted herself, along with most of England’s females, among his panting throng.
Being madly in love with Grayson was her penance for having being so mean to him when they were younger. She’d tried everything she knew to exile him from her thoughts, but it was hard to forget him when he was the talk of the
ton
.
Lord Blackwood had entered her life just before her tenth birthday. He had always been her elder brother Robert’s best friend, but the day he’d moved permanently into their home, she’d cried in her room for hours. Why did it have to be Grayson,
a boy
, who had survived his family’s carriage accident? She already had five brothers. How could life be so unfair?
Grayson’s sister, Lucinda, had been her friend, and she couldn’t understand why she’d died when Grayson hadn’t. Portia was too young and frightened to understand, so she’d blamed him.
Lucinda’s death was her first introduction to how precarious life could be. Almost dying from lung fever at sixteen had been her second lesson. From that moment on she’d made a vow to live her life to the fullest. She wanted no regrets when death finally came calling.
“They say he can outlast any man, and his lovers speak of his prowess with awe. He cares more about a woman’s pleasure than his own—rare indeed. His kind of loving is priceless. I’d even do him for free.” This statement was followed by a gaggle of giggles.
“I’m more interested in learning if he
is
truly hung like a stallion. If so, I’d love to explore the evidence.” More giggles.
“ ’Tis true. Claudette said she could barely walk for a week, but it was well worth the two days spent in his bed.” This statement was followed by a collective sigh.
All the while Portia was listening to the seasoned courtesans she kept her eyes trained on Lord Blackwood, simultaneously praying he didn’t see her and wishing that for once he did see her—
as a woman
. She knew Grayson looked upon her as a replacement baby sister when she definitely did not view him as a brother. She never pushed the issue, because she was petrified of losing him from her life, but sometimes, watching from the shadows as he flirted and seduced, he broke her heart.
He’d find her presence here scandalous, as would most of society, an unmarried lady of two and twenty years unaccompanied at such a ball. Her five brothers would be angry, but they understood how confining the
ton
was for a woman of her intelligence. They encouraged her need for independence, respected it. However, Grayson compared her to the one woman he held in the highest regard, his dearly departed mother, and therefore he found Portia wanting.
Grayson had a distinct view of women, probably because his mother had died when he was young and he idealized her memory. Lady Blackwood had been considered a sweet, dutiful paragon of virtue, and no woman could live up to her reputation. Grayson’s women generally fell into two groups. There were women, beautiful and sensual, often in certain sexually paid employment, whom he wanted in his bed. Then there were the other women, who were demure and respectable. Women he considered as potential marriage material. Unfortunately, Portia fell into a third group, women whom he could not place in one of the previous two categories.
She
was
aware that if her identity became known, she’d be ruined. She’d thought her quest for knowledge was worth society’s scorn. However, as the evening progressed, it appeared that this had to be her worst venture yet.
“Oh, I say. Who’s the other handsome gent with Lord Blackwood? Perhaps we can entice the two men to play for the evening.”
Her heart skipped a beat, for she knew without looking who stood behind Lord Blackwood—her brother Robert. Where one went, the other followed.
Dash it all.
If Robert caught her, there would be hell to pay. He might understand her thirst for knowledge, but he’d not condone her being here, nor that she had come alone.
“That’s Lord Flagstaff, and let me tell you, he has no problem standing to attention.” The Cyprian glanced at her four companions. “I’m sure the two of them can keep us well pleasured tonight.” At the murmured assent, she added, “Are we all in agreement? We five shall entertain these two fine gentlemen.”
“Let’s have ourselves a private party,” tittered another. “I would die to be either of these gentlemen’s mistress.”
Portia’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. How on earth … five with two? She had so much to learn. She’d come tonight purely as a voyeur; however, she had no intention of watching her brother make love to a woman, and there was no way she could watch Grayson with another woman. Her mother did say curiosity often led down a path one did not wish to follow.
It was all Rose’s fault. Her best friend had just taken her first lover, having been widowed two years ago. Rose positively glowed, and Portia wanted to learn more about the act that gave so much pleasure, especially since she’d not be indulging in the biblical sense anytime soon. She had no experience in carnal matters, yet she didn’t wish to die a virgin. She wanted to learn the secrets of conducting an affair. As she had no intention of marrying any man except Lord Blackwood, she could see herself ending up an old spinster, leaving at least one item unfulfilled on the list of things she wanted to experience before she died.
Several years ago, after recovering from her lung fever, she’d written a list of the things she wanted to have intimate knowledge of in this life. Making love and experiencing passion were on her list. Oh, she was not in any hurry to engage in a carnal affair, but she wanted to learn how to conduct one; she wished to be prepared should she decide the time was right. Who knows, she might even learn how to attract Grayson’s interest.
When she set her sights on something, she always followed through. Where better to watch and learn about sexual congress than at a Cyprians’ Ball? She just hadn’t counted on Lord Blackwood, or her brother, attending; she had been advised that the pair were otherwise engaged.
“It looks as though we’re in luck, ladies. He’s staring at us quite determinedly.”
Please don’t let him recognize me
. If she did not want to be seen, why then did her blood fire with excitement merely because she was in the same room as the legendary rake?
Tonight, he outshone every other man. He presented an enticing image of true masculinity, his striking features on display despite the event being a masquerade ball, for he wore no mask. His fair hair curled thick and glossy about his ruggedly handsome face, copper highlights glinting in the chandelier’s light. His black domino cloaklike garment, edged in gold, hugged his large frame as if it too wanted to touch every part of him.
She wasn’t the only woman tracking his movements through the crowd. His presence became the focus of a bevy of beauties all eager to attract his interest and purse. Some women did not even care about the money he could provide, for they were interested more in pleasure.
She reached up and straightened her turban, shoving a lock of her distinctive red hair back under it. Her face was completely concealed by a mask; although annoying to wear in the heat of the ballroom, it was a necessity for her under the circumstances.
A wicked thought flashed through her head. What would she do if Lord Blackwood were to find her charms appealing? Just then, from across the room, his gaze clashed with hers and flared with obvious interest. Or perhaps it was the whole group of women who caught his eye. There were many here far more beautiful than she.