She's No Princess (Guilty Series)
Laura Lee Guhrke
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A Royal Pain...
The illegitimate daughter of a prince and a notorious courtesan, Lucia has been confined to schools and convents for most of her life. But that hasn't stopped her from causing one scandal after another. Exasperated, her royal father decides that his exquisite hellion of a daughter must be married immediately. And Sir Ian Moore, Britain's most proper diplomat, is the perfect man to choose her a groom.
Diplomacy, not matchmaker, is Ian's forte, but he vows to get Lucia married off as soon as possible so that he may return to his real duties. Yet, despite an abundance of very eager, worthwhile candidates, none is a match for Lucia's spirit and fire. And the more time Ian spends with the infuriating beauty, the more reluctant he is to marry her off. Could it be that he has already found Lucia the perfect husband...and it is Ian himself?
Valenti will give her much trouble.” “You had best meet the young lady before you come to that conclusion,” Ian answered. “I assure you, dear brother, Miss Valenti is capable of creating more chaos than you ever could.” “I shall look forward to meeting her, then. I adore chaos. Shall you stay to dinner?” Surprised, Ian glanced at Grace. “Didn’t you tell him?” Grace lifted one hand in a gesture of futility. “He’s been gone all day and just arrived home. I barely had the opportunity to explain
that were an end to the matter, she changed the subject. “I have always wanted to learn to play this game,” she said, idly pushing billiard balls around with her fingers. She grabbed the red one off the table and turned to face him. “Will you teach me?” The determination in his face made it clear he was unimpressed by her diversionary tactics. “Forget about billiards,” he said, taking the ball out of her hand and putting it back on the table. “I want to know about the chess. Did you lose our
Tremore answered. “He said he was going outside to get some fresh air.” The duke glanced at Lucia. “I understand you and Lord Haye are to be married, Miss Valenti?” Lucia gave a groan. Daphne nudged her husband in the ribs, and he gave her a surprised glance in return. “What?” he asked, clearly ignorant of the circumstances. “The news is all over town. White’s was buzzing about it earlier. Is it not true?” “Well—” Daphne hesitated and glanced at Lucia. “May I tell him?” Lucia, who had already
down her hips. His hands shaped her buttocks, cupped them. He lifted her onto the table. Then he was touching her in the sweetest place of all. Just as in the carriage, she was hot and soft, slick against his fingers. He caressed her there, and her body jerked with the desperate awkwardness of need and inexperience. She clung to him, panting against his neck. He slid his finger inside her, and she cried out, her thighs squeezing convulsively around his invading hand. He eased in a bit deeper,
for that. Ian will marry you. He will take care of you. But both of you will pay a high price for this. Your father will want Ian’s head, and one of you will have to convert to the other’s religion.” “I will.” Lucia knew that was the least she could do under the circumstances. Religion had never mattered much to her anyway. “I will convert.” “That blunts the damage to Ian somewhat, although I suspect the Prime Minister will terminate his ambassadorship. No doubt, the king will concur.” She