Authors: Nicole Jordan
“That isn’t good enough, love. Promise me you will seek Max out after I leave. Otherwise I will have to delay long enough to do it myself.”
“Very well…I promise.”
“No doubt he will be pleased to see you. He was just asking about you earlier tonight.”
She gave Thorne a startled glance. “He was?”
“Yes. You evidently made quite an impression on him during his brief visit to the island last year. Now go find my aunt. I will return as soon as possible.”
As Thorne strode away, Caro stared dazedly after him, wanting to curse. The last person she wanted to see was Maxwell Leighton, but it didn’t seem now as if she would have much choice.
Caro returned to the ballroom with grave reluctance. She wasn’t a coward—ordinarily. But the thought of encountering Max Leighton again was unnerving.
It astonished her that he had asked after her.
You evidently made quite an impression on him.
Heat rose to her cheeks. She could only imagine what he thought of her behavior that night. Acting like a perfect wanton. Pleading with him to make love to her. Practically seducing him. Even now her face burned at the memory. Even now the memory of his touch filled her with a sweet, aching longing.
Did he have the same remembrances of their night of passion? After all the women he had likely been with, Caro doubted it had meant anything special to him.
She certainly would never forget it, though. That magical night had shown her so clearly what she was missing in her life. And Max’s wonderful lovemaking had only increased her yearnings….
It had been a profound mistake to surrender to her wanton urges, but still she cherished the memory. So much so that she didn’t want them spoiled by cold reality, or the disappointment of encountering him in the light of day. She had read numerous newspaper accounts of Max Leighton over the past few months—the titillating gossip about his amorous affairs and the predictions regarding the race to secure his hand in marriage.
Lamentably, however, she saw him the moment she entered the ballroom. The crowd had parted slightly, revealing his tall, commanding form a short distance away. Rather than a uniform, he wore an exquisitely tailored blue coat that molded his muscular shoulders to perfection.
He was surrounded by a half dozen beauties, as she expected. Determinedly she tried to repress the hollowness in her chest. After the terrible conflict with Napoleon had ended, she had often wondered if Max was still the wounded warrior, or if he had somehow managed to heal. He did
not
look as if he was suffering now.
Just then he turned and met her gaze across the ballroom. Her heart seemed to stop completely. He was still the same unforgettable man she saw so frequently in her dreams. Those were the same striking features. The same compelling blue eyes fringed by dark lashes. He still possessed the same powerful, potent masculinity.
She could feel herself flushing with warmth as his glance hotly connected with hers.
For now, however, she needed to find Thorne’s aunt.
Dragging her gaze away with effort, she spied Lady Hennessy along one wall, sitting with the other dowagers. Grateful for the distraction, Caro threaded her way through the crowds.
The portly, silver-haired lady looked up with surprise, her expression first breaking into a smile of delight, then fading to one of concern. “My dear girl, whatever are you doing here? Sir Gawain? Is something amiss?”
Caro bent to kiss the soft cheek that was presented to her. “Sir Gawain is well, my lady. But I fear I have some other regretful news—as well as a request regarding your nephew. May I have a private word with you?”
“You seem to be taking an extraordinary interest in Miss Evers, Mr. Leighton,” a plaintive female voice murmured. “Surely you realize that she is merely trying to draw attention to herself.”
Forcing his attention back to his companions, Max raised an eyebrow. “You think she is here merely to create a scene?”
A half dozen ladies responded, all eager to regale him with tales of Caro Evers, it seemed.
“My coming-out was the same year,” one remarked.
“I remember her as a shy, awkward creature. No social skills to speak of.”
“She could not even dance.”
“But it was the scandal she caused that was the final straw.”
The trills of laughter became a chorus as they all seemed to share a common memory.
“What sort of scandal?” Max asked curiously.
“Miss Evers dressed up as a man to attend medical lectures.”
“She was caught studying naked bodies!”
Several of the ladies shuddered. The tall blonde who had hunted Max earlier added with malicious glee, “And for that, she was banished from the ton in disgrace.”
His brows narrowing, Max fixed the lady with a cool frown.
“Do you know her, Mr. Leighton?”
Smiling faintly, he came to Caro’s defense. “I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Miss Evers last year when she saved the life of one of my lieutenants. In fact, I consider her to be one of the most remarkable women of my acquaintance.”
His response put an abrupt pall over the conversation. “Now if you ladies will please excuse me,” he added wickedly, “I must go pay my compliments to Miss Evers.”
Ignoring the looks of dismay on their faces, as well as the blonde widow’s indignation, Max turned sharply and made his way across the ballroom toward where Caro Evers was deep in conversation with Lady Hennessy.
It was obvious that some urgent business had brought her to London, and he was highly curious to know what it was. He was even more interested to see if any remnant of the fire that had once blazed between them still existed.
He kept his gaze fixed on her, and was gratified to see how she froze when she looked up and saw him.
Her gray eyes were as large and lustrous as he remembered, like silver smoke, while her features had the stamp of character and intelligence. Not stunningly beautiful perhaps, but with an inviting appeal all the same.
Max bowed to his hostess, Lady Hennessy, but it was Caro he addressed. “Good evening, Miss Evers. I wasn’t certain I would ever have the good fortune of meeting you again.”
She frowned, as if searching her memory. “Do I know you, sir? Oh, yes…Major Leighton, is it not?”
Max feigned a wince. “You wound me, Miss Evers, if you cannot even recall my name.”
She pursed her lips. “Oh, I recall it quite well, Mr. Leighton. How could I not, when the gossip columns are full of your amorous adventures?”
