When a Marquess Loves a Woman
Season's Original, #3
Season's Original, #3
by Vivienne Lorret
Released October 4th 2016
Avon Impulse
Avon Impulse
From The Book Junkie Reads . . . When
a Marrquess Loves a Woman (Season’s Original, #3) . . .
This Marquess had to wait but he got his Lady
or could it be that the Lady got her man.
I have to admit that the prologue got me riled up. I wanted to
skewer Juliet. I was heartbroken for Max. Five years later, things have a way of coming
back and opening doors when least expected. On starts the banter, the witty
humor, the brains to brawn, the high stakes wagers, the plotting and daring
arrangements. Juliet and Max have been parted by five years and life but the
love between the two has not diminished. I felt as if it had strengthened.
You will open a door to fun and laughs. Hot, sexy (not smutty)
romantic interludes. I look forward to
more from the Season’s Original.
Gemme has a special place in my heart. I hope she is next up. I did enjoy
visiting the other couple from the series. I love the way the all come together
in the end. Seeing possibilities was delightful.
I love reading Vivienne’s romances there is always a little
something of magic within. The hero and heroine seem to have that magic around them
and it just draws you in also. Battle they may but they come back to each other
stronger. Vivienne has never let me down. I love
reading her historical romances. Each one brings something different to the
forefront. She imparts something of a historical note.
Season’s
Original series:
All I Want for Christmas (The Duke’s
Christmas Wish) – Season’s Original,
#.5 SEE REVIEW
The
Debutant is Mine – Season’s Original, #1
This Earl is on Fire – Season’s Original, #2 SEE REVIEW
When a Marquess Loves a Woman – Season’s Original, #3
Blurb
As a
young, penniless gentleman, Maxwell Harwick knew he had little to offer Juliet
White—the most beautiful debutante of the season—except his love, and one
thoroughly scandalous kiss. But when they were discovered in a compromising
position, a nearly ruined Juliet fled into the arms of a rich, older lord...
taking Max’s heart with her.
Now a widow, Lady Juliet Granworth intends to use the fortune she inherited from her odious husband to build a new life in London. Five years have passed, but she’s never forgotten Max… or his soul-searing kiss. Yet it’s clear the newly-minted Marquess of Thayne has not forgiven her—after all, the infuriating man can barely stand the sight of her. But Juliet has endured far too much to give up without a fight and if it’s a battle of wills he wants, it’s a battle he’ll get.
He hates her for breaking his heart. She detests him for destroying her future. But beneath all the loathing, simmers an intoxicating passion that neither can ignore… and the harder they resist, the harder they will inevitably fall.
Now a widow, Lady Juliet Granworth intends to use the fortune she inherited from her odious husband to build a new life in London. Five years have passed, but she’s never forgotten Max… or his soul-searing kiss. Yet it’s clear the newly-minted Marquess of Thayne has not forgiven her—after all, the infuriating man can barely stand the sight of her. But Juliet has endured far too much to give up without a fight and if it’s a battle of wills he wants, it’s a battle he’ll get.
He hates her for breaking his heart. She detests him for destroying her future. But beneath all the loathing, simmers an intoxicating passion that neither can ignore… and the harder they resist, the harder they will inevitably fall.
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Then, without warning, he crushed his mouth
to hers.
The
shock of it made her grow still, her eyes still open, even as his closed and a
groan tore from his throat. The sound of
it woke her, startling her into a new awareness. Max was kissing her, his lips
firm and familiar, his tongue bold and commanding, daring her to retaliate.
And she did, slanting her mouth beneath his,
parrying with his tongue while clutching handfuls of his shirt in her fists. He
groaned again, and the vibration of it had the strangest effect on her eyelids,
for they drifted closed. Her head tilted, lips parting, allowing him deeper.
She wasn’t sure if this was part of a battle or a strange sort of truce.
