Sophia Blaise is enjoying her first season as a debutante.
She has her eye on the Marquesse of Withington, this
season's most eligible and titled bachelor. He is nice.
A good friend. But not the romantic, handsome blue eyed
curly haired spy she has been writing about after being
told
about him from La Reinette. " The Little Queen" as she has
been called, is the notorious madam, owner of The Glossy
in
Mayfair. She has been mistress to Prime Ministers and
Continental Royalty in Europe and now excposes her
dalliances secretly to Sophia, who quills them. while
dreaming of that blue-eyed spy.
Thomas Hope is a successful banker in London, working hard
to restore his family's reputation. His father and his
father before him was banker to the great houses in
Europe.
His family is now dead, and Hope was forced to flee Europe
to come to London. Here he dreams of restoring Hope and
Company to its former glory. He is also an aspiring
writer
working on a book about the greatest diamond in the world,
known as the French Blue.
It has been ten years since Thomas Hope worked as a spy
along with Henry Beacon Lake, a privateer-cum-spy, Lake
saved his life but lost his leg and one eye. He appears
one
night in the drawing room, having entered through the
window'. Lake looks like a pirate, limps and wears a
black
patch over his eye. A handsome man, irresistible to
women,
he is counting on Hope to buy the French Blue and give it
to
him to help save England. Hope's reply is "I was born to
count, not to spy." A plan is hatched and the adventure
begins.
I found THE MILLIONAIRE ROGUE to be an enjoyable,
exciting, and romantic, read.
How they found and purchased the French Blue, having it
stolen at a ball while being distracted by acrobats, and
crashing chandeliers, chasing it, to a finale is a
dramatic and engrossing read.
Thomas and Sophia, with all
the cards stacked against them, fall in love and search
for
answers on how they can be together forever Sophia is
humorous, a heroine who wants to help her hero but can't
shoot a gun or wield a knife as hard as she tries. She
cries too often and her dancing needs help, but she is
adorable and Thomas, with his curls is very appealing and
a
stud. Lake brings intrigue and a comic romance and I look
forward to the sequel that brings him back for an encore
performance. Praise for Jessica Peterson. You have a new
fan.
In an age of stately decorum, the Hope Diamond was a
source
of delicious intrigue—and a font of unimaginable
adventure...
Though not of noble birth, Thomas Hope has a skill in
banking that’s made him one of the richest, most trusted
men
in London. Still, he keeps his dubious past hidden. So
when
an old acquaintance calls on Hope to help acquire the
infamous French Blue Diamond, he’s desperate to be
discreet.
He never expects that his biggest concern shouldn’t be
losing his reputation, but his heart.
Sophia Blaise is determined to make a brilliant match
with
this season’s most eligible, most titled bachelor, but
her
true passion has been ignited by the incredible stories
she
hears while secretly transcribing the memoirs of a
notorious
Madam. After a night of clandestine writing ends with
Sophia
caught up in a scandalous adventure of her own—with an
alluring banker—she begins to question whether she’s
suited
to the proper life she’s always known…
Caught up in a thrilling exploit and unexpected romance,
Sophia must make a choice between what her head knows is
safe and what her heart desperately desires, before both
slip from her grasp forever.
Excerpt
The Princess beamed at them. Hope shifted uncomfortably in
his seat, his jaw beginning to ache from smiling.
"Well, your Highness," he began, "it's been a pleas-"
"Aren't you going to kiss?" Caroline asked, looking from
Hope to Sophia. "It is no small gift, the French Blue,
wouldn't you say, Miss Blaise?"
Hope laughed nervously and glanced at Sophia. Her cheeks
had gone from pink to persimmon, but her hazel eyes slanted
invitingly, sparking with something akin to curiosity.
This was trouble.
"Kiss?" Hope said. "Well. That would hardly be proper,
given the circumstances – "
"Not proper? Why, there were never more proper
circumstances for a kiss in the history of mankind! Now go
on. Kiss!"
Hope swallowed for what felt like the hundredth time that
night. He turned his head to Sophia and met those warm,
inviting eyes of hers. His heart raced, his blood wild.