With deliberate gallantry he took Caro’s hand and bent over it, pressing his lips against her gloved fingers, interested to see how she responded.
Not only did she give a start, but when her eyes locked with his, something warm and primitive arced between them. Her gaze flickered lower then, over his mouth, and Max knew for certain that Caro Evers had not forgotten him.
A sharp surge of male satisfaction rippled through him, even though she withdrew her hand coolly.
“Actually I was on my way to find you,” she said. “Thorne asked me to convey his apologies to you. He was called away on sudden business. He regretted”—she glanced pointedly toward the gathering of ladies Max had just abandoned—“having to leave you to the tender mercies of your gaggle of admirers.”
She rose then, speaking directly to Max. “I hope you won’t mind if I excuse myself, Mr. Leighton. I have had a long journey, and I have another long one ahead of me tomorrow.”
She bent and kissed Lady Hennessy’s cheek. “Thank you, my lady. Thorne will be glad that you have released him from his promise.”
The dowager shook her head with mock sternness. “You can’t fool me, my girl. I can see right through him. He wasn’t brave enough to face me, and so he coerced you into pleading his case.”
Caro smiled. “True, but you must admit, you are quite formidable when you get in a high dudgeon.”
She turned to Max, her gaze flickering over him before she nodded toward the cluster of ladies who were still watching him. “Perhaps you should return to your devotees. It is obvious they anxiously await you. Good night, Mr. Leighton.”
Max remained where he stood, staring after her. He had just been dismissed, he realized.
It was a novel experience for him, and one that should have piqued his indignation. But it had the opposite effect—arousing the primitive male urge to chase fleeing prey.
Watching him, Lady Hennessy let out a deep chuckle. “Perhaps you have already discovered that Caro is not like any other normal young lady.”
“Indeed,” Max said wryly.
“She despises balls and all the other trappings of society. I doubt she will come down again this evening.” Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “But she is staying upstairs in her former bedroom. If you wish to speak to her, you will have to go after her.”
Max curved his mouth in an amused, calculating line of his own. “Thank you, my lady. I have every intention of doing just that.”
A Conversation
with Nicole Jordan
Q:
Master of Temptation
is the first in a new Regency historical series called Paradise. How will this new series differ from the books in the Notorious series? And does this mean that you are finished with the Notorious books?
Nicole Jordan:
My new Paradise series is set partly on a wonderful Mediterranean island and features a secret society of protectors, a bit like The Three Musketeers, only much sexier. I’ll still be writing about dangerous rakes and bold adventurers (and the women who win their hearts!), but for now I’m moving on to a setting with a more delicious scope for imagination and romance. I want to offer avid romance readers something a little fresh and different to pique their interest. And while my island has its own little Beau Monde, this new locale gives me opportunities for intriguing plots during the Regency era that can’t usually be found in a strict English/London social sphere.
As for my Notorious series,
The Prince of Pleasure,
about Dare North, Marquess of Wolverton, is Notorious Book 5 and the final one for now. But I expect someday I’ll return to wrap up a few fascinating heroes who caught my attention when I was writing earlier books.
Q:
Why Paradise? What does the series title signify?
NJ:
My new series is called Paradise because of the enchanting island I’ve created. With its azure seas and sun-splashed slopes, the Isle of Cyrene is a haven of beauty that seems to have an uncanny ability to seduce the senses. According to Greek mythology, Cyrene was a water nymph and princess who relished the hunt and enjoyed wrestling lions. When Apollo saw her, he instantly fell in love, but just as quickly, she spurned him. I merely took the legend one step further—and to a happier ending. Apollo cast a spell over a secluded isle to create a lovers’ paradise and kept Cyrene captive there until she came to love him in return. Thus my Isle of Cyrene.
Q:
Who are the Guardians of the Sword? Will they appear in each book of the new series? Is there going to be a magical component to their trust and their mission?
NJ:
By design, there won’t be anything magical or paranormal about my Paradise series, but I’ve drawn from Arthurian legend to create my island’s history. Many centuries ago a group of outcasts (King Arthur’s defeated knights) settled the island and started an order devoted to an epic mission—fighting evil and tyranny across Europe. The order nearly died out during the Dark Ages, but in the past century, their noble purpose was revived to meet the grave challenges spawned by the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. The Guardians of the Sword are bound by honor to champion justice and defend right with might.
And yes, The Guardians of the Sword do appear in every book of my new Paradise series. Each Paradise book will be about a specific Guardian—about their challenges and adventures and, most important, their loves.
Q:
Tell us about your heroine, Caro Evers. Despite her many accomplishments, and her beauty, she has a hard time accepting that a man like Max could be genuinely interested in her.
NJ:
Caro Evers is the unconventional daughter of one of Cyrene’s ruling families, and one of the few female members of the Guardians. Caro is both a healer and a warrior. For years she’s defied propriety by trying to study medicine in a time when genteel women weren’t allowed even to nurse men other than their immediate family members. Expected to take her father’s place in the order, Caro was raised more like a son than a daughter, and so she sees herself as lacking the feminine appeal that would attract most gentlemen. She’s had no room in her life for marriage or suitors…or love, either. That is, until Max Leighton unexpectedly comes to her golden Mediterranean island.
Q:
Speaking of whom, Max is a veteran of the Peninsula Wars; I suppose in modern parlance, he would be considered to be suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.
NJ:
Exactly! That’s a contemporary term, so I can’t use it in my story, but Max suffers the same psychological battle scars. After eight years of fighting Napoleon’s armies as a British cavalry officer, he’s sentenced himself to emotional exile.