His Plan Was Seduction...
Proud and beautiful Lady Ariel D'Archer bravely bears the cruel disdain of society -- all the while wondering if her sullied reputation will prevent love from ever entering her heart again. But then she meets Nathan Trevain, whose breathtaking gaze inflames her passion and whose softest touch sets her heated blood racing. This is a man unwilling to take "no" for an answer -- nor is Ariel certain she could deny him anything. But he is also a man who harbors a dangerous secret -- one that places Ariel in grave danger once she uncovers it.
His Destiny Was Surrender
The secretive future Duke of Davenport has his own hidden reasons for wanting to help the exquisite fallen rose restore her good name -- and for taking her prisoner once she discovers his true identity. For his lovely captive holds the key to the fate of his lost brother. And it will take every ounce of Trevain's fabled seductive powers to win her help. But the closer he holds her -- the deeper he kisses her -- the more completely the lady Ariel takes possession of his soul. Will she be the one to seduce him with true love -- the sweetest, most succulent magic of all?
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Two years later
If being ruined meant she could avoid balls, Lady Ariel D'Archer much preferred to stay ruined.
"Are you sure you will be alright if I leave you alone?"
Ariel turned to her cousin Phoebe, the one and only cousin who still deigned to talk to her, and pasted a bright no-no-no-I'm-having-a-glorious-time-can't-you-tell smile upon her face as false as old Lord Hampton's teeth. "Quite, my dear. Now do go before your darling husband grows impatient and dances with someone else."
Phoebe frowned up at her, almost as if she could sense her lie. "I am sorry I made you come tonight, Arie." She looked at the people surrounding her, innocent blue eyes clouding, freckled nose wrinkling. "I did believe people had forgotten."
Forgotten the scandal that had caused Ariel's withdrawal from society two years ago? Not likely, Ariel thought. Society fed on such on dits. That she was the daughter of an earl made no difference. Ruined was ruined, as Ariel had tried to tell her naive cousin. But she hadn't been able to resist her beloved cousin's pleading tone and so had accompanied her to town. Now, as she stood at the edge of the dance floor, she wondered at the wisdom of her choice. 'Twas obvious she shouldn't have come. Thank goodness her father didn't have to witness her humiliation. Then again, if her father had been in town, he'd no doubt have forbidden her to come at all.
"If you like, I could have John bring the coach around."
"Leave?" Ariel asked, black brows lifting. "And miss all this?" She motioned to the heavily decorated room. Flowers dotted every available surface, hugevases of them; no doubt some poor gardener was lamenting the loss of his precious blooms. The scent of those petals filled the air, barely but not quite masking the smell of overheated bodies, scented gowns and the candle wax that spotted the floor and guests. "Perish the thought."
"Are you quite sure? It would be no problem for John to come back for Reggie and me."
Ariel turned to her longtime friend and shook her head. Powder from her wig poofed around her like mist from a bag of flour. Gracious, but she'd forgotten how annoying society's fashions could be. Her own silly wig itched her near to distraction, the single gray curl that rested near her neck making her long to scratch beneath it.
"I'm quite content to stand here, my dear," she answered. Next to standing on a bed of hot coals, this would be my second favorite thing to do, she silently added. "Now go. Reggie has been patient enough."
But her cousin still looked unconvinced. Ariel took matters into her own hands by spinning her around and giving her a gentle shove toward the bespectacled man waiting by the dance floor. He gave her a tight smile. Ariel returned it.
"Go," she repeated.
Phoebe went, though not without one last backward glance. Her gray wig looked askew, Ariel noted. Ah, well, the whole night felt askew.
Her cousin so wanted this night to be a success. Ariel should have known it would go differently.
She watched Phoebe go, sighing. She tried to tell herself she didn't look as conspicuous as a tick on the bum of a pig. Still, she took a small step back, the potted palm next to her affording her a bit of concealment, though not as much as she suddenly wished for. She should have stayed in the country. Truly, after the first few months of her exile she hadn't missed society one iota. Who would miss pasting black patches upon one's skin? Or drafty hooped skirts? Or so much powder in one's hair, one looked like a giant breast of chicken just as it was shoved into the baking oven? No. No. She'd not missed it. Not at all.
But it was hard to ignore the scandalized looks frequently shot her way. Still, somehow she managed to maintain the indifferent mask she'd practiced in the mirror. It wasn't fair. 'Twas not as if it was she who had been at fault. She had not been the lying cad, the one who'd tried to seduce an innocent girl. And yet society did not care. They knew only that she'd been found in a compromising position with a man who was not her husband. That Ariel had believed with every innocent beat of her heart that Archie would, indeed, come up to scratch mattered not at all. He hadn't loved her. Hadn't even wanted to marry her afterward.
Fie on them all.
"For someone so fair you look remarkably blue-deviled, my lady."
Ariel started, turning toward the baritone voice. For a moment she found herself gawking, then that practice session in the mirror came to her rescue. She straightened. Truly, he was the most sinister-looking man she'd ever seen, yet handsome -- fan-yourseff-with-your-hand handsome. He had a scar across his cheek that ended near the comer of his left eye. He looked like a panther who'd been in one too many fights. Dressed all in black he was: black coat, black breeches, even a black diamond winking from his black cravat.
She blinked, telling herself to stare was rude.
Yes, but what a sight to stare at.
"Which really is a pity," he continued, his silver eyes glowing. Those eyes were remarkable, truly his best feature, a myriad colors all coalescing into one. "For such a pretty face should never have a frown upon it."
And Ariel went back to staring, for when he smiled, the scar drew tight across his face. The sight fascinated her, although she supposed some women would have swooned at the sight he made. He wore no wig.Enchanted By Your Kisses. Copyright © by Pamela Britton. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Set in England, 1781. A great story!!!! Has your attention thru out. In my opinion not enough love/passionate scenes, but still good. Of course, has a very happily ever after ending.
Britton Harper, Mar 2001, $5.99, 384 pp. ISBN: 0061014303 In 1781 England, Lady Ariel D¿Archer believes she loves her Archie, who has confessed a hundred times over that he loves her too. Caught in bed together by her father, Ariel¿s lover Lord Archibald Worth proves he will not love her tomorrow by admitting he will marry Lady Mary Carew in a month. Rumors about Archie ruining Ariel spread throughout the Ton, leaving her a pariah among family and friends. Her father refuses to speak to her ever again. Two years later, Nathan Trevain seeks information about his missing brother. He feels Ariel can be of help, but decides to hide his identity as the heir to the Dukedom of Davenport. Soon Ariel ignores her vow never to give away her heart as she falls in love, but wonders if she is his lasting treasure or a moment¿s pleasure and, by the way, where is his sibling? ENCHANTED BY YOUR KISSES is an action-packed Georgian romance that never slows down until the tale is finished. The story line moves forward due to the antics of the lead couple. Ariel will gain reader empathy as she suffers the wrath of the hypocritical aristocracy for her one indiscretion while her lover receives pats on the back for scoring. Nathan knows his skills and willingly uses them, but in Ariel he meets his toughest adversary, love. In just a few years, Pamela Britton has written novels like this one and MY FALLEN ANGEL that excites sub-genre fans with their originality and powerful cast. Harriet Klausner