It's only a kiss, he reminded himself. King and Country,
saving lives, for England, Harry, and St. George – he
could kiss Sophia for all those reasons.
But kissing her for his reasons – reasons that
now danced in that wild blood of his – that was
another matter entirely. He'd already broken a promise he'd
made to himself by joining Lake in this wild goose chase.
Hope wouldn't – couldn't – break another by
seducing Miss Sophia Blaise.
And yet here she was, those eyes and those lips. Oh, those
lips, they just begged to be kissed. His groin tightened as
he remembered her working that bottom lip earlier that
evening. How he'd longed to work it himself, the top lip
too, and –
Again the twist of desire between his legs.
The urge rolled over him as swift and sure as the tide. He
couldn't say no, not when she looked at him like that,
confident and terrified and curious all at once.
Thomas set the box in his lap and reached out and cradled
her face in his palm, his thumb gently holding her chin in
place. His eyes never leaving hers, he leaned forward,
wondering vaguely if he even remembered how to do it, and do
it well.
***
Thomas knew how to kiss very well indeed.
Not that Sophia had any experience with things like kisses.
But God above it was a special sort of heaven, the
firm but sensual press of his lips to hers, the obvious care
he took in applying just enough pressure but never too much.
It had all happened so quickly. She watched with bated
breath as he'd leaned forward, his blue eyes suddenly
serious and clouded. Something about the lean slant of his
neck as he tilted his head, just so, made her entire being
pulse with longing. Mr. Hope – Thomas – was
deucedly handsome. Devilishly, deucedly handsome.
When he drew too close, and she could no longer bear the
anticipation, her eyes fluttered shut. And then his breath
was soft and sweet upon her face and she felt herself
leaning into him.
And then.
And then.
Their lips met. The kiss was tender; the warmth of it
surprised her, the intimacy of it terrifying. She had to
resist the impulse to pull away, and yet her body yearned
for more.
Hope's thumb grazed the line of her jaw and suddenly the
kiss deepened, so much so that Sophia could feel it all the
way in her knees. Pleasure coursed through her when his
lips moved against hers, slowly, skillfully, and she felt
herself falling into the kiss, moving her mouth in time to his.
The assault was endless, and Sophia reveled in the sensation
of being captured by him, her blood pounding as Thomas
arched over her. With each stroke of his lips he turned his
head, and with his hand turned her face so that that she
matched his movements. For a moment the kiss slowed and
Hope's hand slipped further towards her. She shivered as
his fingers brushed the skin of her neck, his thumb tugging
at her earlobe; and then those fingers were tangled in her
hair, and he was taking her bottom lip between his own.
All the while moving slowly, with great intent and
concentration. His touch was sure but soft. She drank
deeply, her belly turning over at his passion, hers too.
Being kissed was wholly different, and God above so much
better, than she'd imagined it would be. But even Sophia in
her ignorance knew this was no mere kiss, not the kind a
debutante would share with a beau. This kiss was too honest
and bold. It spoke of forbidden things. Attraction.
Desire. A curiosity to push further, and know more.
Through the pounding of her heart and lips, Sophia heard
Princess Caroline making an odd, high-pitched sound. Her
blood leapt in dismay at the realization her kiss with
Thomas would end.
He slid his hand back to cup her jaw. He tugged at her lips
one last time, his teeth lingering on her bottom lip before
he pulled away altogether.
Sophia opened her eyes, chest heaving in an attempt to catch
her breath. Thomas was looking at her, his blue eyes
probing and full of concern.
As if he had anything to be concerned about. The kiss
– his kiss – it was so deucedly good it
left her all but shaking.
For a moment she was overcome by a sense of wonder. Where
had Mr. Hope learned such sensual skill? And how did she
get so lucky as to experience it?
Regardless, Sophia knew one thing for certain.
She was ruined. Not the kind of ruin that got everyone in
the upper ten thousand, her mother especially, so excited. No.
She was ruined for whichever poor Marquess or Earl's son
whom she (hopefully) married. For there was no way on God's
green Earth that anyone could possibly kiss as well as Mr.
Thomas Hope; that any man could thrill her with his lips
alone as he had done.
She wanted to throttle him for giving her a taste of
something that could never be hers.
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