Lord Haddon is handsome, charming and at least a decade younger than the thrice-widowed Marissa. Engaging in an affair with Haddon might damage Marissaβs reputation and it will definitely compromise her heart. But Haddon can be very persuasive when he wants something and he wants Marissa. Will Marissa give into temptation and allow herself to love again? If you like steamy, historical romance youβll love Wicked Again.
*****
Wicked Again
The Wickeds, Book 7
by Kathleen Ayers
Blurb:
A scandalous affair with a much younger manβ¦
Lady Marissa Cupps-Foster has buried three husbands. Only one, her dear Reggie, was a love match. As a woman considered past her prime with two grown sons, sheβs decided on discreet trysts when she feels the need for male companionship. Lord Trenton Haddon was only a dalliance. Haddon is tempting but far too young for her. And love is out of the question. Clearly, she isnβt good at it. Determined to forget Haddon, Marissa returns to London and immerses herself in society.
A former rake who has never been in loveβ¦
Seducing the widowed Lady Cupps-Foster was a way to pass the time at a dull house party but instead Haddon fell in love. Unfortunately, the object of his affection ended the affair and returned to London before he could declare himself. But Haddon has the perfect excuse to see Marissa again. His eldest daughter is about to make her debut and as a widower, he is in dire need of direction. Marissa wonβt refuse his plea for help.
Another chance at loveβ¦
Haddon can be very persuasive when he wants something, and he wants Marissa. But Marissa is just as convinced heβll eventually break her heart.
Will Marissa allow herself to find love again or will she stand by and watch Haddon marry someone else?
Wicked Again is a steamy historical romance set in post-regency London where scandal meets happily ever after. Book 7 of the Wickeds.
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*****
Excerpt:
Despite wanting to forget him, the memory of Haddon never left Marissa, no matter how busy she had kept herself since her return to town. The destruction of Simon and his mother did take up a great deal of her time. And of course, she had holiday festivities to plan. Haddon shouldnβt have entered her thoughts at all.
βLady Cupps-Foster.β The light, spicy scent Haddon favored hovered about his broad shoulders as he bowed before her.
Marissa inhaled sharply, filling her nostrils. Haddonβs scent had stayed with her, lingering along with her memories of him and the night sheβd spent in his arms.
He took her hand, eyes flitting across her bosom as he straightened, a soft purr of male appreciation coming from his chest. The brush of his lips against her knuckles sent a tendril of warmth from her core to slide between her legs. But the touch of his tongue made her knees buckle.
Marissa abruptly snatched her hand from his.
A mischievous grin crossed his lips, meant to disarm her and indeed any lady he bestowed it upon. It made him quite irresistible.
An image of Haddon walking toward her, naked, the same grin firmly in place on his lips, flitted before her eyes.
The ballroom had grown very warm. She resisted the urge to fan herself.
Realistically, for any woman her age, there was always bound to be someone in the room she had been involved with. Two of Marissaβs previous lovers were at the Cambourne ball tonight, in fact, though she couldnβt for the life of her remember how they looked naked, nor, upon greeting them tonight, had she felt as if her heart might burst from her chest.
βLord Haddon, how lovely to see you again.β
βIsnβt it though?β His grin widened further. βDance with me?β he said as the musicians began to play. Without waiting for an answer, Haddon took her hand in his and led her out to the dance floor, his grip on her fingers tight as the sapphire skirts of her gown wrapped around them both.
Marissa had always found the sensation of silk hugging her to a gentleman as they danced to be mildly erotic, though much more so with Haddon than, say, Enderly.
Haddon was a graceful dancer, confident and agile. Turning her expertly, he brought Marissa closer to the lean lines of his body with each twist of his hips. They moved easily together, as if theyβd danced many times in each otherβs arms.
In truth, they had only danced once before.
The warmth of his palm splayed intimately across the small of her back, fingertips pressing into the skin at the base of her spine.
The pressure was seductive. Enticing. Haddon had kissed that very spot during their night together, as well as a great many other places.
She saw Adelia out of the corner of her eye watching them with a smug look.
βHow have you been, Marissa?β The husky growl of her first name sent bits of flame across her arms. βEnjoying London?β
βIβm quite well, thank you. I didnβt realize youβd come to town.β The tips of her breasts chafed against the fabric of his coat, stroking her nipples each time he turned her; it was distracting, to say the least.
