England, 'The bluest of blood; the boldest of hearts; the de Montforte brothers will take your breath away.' The powerful and manipulative Duke of. conclusion to Danelle Harmon's critically acclaimed de Montforte Brothers series! Available ebook formats: epub mobi pdf rtf lrf pdb txt html. Read "The Wicked One" by Danelle Harmon available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. When the powerful Lucien de.

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Read The Wicked One by Danelle Harmon for free with a 30 day free trial. Read unlimited* books and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone. The Wayward One. The de Montforte Brothers (Series). Danelle Harmon Author Book 3. Danelle Harmon Author (). cover image of The Wicked One. The Wicked One By Danelle Harmon - FictionDB. Cover art, synopsis, sequels, reviews, awards, publishing history, genres, and time period.

Create a List. The Wicked One by Danelle Harmon. Summary When the powerful Lucien de Montforte, the Duke of Blackheath, arrives home to find a dangerous and vengeful woman waiting for him in his bed with pistol in hand, the master manipulator never dreams that he has finally met his match. Read on the Scribd mobile app Download the free Scribd mobile app to read anytime, anywhere. Danelle Harmon Released: May 27, ISBN: Start your free 30 days. The Virgin and the Viscount.

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The Wicked One

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Master Of My Dreams. Wicked At Heart.

Taken By Storm. I can assure you that haste and pleasure do not make appropriate bedmates — his eyes were gleaming now above that slow, deliberate smile — if you'll pardon the expression. Oh, no, Blackheath. I am here only to make sure that this time, I have possession of the real aphrodisiac, and that it does everything it is supposed to do. And what, my dear, is it supposed to do? Seduce you. The smile broadened. He stretched out his arm, and the stock, a white ribbon in the darkness, floated lazily down to join his waistcoat, still draped over the back of the chair.

Ah, of course. Seduce me. The way he said the words — caressingly, almost invitingly, a velvet command — sent an unexpected arrow of heat through her blood that found its mark at the junction of her thighs.

Her mouth went dry.

Her pulse quickened. She had come here steal the aphrodisiac, to humiliate this man. For a moment, her calculating eyes settled on the bare oval of skin at his throat, then roved down his torso, assessing him as men had assessed women throughout the ages and finding him blessed in form as well as face.

But no. She would not respond to her body's carnal demands. She would not give Blackheath the satisfaction; let him want her, let him covet her, let him hate her, even — but he would never have her. It was obvious he had other ideas. In the mirror, she could see his hands at his throat now, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt, chin raised and his eyes — black, compelling, heavy-lidded eyes — still watching her.

There were promises in those eyes. A dangerous heat that made her own body respond in kind. And now, as casually as if he were undressing before a wife instead of the one person in the world poised and more than willing to shoot him, he pulled his shirt free of his waistband, bunched its tails in his fists, and dragged the garment up and over his head. Muscles in his back rippled, glowing tawny in the faint candlelight, skating over powerful shoulders.

Lord, he was gorgeous. He stood watching her in the mirror, the shirt hooked over his forefinger. And now, my dear? Face me and drop the breeches, she snapped, wanting to humiliate him.

Let's see if the rest of you measures up to what you've already bared. He merely smiled. She shifted forward on the bed.

Like it or not, Blackheath, you will imbibe this potion, and your body will prove whether or not it is the real aphrodisiac before I try it on someone far more important than you. In that case, I fear I don't quite see the point of this little. It whispered down over the chair, hung there a moment, and then slid to the floor in a pool of fine white lawn.

Blackheath did not stoop to retrieve it. Nor did he bother to turn around, as though he did not respect the danger she presented. His studied nonchalance stoked Eva's fury — even as it filled her with desire. What infuriating arrogance! What unbelievable egotism!

The mere sight of you, madam, and the knowledge that I will soon have you, is more than enough to arouse me. I ask you, what good is a love potion, and what does taking it prove, when a man already wants a woman? At her look of stony wrath, he merely gave a chiding smile. Really, if it's a reaction you're looking for, I daresay you would be far better advised giving it to one of the statues downstairs.


