“Yes, I'm a man and everyone knows men are great hairy beasts scarcely tamed by civilization-Jermyn, Duke of Northcliff to Amy, Princess Beaumontaigne”

“Ah, Lord Northcliff, how well you look this afternoon!”“Thank you. I feel well indeed.”Taking Amy’s hand, he held it in both of his. “As long as my princess is nigh.”

“If Amy had one ounce of romance in her soul, she would be sighing with gratification. Instead, she said acerbically, “All that’s missing is the love poem.”Jermyn deposited her in a chair by the table. “I’ll order a pen and ink for you.”

“She glanced over her shoulder at him. “So until the wedding ceremony in your chapel, we’ll be chaste?”Her smile flirted and taunted, and he marveled at how quickly Amy had learned to entice. “There is an advantage with living in a building that was once an abbey.”“What is that, Jermyn?” She pulled on her tattered gloves.Biggers moaned softly. “The place is riddled with secret passages,” Jermyn told her.“But my lord! You’re not suggesting you’ll visit my bedchamber for a tryst?” She fluttered her eyelashes and tried to look shocked.With a straight face, he replied, “Absolutely not! You’ve already proved your skill at sneaking into my bedchamber, so I thought you would come to mine.”She burst into laughter, a full-bodied peal or merriment. Taking his arm, she scolded, “Layabout!”“Only with you, my bride, only with you.”

“Jermyn saw Amy strolling toward him, a seductive roll to her hips, discarding her clothing as she walked. She was smiling, teasing him as she stepped out of her petticoats and stood clad in her sheer chemise. Her nipples showed through the cream silk, puckered with desire for him—”Amy’s disagreeable tone shredded his fantasy. “My lord, you have been staring at the chessboard for a full five minutes. Would you like me to make your move for you?”He jumped like a lad with his fingers caught in the jam pot. The rickety chair beneath him groaned.“Now, Amy, you must be patient with His Lordship,” Miss Victorine chided. “He’s spent the day manacled by his ankle and he’s ready to snarl like a lion.”“More like a small, ill-tempered badger,” Amy muttered.Jermyn looked across the long length of the table at her. He sat on one end, she sat on the other. She wore the most contrary expression, and her eyes sparkled with irritation. She made it most difficult to indulge in a dream about her.”

“When she thought of how Lord Northcliff was ruining the life of a poor, sweet, old lady, she wanted to shriek with frustration. She wanted to shake him until he saw sense. She wanted to . . . she wanted to arrange a carriage accident that would finish him off.”

“When at last he could lift his head, he asked, “What have you done?”“What have I done?” She lifted a mocking brow. “Why, I’ve kidnapped the marquees of Northcliff.”“You dare to admit it?” Inch by painful inch, he dragged himself onto the cot.“Admitting to it is the least of my sins. I did it.”