She could be the enemy. But he can’t stop wanting her.

The countdown to release day continues, and here’s another excerpt from Her Reformed Rake!

“Your guilty conscience,” she repeated, for it was difficult indeed to make sense of anything when his thumb worshipped the bow of her upper lip, lingering with a delicate caress that made her heart race into a steady gallop. He thought he had entrapped her?

“Yes.” His gaze was fastened upon her mouth now, hungry and bright. But a hint of frown lingered between his dark brows. “My guilty conscience. Just when I thought I hadn’t one.”

His admission struck her, and she couldn’t help but feel it was the most candid he’d been since she met him. It only lasted for a flash, and then the practiced seducer had returned. His thumb followed the seam of her lips, once, twice.

She kissed the fleshy pad, allowed her tongue to dart out against his skin for a taste. Salty and delicious and Sebastian. She wanted more. But she also wanted a conversation. Some idea of who they were and where they were headed.

“It would seem, then, that neither of us ought to bear the weight of a guilty conscience any longer,” she observed, allowing herself to touch him for the first time since their awkward interview had begun. Her hands slid inside his coat, across the silk of his waistcoat, the firm, muscled flesh rippling beneath his layers of civility. He felt, in a word, divine.

So good that she couldn’t keep herself from slipping the whole way around his taut abdomen until she reached his back. Here, he was rigid. Warmth blazed from him. She pressed her palms to the hollow just above his hips. Forced them higher, gliding along muscle and bone, the starch in his bearing, absorbing him, learning him, marking him as hers.

Such freedom, the ability to touch him as she wished. To admire the solid masculinity of him, so different from her soft curves. She was lush where he was spare, and he was strong and strapping where she was small. What a delectable dichotomy was man and woman.

It had never occurred to her before this moment how incredibly perfect it was, how she fit to him and he to her. But now, she felt it, and it was…incredible. His breathing went harsh, matching hers. His mouth was very near. She tried not to stare at those perfectly chiseled lips in longing. Tried not to want him.

But she failed miserably.

“Daisy.” One word—her name—torn from him. He sounded as if he were in pain.

Perhaps he was. His beautiful face was all rigid lines when she wrenched her eyes from his mouth. She didn’t know what to say in this moment of intense possibility, desire humming in the air like a current. Her mind raced, tangling itself in knots, and all she could think was it was wrong to feel such sweeping emotion for a man she scarcely knew.

She wanted to know him. All of him. Wanted to know what his laugh sounded like, how his skin would smell if she pressed her nose to the bristle-shaded angle of his jaw. “I don’t know anything about you.” She tried to understand the effect he had upon her. “It makes no sense that I should feel the way I do for you.”

Want more? Her Reformed Rake is available for pre-order now, and you can read it free in Kindle Unlimited beginning on April 10th!

Until next time, don’t behave.

XO,

Scarlett

Another sneak peek of Restless Rake

Are you looking for another snippet from Restless Rake? As the countdown to February 6th and release day continues, I’m back with another excerpt for you:

It didn’t take him long to locate Clara. She leaned against the faded damask in the main hall, looking as if she held up the entire weight of the wall with her small shoulders. How young she appeared suddenly. How defeated. Her eyes had been closed, but they flew open when she heard him approach.

“Clara.” An odd sensation settled heavily upon his chest. Surely not remorse?

“What do you want, Lord Ravenscroft?” Resignation underscored her words.

She was asking about more than just this moment in the hall. She didn’t merely wonder why he’d followed her. She wondered why he’d married her. Why he’d allowed her to believe he’d load her aboard the first Virginia-bound vessel she could find after they wed. Why he’d never once corrected her when she reminded him their marriage would be in name only. Why he had her dowry in his coffers but no intention of letting her go.

It was simple.

He wanted her.

From the moment she’d appeared in his study wearing that monstrosity of a hat, blustering and offering herself to him like a feast for a starved man, he’d been drawn to her. She was a beauty, but it was more than that. She was innocent, sharp-witted, brave to a fault. She smelled of summer and her body was meant for sin. Meant for him. But Clara Whitney was not the sort of lady he could have. At least, not if he’d been entirely truthful with her.

And so, he hadn’t bothered to disillusion her. He’d made clear to her that he desired her. His intention to seduce her had never been a secret. The rest, however, had been facilitated by his silence. He wouldn’t regret his actions now, but neither did he like the defeated wariness in her expression.

He closed the last of the distance between them. “Need you ask, little dove? I want you.”

When he would have stroked her cheek, she flinched away from his touch. “You cannot have me.”

Stubborn woman. Julian braced a hand on the wall above her head, trapping her. “I already have you.”

Want more? Don’t forget to one-click it now if you haven’t already!

In the mean time, I put together a little collection of my inspirations for this book on Pinterest right here. Check it out if you want to see some beautiful Victorian fashion and an insidious looking Victorian medical instrument used to drill into the skull.

And psst. Don’t forget that Her Reformed Rake is up for pre-order. There’s a sexy spy duke, a marriage of convenience, a fierce American heiress, and a whole lot of sizzle awaiting you.

In the interest of fairness, I will also direct you to my compilation of hot men with beards. You’re welcome.