Margaret McPhee

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Untouched Mistress

To be released together wtih The Wicked Earl in Wicked in the Regency Ballroom


“ ‘
My lord, please be so kind as to release my hand immediately,’ said Helena with the utmost of politeness.

The Viscount did not oblige. Instead he ran both thumbs fully down the full length of either side of her forefinger, moving then to do the same to each adjacent finger in turn. Skin slid against skin in a slow sensual slide until Helena’s hand burned beneath his touch. A flame sparked low and deep in her belly and the breath shook in her throat.

‘My lord, I must protest!’

Lord Varington raised his gaze to hers and in his eyes seemed to burn a pale blue fire of passion. Helena had never seen such a look in any man’s eyes.

He raised her hand until it was just short of his mouth, and then slowly, carefully, never taking his eyes from hers, he touched his lips to the centre of her palm. It was as if he had touched the very core of her being. A spontaneous gasp escaped her and she found she could not take her eyes from his, could not move, could barely breathe.

‘You are beautiful,’ he said, and she could feel the tickle of his lips against her skin with every word. ‘Beautiful,’ he said again, and lowered her hand back down to cradle it within his own.

She sat as if mesmerised, watching his head bending towards hers until he was so close that she could see the dark eyelashes that framed his magnificent eyes, could examine every detail of his face: the pallor of his skin, the way that his eyebrows were smooth and dark, the strong line of his jaw that led down to the cleft in the square of his chin.
A lock of hair dangled dangerously close to his eye so that she longed to just reach across and smooth it away. But she could not, for Helena knew that he was going to kiss her and, despite the knowledge, she did nothing.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion. He filled her vision. His cologne filled her nostrils. Her lips parted as if of their own will. She seemed drugged, powerless to stop the move of his mouth towards hers.


Wicked in the Regency Ballroom

‘Helena,’ he whispered, and her name rolled off his tongue as if it had been made to do so. There was a richness to his voice, a sensual ripeness.

She felt her eyelids flutter shut. Tilted her mouth to accept his.

The carriage swerved suddenly to the side, throwing Lord Varington off balance and bringing Helena to her senses in an instant.”

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