Eva's smile faded. Her face went flat and hard. She began to swing her legs off the bed. Or, continued Blackheath, in that same calculatedly mocking tone, "taking a dose of it yourself. After all, you seem far less willing than I to indulge in a night of bedplay.

Eva slid off the bed, came up behind him, and put the pistol to the base of his skull, her mouth two inches from the warm, deadly metal as she raised herself on tiptoe to hiss into his ear, Are you ready to get down to business? It is your readiness, madam, that is in question. In the next instant, she found herself flat on her back and gasping for breath as she stared up at the hangings of his bed, her body crushed beneath the splendid weight of his, her arms pinned flat to the mattress over which he'd shoved her in that one lightning-fast movement that had knocked the wind from her lungs.

Stunned, she glared up at him, her heart pounding. He had bested her.

He smiled down at her, but his eyes were not amused; they were glittering now, cold, deadly. His mouth lowered, and she flung her head to one side to avoid the sudden, seductive whisper of his lips against her cheek. You know what they say about women who play with fire, he murmured. I am not playing. How unfortunate. She quivered as his lips, so warm, so demanding, brushed over the curve of her jaw, igniting unwelcome fires, threatening her resolve.

Ah, but it is. As the outcome is inevitable, why don't you relax and enjoy yourself? I cannot enjoy the attentions of a scoundrel who nearly ruined my life. Why don't you just admit you switched that potion, Blackheath? It was necessary to keep it safe, you see. My brother Andrew is a bit of a.

I could not entrust something as valuable as the world's first proven aphrodisiac into his keeping — even if he did invent it. My intentions were only to fool him into thinking he was carrying home the genuine article.

The fact that you were fooled as well, and your own no doubt treasonous plans sabotaged by my actions, was merely an unforseen boon. When are you Yankees ever going to acknowledge that America is not a country, but a series of colonies? But he was crushing her, pinning her helplessly to the sheets, the mattress.


She felt him pull the bottle from her fingers and place it on the bedside stand — out of reach, out of harm's way. She could not move. Could not even get her knee up to crush his groin and destroy any and all chances of his ever siring the sixth duke. And now he had pulled back to gaze down at her, triumphant, the hunter admiring his kill before devouring it, one palm cupping the side of her face and forcing her to look up and into those magnetic black eyes.

Her breasts fired in response. She could feel the nipples, tight and hard, against her chemise, her stays, her gown. And she could feel his arousal pressing against her pelvis, even though breeches and skirts separated them. Think, Eva. The pistol. She tried to raise her arm, but no, he was still one step ahead of her and had anticipated her movement. His fingers closed over her hand, gently forcing it back down to the sheets, the thumb teasing the sensitive inside of her wrist, rubbing gently, stroking, drawing little circles there until she was no longer trying to turn away, until the pistol, and her desire to empty it into him, were the furthest things from her mind.

Her fingers relaxed. The pistol slid from her grasp. So, madam, he murmured, dragging her hand up to his mouth and kissing each knuckle, one by one, as his dark gaze held hers from over the top of each.

Shall we get on with this. He was dipping his tongue between the base of each finger now, causing involuntary tremors to rake her body, causing her nipples to pucker and ache for wanting him.

Eva desperately sought the fury that would protect her — and found only helplessness. She glared up at him. Up into those black, black eyes. It was said that the eyes were the mirror of the soul, but Blackheath's soul was a well whose bottom was miles down. She could read nothing in those eyes. And then he brought her hand to his lips, pressed his mouth to her palm, and touched the point of his tongue to it.Overall rating 4.

Eerily so.

How is he going to get out of this? Strangulation is a most. I am not playing. But sure thing that this romance story is a feisty one! She twisted away, her breath coming hard. She's a thief, a murderer, and seems to have no empathy for other people at all.

JINNY from Pembroke Pines
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