A tiny smirk crossed his beautiful mouth. He knew she was lying.
βI donβt come as often as I did before my wife died. My daughters require my attention, as does my estate. London does not.β
Haddon had been married very young in a match arranged by his father. His wife had been sickly and bed-ridden during the latter part of his marriage, the birth of his youngest daughter destroying what remained of her fragile health.
In between bouts of lovemaking, theyβd whispered to each other in the dark and Haddon had told Marissa of his marriage.
Another thing she hadnβt done with a previous lover.
Dalliance.
He had left out his former rakish reputation, and well he might. Though discreet, Haddon certainly had cut a swath through the ladies of London. But unlike most husbands who wouldnβt have cared to be saddled with an ill spouse, heβd been with his wife when she died, at her bedside. After, he had not returned to London to pick up the threads of his life; instead, heβd stayed away from town, choosing to remain with his daughters in the country. Another thing most gentlemen would not have done.
βI brought Jordana to London with me.β He mentioned his eldest daughter, to whom Marissa had been introduced to at Brushbriar.
βAnd how does Jordana like town?β Marissa found it hard to have a casual conversation with Haddon, especially when his hips kept brushing hers.
βAs well as can be expected. But I thought she might enjoy some time here before making her debut. Ease her into things, so to speak. Jordana has a tendency to be stubborn.β
Haddon twirled her, the motion forcing her more fully against his chest. The distance between them was only one tiny, heated inch.
βYou left before I could tell you goodbye,β he said, breath warm against her temple.
βDid I need to tell you goodbye?β Her own guilt at not doing so made her reply sharper than she intended.
His grip on her tightened. βI suppose not.β
βAfter the discovery of my late husbandβs remains, I was in shock, as you can imagine.β That was putting it mildly.
βIβm sure you were.β
βI wasnβt up to receiving callers, nor did I wish to receive polite condolences,β she said.
βOf course,β he agreed coolly.
Marissa bristled. Something about his calm manner, his instant agreement with her, smacked of judgement. It was clear by his attitude Haddon thought she should have received him. Sent him a note. Told him goodbye. She didnβt care for him acting the discarded lover.
Dalliance.
His grip on her tightened. βI suppose not.β
βAfter the discovery of my late husbandβs remains, I was in shock, as you can imagine.β That was putting it mildly.
βIβm sure you were.β
βI wasnβt up to receiving callers, nor did I wish to receive polite condolences,β she said.
βOf course,β he agreed coolly.
Marissa bristled. Something about his calm manner, his instant agreement with her, smacked of judgement. It was clear by his attitude Haddon thought she should have received him. Sent him a note. Told him goodbye. She didnβt care for him acting the discarded lover.
Dalliance.
βOurs was a brief acquaintance, Lord Haddon,β Marissa said politely, allowing a hint of chill to enter her words. βLittle more than a dalliance, if youβll forgive me for saying so.β
He looked down on her, eyes like quicksilver. A touch of pink shone on his magnificent cheekbones, a sign of his annoyance, perhaps, though it could have been a trick of the light. βA dalliance?β
βA tryst, if you prefer.β
βA tryst?β
Would he repeat everything she said? βOur relationship would have invited speculation and unwanted attention, both things I donβt care for. An older widow carrying on withββ
βDear God, Marissa.β He looked away from her, the corner of his lip lifting into something resembling amusement. βYou didnβt seduce some innocent young lad; stop behaving as if you did.β
βI didnβt do any seducing,β she shot back.
βDebatable. I was under the impression we seduced each other, not out of boredom, as Iβm sure will be your next point, but because we were meant to.β His broad shoulders gave a soft roll.
Marissa stayed silent, uncertain how to respond.
βYou know, I never really considered your elderly status at the time, but you brought it up so often during our brief acquaintance, perhaps your concerns have merit.β
βThey do?β
βYouβre a highly intelligent woman. Older and wiser than I. Shouldnβt I listen to your council?β
The heat of him bled through the thick silk and layers of petticoats, caressing her skin as they danced. Each time he spun her, Haddon managed to notch the length of one muscled leg into her skirts and between her legs. Deliberately.
