Thank you for visiting For Whom The Books Toll. This is my stop on Sabrina York's Defiant Virtual Tour presented by Bippity Boppity Book.
Author: Sabrina York
Series: Noble Passions # 5
Genre: Erotic Regency Historical Romance with BDSM Elements
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Release Date: July 28, 2014
Length: 175 pages
When rakish Ned falls in with the wrong crowd, his brother decides to send him to the Continent for “seasoning”. For Sophia, this just won’t do. She’s loved Ned for ages—and also longed for adventure. She runs away from her boring suitors and disguises herself as a cabin boy on the Defiant, the ship sailing Ned to Italy.
Ned knows he’s not good enough for Sophia, but once they’re on the Defiant, he can’t stop himself from touching her, tasting her, loving her. Not when a wild tempest and a band of ruthless pirates threaten them. Not when every look from her gives him such pleasure. And certainly not when she comes, warm and wild and willing, to his bed.
If they survive their voyage, Sophia’s brother might kill him, but it will have been worth every moment and every hot, sweet kiss.
Amazon: Defiant: 5 (Noble Passions)
Unique excerpt for For Whom The Books Toll only:
Stiffening her spine, she led the way to the sitting room and tugged on the bell pull. When Duncan appeared she gave the order for tea and cakes—Ned loved cakes—and asked him to inform Ewan his brother-in-law was here to see him. “Won’t you sit?” She gestured to the divan.
Ned appeared torn. His gaze flicked from the divan to her and back again. His lips worked. But then he blew out a defeated sigh and perched on the very edge, so he could escape quickly, one would assume.
Sophia glared at him.
When he noticed, which took a while as he was avoiding her eyes, he flinched.
“Am I so hideous?” She shouldn’t have asked. Lord help her, she should have held her tongue. She was bad at holding her tongue. But a roiling anger in her gut forced the words up and out.
Oh, of a certainty, she’d made a fool of herself over him during her first season. Granted, he’d led her on—and then rebuffed her—but that was all long ago. She’d learned her lesson. He should be beyond it by now as well. They were both much older and wiser.
He went pale as her question registered. “H-hideous?” His throat worked.
She leaped to her feet and paced the room. “For God’s sake, Ned. Our siblings are married. We have to see each other on occasion. Can you not, at least, be civil?”
“I am perfectly civil.”
She gored him with a glare. “Are you?”
“I most certainly am.”
Her snort rounded the room.
“What do you want from me, Sophia?” The words seemed ripped from him, torn in a bloody mass, but when she glanced at him, his face was emotionless, cold.
“A smile, now and again, would be nice.”
He fixed his teeth in a grimace.
“A real smile.”
A scratch at the door heralded Duncan with the tea tray. He looked rather absurd, that great mountain of a man—the once-criminal who now served as her brother’s butler—carrying the delicate silver tray with its shivering cups and accoutrements. He set it on the table and bowed before quitting the room. Sophia couldn’t help but notice the glare he sent to Ned—or Ned’s responding wince. She also noticed Duncan did not close the door.
What a farce.
As though Ned needed a warning to behave himself with her.
She could have the plague as far as he was concerned.
She retook her seat across from him and poured the tea, though she really should have rebelled against decorum and made him pour his own. It was a nonsensical rule that ladies had to pour. Men had fingers.
Without asking, she added his sugars and milk. Four years of preparing his tea had clued her in to his preferences. He took the cup and downed it, glancing around as though seeking reprieve.
“Honestly, Ned.” It was hopeless.
Ridiculous in fact. Ewan wanted to marry her to a prince for pity sake. Even if Ned were interested in her, he had little to recommend him but good family. His brother was a duke, but Ned was hardly in line for the title since Edward had his heir. And a spare.
Aside from that, Ned was a rebel. A rakehell. Or so her brother averred when he was in his cups. According to Ewan, Ned slept his days away and spent his nights in a wild bacchanal of women, wine and song.
Likely he had all manner of fascinating adventures.
It was hardly fair.
She shoved the plate of cakes at him and he took two.
Unfair that, as well.
As a lady on the market, she’d been advised to forego cakes as they had an unfortunate tendency to collect around her middle, and if she wanted to catch a husband—
© 2014 Sabrina York / Ellora’s Cave Publishing, LLC
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion.
An award winning author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers, her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror.