"She tries to teach him propriety but learns things deliciously improper."
Reviewed by Annetta Sweetko
Posted December 29, 2012
Romance Historical
Fletcher Thomas knows exactly who he is, as the son of a
nefarious underworld leader who has inherited his father's
empire, but that doesn't mean he can't change his world.
While secretly seeing to Seraphina Miller's education, he
has been working to legitimize his holdings. And when he is
no longer the WAYWARD ONE he will marry Sera. He has
been "Digger" to Sera way back then, but he is going to be
a gentleman and her husband some day.
Seraphina, of course, knows she is an orphan, being
educated by someone's good will. She never imagined it
was "Digger", and having learned the lesson of owing
someone early on as she watched her mother living the life
she had, on the good graces of different men, she feared
being indebted to anyone.
After he thwarts a job offer at the school, she moves into
his bachelor home and causes a scramble to keep her
reputation intact. An invalid "aunt" is found and she
becomes her companion. She also begins to set his world
toward the straight and narrow. But someone does not want
her there as little things happen and people he trusts
begin to whisper that maybe she is at fault, maybe it had
been her mother who had caused the death of Fletcher's
father. He ignores the whispers and finding it necessary
for the sake of her reputation he asks Sera to marry him
immediately rather than waiting until his plans for
respectability. Sera still fears losing her hard earned
decorum, especially the things that Fletcher makes her feel
and want that has her second guessing everything she has
learned in for her life.
Is it possible that her husbands love is acceptable in the
proper world she has encased herself in or must she break
out of the world and realize that he offers everything that
she ever dreamed of? The sight of another "proper" couple
showing love and affection gives her the idea it is
possible, but it just might be too late. WAYWARD ONE is a well written, fast paced historical novel
with a decidedly steamy side. The characters are believable
and under the circumstances of their births quite
understandable in the effort to better themselves. The
author [Lorelie Brown] gives you a number of remarkable
twists and turns and intrigue as the couple finally come to
understand each other, the truth of her past and his
father's death. This is a book that will go into my re-read
pile and I will look for more historical from the author.
SUMMARY
He’ll protect her with every vicious bone in his body. During her ten years at the prestigious Waywroth Academy,
Sera Miller clung to a strict code of propriety to shield
herself from rumors that she isn’t an orphan at all. She’s a
bastard. Now she wishes she had never allowed her friends to
talk her into snooping into the mysterious source of her
tuition. Her benefactor isn’t the unknown father she dreamed of one
day meeting, but Fletcher Thomas—underworld tycoon, gambling
den owner, and a man so dangerously mesmerizing that he
could spark the scandal Sera has worked so hard to avoid. Fletcher is only two steps away from leaving the life of
crime he inherited from his father. First he plans to join
an aboveboard railroad consortium, then claim the one thing
his ill-gotten gains have kept safe all these years—Sera. With every wicked caress, Sera fights harder to remember
society’s rules and reject the painful memories his touch
resurrects. Accepting Fletcher’s love means accepting her
past—a risk too great for a woman who has always lived in
the shadows. No matter how safe she feels in his arms. Warning: This book contains a do-gooder heroine, an
accidentally charming hero with tendencies toward
caveman-itis, inappropriate household décor and fabulous sex
against a wall.
ExcerptA hand covered her mouth. A heavy, large and undoubtedly
male body pressed along her back. His chest burned into her
shoulders and his arm lay warm across collarbones bared by
her low–cut evening gown. Fear overwhelmed her, but
only until she smelled a spicy wash of familiar soap.
The fingers across her mouth loosened but still didn't
release. He leaned over her, speaking quietly into her ear.
"It's me. If I release you, do you promise not to scream?"
Fletcher's breath sent shivers down her neck. She only
resented him more for it.
Regrettably, screaming for the pure unadulterated joy of
it was not an option. Even if it were acceptable to release
one's anger in such a fishwife manner, she'd only get him in
trouble and risk her own reputation.
Finally, she nodded.
His hand slid away. Each finger dragged across her skin.
Tingles washed over her.
Sera turned and pressed her back to the wall, but the
reflexive retreat didn't gain her much room. The alcove was
little more than a curtain concealing a doorway. He loomed
too near, taking up the precious air with his vitality. His
mouth was a hard slash of darkness amid more gray. The tiny
streams of light that arrowed around the edges of the
curtain only accentuated the shadows draping his body.
The first thing that popped into her mind then fell out
of her mouth. "You were in the Earl of Linsley's box."
Somehow he managed to infuse arrogance in a single nod.
"That I was. Are you surprised?"
She slid her hands behind her back, the better to hide
their nervous twisting. The rear seam of her bodice abraded
her knuckles. "In all honesty, yes. You said you'd taken
over your father's interests. I didn't think Linsley was the
type to...dabble."
"He's not. More woe to me for it." He rubbed a hand
across the top of his head. "It might be easier to crack his
consortium if he were," he muttered, so low that Sera barely
heard him.
"Consortium?"
"Railroad." He waved a hand. "No matter. I've come to
find out if you'll take the money."
She narrowed her eyes but saw him no better for it. She'd
pay the entirety of the sum to read his expression. "Did you
intimidate Mrs. Waywroth in some manner?"
He flattened his hand against the wall next to her head
and leaned near. "Define intimidate."
"To frighten or scare in any manner."
The air pressed close. If she breathed too deeply, she'd
brush against him. "Do I seem like a man who could
intimidate, Seraphina?"
She swiped her tongue across her lips as she tried to see
past the shadows and memories. He was different now. Not the
boy she'd once known. Despite that, she couldn't help but
wonder at his true motivations. Why pay for years of
schooling for a girl he'd known for a matter of months? He'd
taken her from the gutters and designed his own lady. But why?
For the price he'd paid, there was no telling what
repayment he expected.
"If it served your purposes, I think intimidation is well
within your purview."
His head lowered farther, until her world narrowed to the
wash of his breath across her jawbone. "And your precious
Mrs. Waywroth? Do you think I said frightening things to her?"
"I don't think you had to." She refused to show her fear
by running away, but her shoulders pressed more firmly
against the wall. Anything to sublimate the urge she had to
touch him. The wallpaper was cold against the nape of her
neck, bared by the meticulously intricate hairstyle
Victoria's maid had created. "I imagine it was an endowment.
For the library, perhaps?"
"I'm glad to see you haven't lost your ability to look
within people." The darkness prevented her from seeing his
hand move, but she certainly felt it. A whisper of motion
along the outside of her arm. The shock of touch.
"And you? Am I supposed to be able to look within you?"
The barest hint of a chuckle colored his rich voice. "I
certainly hope not."
"I think you want to live an honest life, Fletcher
Thomas. It's why you're here tonight."
He pushed away suddenly. The swirl of air left in his
wake sent gooseflesh chasing across her bare shoulders. "You
think so, do you? How do you know I'm not simply here to
intimidate you instead?"
"It wouldn't make sense. Dragging me into this
hidey–hole was unexpected. No way to plan for it." A
stray beam of light sliced across his cravat and the emerald
stickpin holding it in place. "You're here to woo the earl.
I'm sorry to say I don't believe it's going well."
"What a feisty little kitten you've become. All big eyes
and fluffy fur and sneaky, spiky claws."
Satisfaction loosened her twisted nerves. She'd regained
an even playing field, if not the upper hand. "Then let me
continue. You wish to participate in this railroad
consortium. Lord Linsley is willing to indulge you to an
extent, likely because of his wife. She enjoys dabbling with
the lower ranks, pretending she lives on the edge. But
really, you're too much of an unknown. He won't allow you
more than the taste of a possibility."
"He'd do well to have my backing," Fletcher growled. "The
consortium is teetering for lack of solid investment. His
man of business has built a house of cards. One wrong flick
and I could send it tumbling down around him."
"But you won't." Her mind clicked, shuffling through the
possibilities like a wind–up automaton. "Do you intend
to destroy every possible opportunity I have for gainful
occupation?"
The sudden change of topic didn't seem to confuse him in
the least. "It certainly crossed my mind." His voice had
returned to the silky purr he'd used while leaning over her
ear. With a rustle of linen and wool, he shifted and crossed
his arms.
"Until I agree to take your money."
"If that's what's required. I've made it my mission to
ensure you're a lady. You will not work. It would be much
simpler if you agreed now to take it."
His father had been the same sort of ruthless man, the
type who would push and hurt and crush others within his
grasp until he got what he wanted. If Fletcher possessed
even a quarter that determination, he would succeed in his
aims, but not before forcing them into a battle that would
eventually gain society's attention.
Thus she could anticipate nothing but idleness, with no
funds to support herself unless she agreed. He'd yank the
pins out from under her life, just like his cruel father had
manipulated everyone around him. That had been Mama's reason
for leaving Mac Thomas's employ, and the exact same reason
she'd tried to return. When she couldn't hold the pieces of
their lives together on her own, she succumbed to his control.
They'd both died.
"I'll agree," she blurted out.
Fletcher pushed off the wall, and his triumph was a
palpable taste in the air.
She held up a hand. "On one condition."
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