Scandalously Yours (Hellions of High Street 1)

He froze. The distant laughter, the faint trilling of the violins, the rustling leaves all gave way to a strange thrumming sound in his ears.

Anna shifted and Devlin shook off the sensation. It must be the brandy, he decided. He had just come from his club, where he had been sampling a potent vintage brought up from the wine cellar. Women had no such effect on him.

A kiss was a distraction, nothing more. A way to keep boredom at bay.

“Go to Hell.” Anna’s whisper teased against his mouth as she jerked back.

“Eventually,” growled Devlin. “But first…” He kissed her again. A harder, deeper, possessive embrace.

Her lips tremored uncertainly.

Seizing the moment, he slipped his tongue through the tiny gap and tasted a beguiling mix of warmth and spice. Impossible to describe.

He needed to taste more.

More.

Clasping his arms around her waist, Devlin pushed her back a little roughly, pinning her body to the unyielding stone. She tensed and twisted…

I am Satan’s spawn.

…and then went still.

Time seemed to stop, hang suspended within the shifting shadows of the fluttering leaves. A myriad sensations seemed to skate over his skin. Fire. Ice. The slow softening of her resistance.

Anna made another sound. No words, just a soft feline purr that drifted off into the darkness. She moved, tilting forward in a tentative tasting of her own. Entwined, they swayed, weightless in the cool caress of the night.

Somewhere close by, a door opened and shut.

The echo broke the strange spell. With a shudder, Anna wrenched free of his hold, a gasp fluttering through her gloved fingertips as she touched her lips.

Disgust? Disbelief?

Devlin blinked, not quite certain of his own feelings.

For a fleeting moment it looked as though she was going to speak, but instead, she shoved him aside and walked off without a word.

Walked with her head held high, her spine ramrod straight, he noted, rather than pelter off in a torrent of tears and sobs.

Hard and soft—no question Anna Sloane was a contradiction.

Which made her a conundrum.

But Devlin like

d puzzles. They kept his own inner demons at bay.

Get swept away to Regency London with these other titles from Cara Elliott.

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