A Week to Be Wicked (Spindle Cove)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When a devilish lord and a bluestocking set off on the road to ruin . . . time is not on their side.
Minerva Highwood, one of Spindle Cove's confirmed spinsters, needs to be in Scotland.
Colin Sandhurst, Lord Payne, a rake of the first order, needs to be . . . anywhere but Spindle Cove.
These unlikely partners have one week:
to fake an elopement
to convince family and friends they're "in love"
to outrun armed robbers
to survive their worst nightmares
to travel four hundred miles without killing each other
All while sharing a very small carriage by day and an even smaller bed by night.
What they don't have time for is their growing attraction. Much less wild passion. And heaven forbid they spend precious hours baring their hearts and souls.
Suddenly one week seems like exactly enough time to find a world of trouble. And maybe . . . just maybe . . . everlasting love.
would come from it, of course. Colin had rules for himself, and as for her . . . she didn’t even like him, or pretend to. But she showed up in the middle of the night, hatching schemes that skirted the line between academic logic and reckless adventure. She started kisses she had no notion how to continue. Taken all together, she was simply . . . A surprise. A fresh, bracing gust of the unexpected, for good or ill. “Perhaps,” he said cautiously, “I do find you stimulating.”
to have all the suitors.” His eyebrows lifted. “Except me.” “You’re a special case.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “You really shouldn’t.” And he really shouldn’t look at her that way. So intensely. Searchingly. “Why didn’t you marry long ago?” she blurted out. “If you don’t want to sleep alone, marriage would seem the logical solution. You’d have a wife beside you every night.” He chuckled. “Do you know how many husbands and wives actually sleep in the same bed
same carriage, and he had two well-bred gentlewomen utterly enamored with a reluctant prince who’d turn down the riches of the world for a chance at true love. Their hearts, souls, smiles, and virtues could be his for a single, smoldering gaze. They’d probably queue up to take turns. Minerva suddenly realized that he’d never unleashed his full seductive potential in Spindle Cove—at least, not with Diana. A strange surge of gratitude took her by surprise. “If I’m a prince,” he said,
to the village. Once he’d satisfied himself that Minerva had made it home safe—by glimpsing her muddied boots outside the rear door of the rooming house—he returned to his quarters at the castle and uncorked a new bottle of wine. But he didn’t sleep a wink. He never did. Not at night, not alone. God, he hated the country. All the sunshine and sea air in Sussex couldn’t make up for the dark, quiet nights. Lately, Colin thought he’d give his left nipple—bollocks were never up for
countryside to oversee a local militia was his best chance at redeeming a dissolute existence. What Bram didn’t understand was that they were different kinds of men. Military discipline and rural life may have tamed Bram’s demons, but they were only feeding Colin’s. There was no way to explain that in terms Bram could understand. And what was Colin supposed to say, anyhow? Thank you very much for giving a damn, but I’d rather you didn’t? Bram was his only family now. Over the past year,