βStop doing that,β she hissed beneath her breath. A slow, honeyed ache followed the movement, driving her mad. βDo you intend to cause a scene?β
βWhat? This?β He pulled her a fraction of an inch closer and moved his thigh into her skirts again, sliding his leg in a sinuous motion. βIβm merely dancing.β
A flutter of arousal slid down the length of her body at Haddonβs very calculated teasing though Marissa was doing her best to ignore the sensation. Desperate to provide a distraction, she said, βI see youβve made the acquaintance of Lady Christina Sykes.β
βAn incomparable beauty with an impeccable lineage,β Haddon acknowledged. βA gentleman could do worse than to wed her. Sheβs a lovely girl.β
βSheβs very young.β Marissa said, hating the prick of jealousy at the thought of Haddon dancing with Lady Christina the way he danced with her.
βYou donβt sound as if you approve. Shouldnβt I seek someone closer to my own age? Iβm barely out of the schoolroom, after all.β The mischievous grin, the one she found so endlessly endearing, floated across his mouth.
Marissa forced herself to smile up at him. βIβm sure my approval is of no consequence. Iβm only concerned.β
βHow very maternal of you, Marissa.β
She deliberately stepped on his toe.
Haddon grunted in pain.
βLady Christina is barely older than Jordana,β she said. βBut it is none of my affair who you deem a suitable bride. If your aim is to find a wife, Christina Sykes would serve as well as any.β She forced the words up her throat though they left a bitter taste.
Spinning her about, he gave her a wolfish grin before murmuring, βThe lady doth protest too much.β
Her heel ground into the top of his foot. βPardon me. I seem to have two left feet this evening. Goodness.β
Haddonβs fingertips dug into the silk at her hip. βIβm only acknowledging the vast difference in our ages. One youβve brought to my attention repeatedly during our previous dalliance. Are you old enough to be my mother?β He pretended to consider the question. βGood lord, how depraved I am.β
Marissa was going to slap him, right here in the middle of a dance with most of the ton watching. βWhile there is an age difference, my lord, I assure youββ
βAnd in regard to Christina,β he interrupted her tirade, βyou also suggested during our dalliance that I need to remarry. Truthfully, I hadnβt considered wedding again until you brought it to my attention. Again, Iβm thankful for your guidance.β
She bit her lip, knowing she couldnβt refute his claim. Haddon was correct on all counts. She had been the one to bring up his need to remarry and produce a male heir. At that moment, Marissa could have cheerfully kicked herself for reminding him of his duty.
βIβve something I wish to discuss with you, my lady.β
βOh?β There was a slight, hopeful leap of her traitorous heart before remembering it would be best if she didnβt allow him to seduce her again. Haddon was far too dangerous. They could remain acquaintances and nothing more.
βMay I call upon you? I would prefer not to have a private discussion here.β
βYes, of course,β she agreed, ignoring the slight racing of her pulse.
The dance ended, and Haddon led her off the dance floor, a wisp of a smile hovering on his lips. But instead of leaving her where sheβd stood with Adelia, Haddon purposefully took her to the opposite side of the ballroom; an area populated with elderly matrons, wallflowers and spinsters.
A strangled sound bubbled from her lips.
βSomething wrong, my lady? Didnβt you enjoy our dance?β
βI did. Immensely.β If she wasnβt sure it would cause a scene, Marissa would wrench her fingers from his.
Once he seemed satisfied Marissa stood with the most undesirable women in the room, Haddon bowed again over her hand, hiding his enjoyment at her discomfort behind a polite, bland smile.
βEnjoy the rest of your evening, Lady Cupps-Foster.β Haddon turned and, without another glance at Marissa, sauntered back across the ballroom.
Copyright 2020 @Kathleen Ayers
*****
Author Info:
Kathleen Ayers is the bestselling author of steamy Regency and Victorian romance. Sheβs been a hopeful romantic and romance reader since buying Sweet Savage Love at a garage sale when she was fourteen while her mother was busy looking at antique animal planters. She has a weakness for tortured, witty alpha males who canβt help falling for intelligent, sassy heroines.
A Texas transplant (from Pennsylvania) Kathleen spends most of her summers attempting to grow tomatoes (a wasted effort) and floating in her backyard pool with her two dogs, husband and son. When not writing she likes to visit her βhappy placeβ (Newport, RI.), visit wine bars, make homemade pizza on the grill, and perfect her charcuterie board skills.
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