Let's have Alina tell us more....
While he's haunting Miss Fenwick, she's haunting him.
Thrilled to finally have a permanent home, a Squire’s daughter won’t let a supernatural creature scare her away. While hunting the ghost she doesn’t believe in, she stumbles upon a mysterious flesh and blood man who might be the key to all of her problems.
When the new Squire moves into Fenwick Manor, an ex-army officer secretly searching the sprawling medieval wreck devises a plan. First, the manor’s legendary ghost will chase servants away. Then, he’ll convince the new residents to leave.
But the Squire’s spirited daughter soon has him wondering if he might have found a perfect comrade in arms to help battle old enemies and find the proof that will clear his family name.
“I would never hurt you or Sir Newton.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it.
Her answering tremble passed through her arm and into him.
Outside, the lightning and thunder had died, but the rain slapped the window sharply. Like as not it had had turned to sleet.
He slipped the edge of the blanket over her shoulder and pulled her closer. “You’re cold as well.”
She angled her head and studied him. “Is there truly treasure here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
Never confess. Money would be sweet, but it wasn’t what he was looking for.
“You would steal it from us?”
It wasn’t stealing. If he found money, he would merely be taking back from Sir Richard what was owed, what was needed to save his brother’s life.
Digging deep, steeling himself, he gave her the look he’d honed as a young officer, a look he’d used on his most ill-disciplined men, the one he could hold observing a lashing…and for the worst cases, a hanging.
She glared back at him, as fiercely defiant as the worst denizens of the rookeries.
He shook his head and sighed.
“Does anything frighten you?” His hand slipped lower, down her arm and under it, over a slim waist to a generous curve that made his breath—and other parts of him—stir.
“Mr. Greggson’s attempt on my person was alarming. I thank you for saving me.” A shudder went through her. “Would he have attempted more than a kiss, do you think?”
His fingers moved of their own will, softly stroking. “He’s not a man you should be alone with.”
“Yes, I do know that. You and my father have both said so. But what about you, Freddy? Ought I to be alone with you?”
He’d never forced a woman, not ever. Not even after the madness of battle had he succumbed to that primitive drive. He’d done his duty to restore order within his men as well.
He’d understood their mad impulses though.
“I am a gentleman, Tilly.”
She stirred. “Papa…has not been feeling well, I think. I was ever so happy to see him out in the fresh air, but I’ve worried so about him. Mr. Greggson doesn’t know that, but he does know I’m my father’s only child. He seeks to coerce me into marriage because he’s after the estate and its income, and whatever valuables may be found here, which when Papa dies, he believes will be mine.” She let out a minty breath. “But you, Captain Sanderford, you I believe would prefer just money and not my person along with it.”
“And so, it would probably be wise for you to unhand me.”
His hand tightened, bunching the cloth of her robe. “Unhand you?”
She tilted her head and gazed at him, almost an equal in height now that they were sitting. Her lips had parted a fraction and locks of hair draped the deep blue of eyes that glistened in the light from the candles.
“Oh, Tilly.” He dipped his head and touched his lips to hers.
Softness. The scents of mint and soap and lilac.
His chest pounded and every nerve in his body roared. She hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t pushed, hadn’t slapped him.
Proceed with caution, he reminded himself. He pressed closer and slanted his lips, coaxing until her mouth opened.
His hand strayed up, under her breast, and he drew her against him.
What, besides parchment, was under the high-necked gowns and the heavy robe?
Award winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but she prefers the much happier world of romance. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband and her spunky, blonde, rescued terrier.
She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances, but loves to hear from readers!
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