The Lost Heiresses
It’s one thing for a girl to lose her way, quite another to lose her heart…
Genny Hayes could charm a bear away from a pot of honey. But raised in the forests of Yosemite, she’s met precious few men to practice her smiles upon. Until a marvelously handsome photographer appears in her little corner of the wilderness and she convinces him to take her clear across the country and over the seas to England, where she has a titled grandmother and grandfather waiting to claim her. On their whirlwind journey, she’ll have the chance to bedazzle and befuddle store clerks and train robbers, society matrons and big city reporters, maids and madams, but the one man she most wants to beguile seems determined to play the gentleman and leave her untouched. Until love steps in and knocks them both head over heels…
“Mitch?”
He slipped the key in the door. “What?”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
He gave her a quick look. At the moment, even with her green eyes glazed with whiskey and her hair slightly askew, she looked more than pretty. “Sure.”
“Did you think Minnie was pretty?”
“No.”
“I think she was,” Genny said a bit wistfully.
He pushed the door open and Genny heaved herself off the wall to walk into the room. She fell onto her bed, face first. “Tired,” she said, the word muffled by the blankets.
Mitch lit a gas lamp, then allowed himself to take her in, her mussed-up hair, her trim waist, her arms akimbo. He shook his head and smiled, then let out a sigh, sat down on the bed, lifted one of her feet and started unlacing her shoe. He tried not to think about her slim ankle or the silk stocking that was so smooth beneath his calloused hand, and so he worked quickly, tossing the shoes one by one onto the floor. When he had her shoes off, she turned around and settled properly onto the bed. He wasn’t about to undress her completely, so he stood up. Let her worry about her wrinkled dress in the morning. It would be a good lesson for her.
“Mitch?”
“Yeah.”
“Could you kiss me goodnight?”
Jesus. “Sure, kiddo.” He leaned over her, intending to kiss her forehead, but she lifted her head at the last moment and her lips pressed against his. He meant to pull back, and did a bit, but she followed him, pressing closer as he jammed one fist into the blanket beside her to stop himself from pulling her against him. It was obvious she didn’t know how to kiss, and that was one thing Mitch was thankful for. She kept her mouth closed, but her lips were so damned soft, all he could think about was nudging down her jaw gently and tasting her. But he didn’t.
He pulled back slowly and she smiled drunkenly up at him. “Minnie said you looked like a man who could kiss.”
“Yeah, well, most men can.”
“Good night, Mitch.”
To be entered to win a signed copy share with us your top 3 location settings for a historical. Winner will be randomly selected on 9-16 and announced shortly thereafter. Please leave your email so you can be contacted! Sorry, limited to U.S. only.
Good luck y'all!!
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS
I enjoy reading historical stories set in unusual settings, but also love to go back to some settings over an over - like Regency England, Medieval England and Scotland
ReplyDeleteforgot my email - sallans d at yahoo dot com
Delete