Then again, weren’t truces civilized affairs
between warring factions with cooler heads? That was certainly nothing like her
and Max and this heated skirmish of mouths and hands.
She didn’t know what possessed her, but she
pulled the hem of his shirt free of his trousers, and now her palms were
pressed against the hard plane of his abdomen, her fingertips grazing a soft
dusting of hair. It seemed the sensible thing to do—explore the terrain of her
opponent’s territory—and she refused to overthink her actions.
The clasp of her cloak slipped free from her
neck, the garment falling away as Max’s hands skimmed over her back, down the
row of buttons descending to her derriere, then swept upward past the scalloped
lace and to the bare flesh between her shoulder blades. His touch sent a shiver
down her body, making her arch like a bow against him, poised to strike. Every
inch of her skin suddenly felt taut, her breasts heavy, tingling. Her stomach
dropped lower, weighted, emitting a sweet clenching sensation that seemed to
deplete the air in her lungs.
She broke away from the kiss, turning her
head, breathing hard now. Max did not cease his onslaught. He was battle ready,
always, and far more skilled in this manner of warfare.
Even so, Juliet had no intention of
surrendering. “You destroyed the walls because you’re afraid that I will win
our wager and bring another man here? My, my, Max, that sounds rather like a
jealous man.”
His attention shifted to the column of her
throat, where his wet, open-mouthed kisses called attention to the steady throb
at the apex of her thighs. She wanted to close her legs against it and squeeze
tightly, but Max was there, the hard length of him pushing against her, driving
her back against the wall. Her hips rocked against his in retaliation—or
perhaps because she wanted to feel him once more. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure
that a battle was supposed to feel this good. But with Max, it was difficult to
tell the difference. Part of her loved fighting with him. Every argument felt
like a prelude to something more, something so near and yet still out of reach.
Her frustration mounted when he did not
answer her taunt, and so she slipped her hands free of his shirt, took his face
in her hands, and kissed him again. Yes,
that would show him that she was in control. This time, her tongue swept into
his mouth, and her hips rolled slowly against his. And because she wasn’t
finished proving it, she continued, even as he lifted her off the ground, his
hands clasped over her hips and lower still, until he was cupping her bottom.
She found purchase on a demilune console, Max
between her thighs, his position edging her skirts upward. But now the muslin
was bunched between them. Parting her knees did nothing to bring him back to
where he was a moment ago, to ease that insistent pulse. It was just like Max
to give her a taste of something, only to leave her without. But she wasn’t
going to let him do that to her again. So just like in many battles, she took
him prisoner, locking her legs around him.
Max set his hands over her wrists and slowly
drew them down from his face, his gaze fierce. “I am not going to be the one to
stop this, Juliet. Do you understand? It will be you, like always.” He shook
his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have reached my limit, and this
game of ours must conclude, one way or the other.”
Her first impulse was to challenge him in
return, but when she read his expression, she couldn’t. The edgy mockery she
typically saw was no longer there. He searched her gaze, his dark eyes seeming
vulnerable, and the furrows between his brows no longer angry but pained. He
was open and exposed, revealing a raw desire so potent that it almost
frightened her. Mostly because she felt it too.
She realized this was no longer about the
house or any of their arguments. In fact, she wasn’t sure if it ever was. No,
this was about something more, that tangible thing between them that she
couldn’t shake loose.
If she chose to leave, she sensed that things
would never be the same between them again. And if she stayed . . . things
would never be the same between them again.
But she’d come this far, and running away was
not an option. She’d had five years to think about Max’s kiss. Five years of
wondering what it might have been like if she’d made a different choice.
“I haven’t once looked at the door, Max.” And
then she tipped her chin and pressed her mouth to his.
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Author Info
USA Today bestselling author, VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order … but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is an Avon Impulse author of works including: Tempting Mr. Weatherstone, The Wallflower Wedding Series, The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series, The Duke’s Christmas Wish, and the Season’s Original Series.
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