The Duke’s Privateer
(Devilish Dukes, Book 3)
When it comes to
women, the Duke of Danby is an audacious rake… but when it comes to ridding the
kingdom of smugglers, he’s leading the charge. The Prince Regent has bankrupted
the country more than once, and Danby isn’t about to go down with a sinking
The Honorable Eleanor Kent hides behind the image of a self-proclaimed spinster… though in truth she’s one of England’s most sought-after privateers.
When their paths cross at a royal dinner… Danby suspects the stunning redheaded woman is more than she seems. He engages her to consult on a chinoiserie remodel and Eleanor gladly accepts. Indeed, she’d rather keep her enemy close where she can watch his every move. Though neither duke nor lady has a clue of how tangled the web they’re spinning will become. As the heat ratchets up, so does their unbidden attraction. Will they get burned before it’s too late to run?
Read the Devilish Dukes Series in Order
Book 1 ~ The Duke’s Fallen Angel
Book 2 ~ The Duke’s Untamed Desire
Book 3 ~ The Duke’s Privateer
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Excerpt from THE DUKE’S PRIVATEER
Sometimes the act of a man kissing a woman’s hand can mean far more than words can express!
Ready to face yet another charade, Eleanor pushed out the door with her head held high. Except her breath stopped. Her heart leapt. The Duke of Danby smiled, standing beside two of the loveliest chestnut horses she’d ever seen. Their coats glistened in the sunlight, their manes and tails brushed to full, silken sheens.
As she neared, she ran her hand along the neck of the mare already fitted with her saddle. “They’re absolutely beautiful.”
“I’m glad they pass muster.” The duke removed his beaver top hat, his grin making butterflies swarm in her stomach. Undoubtedly, Eleanor’s initial reaction of breathlessness had been caused by the sight of the horses—at least she told herself as much.
Stepping forward, Danby took her hand. “’Tis ever so good to see you again, Miss Kent. Are you well?”
She drew in another breath. This one nearly deep enough to staunch the wicked trembling of her fingers. “Unchanged since yesterday.”
He turned up her palm and kissed it, the warmth of his lips searing through her thin kid-leather gloves.
Bless it, taking deep breaths was no help at all. Now her knees were turning into boneless mollusks. No wonder the duke had gained a reputation for rakishness. The man oozed sensuality.
To add fuel to the fire, Danby didn’t straighten right away but shifted his face up slightly, until his gaze met hers. For a fleeting moment, Eleanor was rendered utterly speechless. She stood dry mouthed with her heart thumping out of rhythm. Did he have any idea what kissing the palm of a woman’s hand did to her insides? Well, as a rake he most likely did. However, Eleanor had never been greeted in such a way. In fact, she couldn’t recall a man ever kissing her palm.
Was he deliberately trying to unnerve her?
Danby’s smile grew as he stretched to his full height—at least six feet tall, making her tip up her chin as he held her gaze. He released her hand and it grew oddly cold. “You approve of my filly?” he asked as if he had no idea of the effect he’d just had.
Squaring her shoulders, Eleanor rubbed her palms together. “I expected no less. Even I read the papers. Your horses oft win at the track.”
“I’ll admit, they are my one indulgence.”
“You only have one?”
“At the moment.”
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