Sarah’s Surrender
Bound and Determined # 2.5
Bound and Determined # 2.5
By: Lavinia Kent
Releasing September 22, 2015
Loveswept
In Lavinia Kent’s scorching new eBook original
novella, two wounded hearts find that only the sweet release of temptations
long denied can heal the pain of past sins.
Five years ago, Miss Sarah
Swilp had been deeply in love with Jonathan Perry, the second son of an earl.
But when Jonathan inherited his aunt’s lands and money, he turned cold,
demanding Sarah’s maidenhood and uttering those unforgettably cruel words: “You
do know I won’t marry you.” She refused, of course, and that spoiled
everything. Now, just as she’s agreed to a marriage of convenience, Jonathan
reappears—and after Sarah gets one look at his lean, hard body, the embers of
desire burst back into flame.
Over time,
Jonathan has learned quite a bit about the art of pleasure—though nothing has
ever given him so much joy as the husky timbre of Sarah’s laugh. It had hurt to
leave her, but what other choice did he have? Perhaps he’d been too afraid of
ending up like his brother, targeted by a woman seeking a title. Seeing her
again, Jonathan can’t help wondering what might have been if only Sarah had
surrendered to red-hot lust. Fortunately, judging by the wicked look in her
eyes, it may not be too late to find out.
Sarah’s Surrender is intended for mature audiences.
He
could not be here. Miss Sarah Swilp closed her eyes and prayed that when she
opened them she would find it had all been an illusion, that he would be an
illusion. He could not possibly be here. He’d been gone for five years, been
out of England for five years. Why would he return now? And why here? He’d been
a rich man when he left; now he was supposedly beyond rich. Why would he
possibly choose the Carringtons’ ball as his first appearance in London?
Keeping
her eyes closed, she continued to pray. This night was bad enough without Mr.
Jonathan Perry deciding to appear.
He
couldn’t be here. He couldn’t.
All
the pain and anger of that night five years ago descended on her. She’d fought
so hard to forget and now he was here—and on this night of all nights. Wasn’t
it bad enough that she’d just discovered Lord Duldon was to marry Lady Bliss
Danser, that her own foolish hopes were to be dashed? She should have known
better. Not since that night five years ago had her life ever worked out the
way that she wished.
She
would have to open her eyes soon. Somebody would notice. And people thought her
strange and moody already.
Still,
perhaps she could afford one more moment.
No,
she would be brave; nothing was ever gained by delay.
With
slow deliberation she cracked her eyes, and squinted.
And
against her will, her eyes sought out the strong figure of the man across the
room, then lingered over his long, lean frame. He seemed taller, broader than
she remembered, different from the man she had once thought she loved.
Love.
Had it ever been love or had it all been the foolish imaginings of a child? It
had certainly felt real at the time, but she’d learned her lesson. It had been
burnt into her soul.
You do know I won’t
marry you.
Had
there ever been a phrase so hateful? So designed to cut a woman to the quick?
She’d
been glad that he’d been gone these last five years, glad not to see him, not
to remember him. Glad to forget he’d ever existed.
Glad
to forget those dark eyes and their piercing stare; those endless shoulders
that had protected her from the world; the scent of green grass and leather
that always clung to him when she pressed her face against his chest. Glad to
forget the safety of his embrace. Glad to forget how hard he’d felt against her
cheek; the delicious sensations she’d felt when his hands skimmed over her.
Glad to forget how happy his grin could make her; how constantly he’d made her
laugh. Glad to forget the feel of his lips pressed against hers, his tongue
sliding along the crease. Glad to forget . . .
And
now he was back. And of course he’d arrived tonight, when it felt as though her
world were falling about her. He’d have loved to laugh at her dreams, to have
laughed at poor Miss Swilp reaching so far above herself once again, to have
laughed that she’d ever imagined Duldon could be interested in her.
God,
Jonathan looked good though, better than she’d remembered—and that should have
been impossible. Why couldn’t he have grown thick about the waist or lost some
of that dark hair? Why did he stand there so tall and proud, the black of his
evening wear so stark and elegant? There simply was no justice in the world.
His
head turned.
His
chin dropped slightly, and his eyes met hers, pierced hers—and then moved on.
Did
he not recognize her? She knew she had changed, but . . . Then his gaze
returned, swept her from head to toe. His lips tightened. He turned away.
She
knew what that look and gesture meant. Pity was all too apparent when aimed at
oneself.
Without
another thought, she turned and fled, pushing through the crush and up the stairs.
The retiring room. She would find a moment’s peace there, a chance to collect
herself before risking a confrontation with Jonathan.
She
paused at the door. Hopefully, it would be empty. The evening was still too
young for torn hems, and the ball was so glorious in its intensity that she
couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to miss a moment of the excitement.
She
slipped through the door and into the chamber, releasing a long sigh. Not even
a maid was present. She was alone. Pouring cold water from a pitcher, she
splashed her face, hoping to draw some color into her pallid cheeks. It didn’t
take a glance in the mirror to know she lacked color. She’d felt it all drain
the moment she’d seen him. Not that there had been much to begin with; the days
when her cheeks shone like roses were rare indeed, and this certainly was not
one of them.
No.
No mirror was needed.
She knew exactly what she
looked like, knew exactly what Jonathan had seen.
I received an ARC via NetGalley for the purpose of an honest review. I was not compensated for this review, all conclusions are my own.
Lavinia Kent is a former two-term president of the
Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of America Golden
Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family and an
ever-changing menagerie of pets.
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