Great & Unfortunate Desires EXCERPT

What made him say that, of all things? Fiancée? Engaged to the ice queen? Tristan noticed how pale Evelyn turned, and part of him tightened. When that fop moved away so quickly, it was obvious the man wasn’t really interested in Evelyn. But Tristan’s interest surely could have been expressed less dramatically.

“Tris.” Harry stood behind him. “What are you doing?” It was a low whisper.

Tristan forced a smile, concentrating to make it more of a devil-may-care grin. “It wasn’t to be announced just yet,” he replied, his gaze on Evelyn. She still looked a bit shocked. “Come, my sweet.” He held his hand up for her to take.

Her eyes still wide, but her mouth now shut, Evelyn gently laid her hand on his, like a butterfly landing on a flower, fragile as spun glass. She blinked and managed to return a timid smile as he led her away.

Several feet from the croquet game, she stopped, withdrawing her hand, as if he had stung her.

“Do you care to explain yourself, captain? Wait, no, my lord?”

He wanted to laugh at her attempt to guess his rank but heard the anger in her tone. Ah, so his ice queen wasn’t entirely frozen. Her anger melted that lovely aloof façade. Pity.

“I’ve come to a conclusion, my dear…”

“I am not your ‘dear’,” she snapped.

He snorted at her reaction. “But for all intents and purposes, you are. Now hear me out.” Tristan directed her to the oak tree near the edge of the grounds. They were in full view of everyone, so he figured she’d be calmer there than in the house. Evelyn reminded him of a skittish colt, on the verge of darting off if threatened.

“I need a wife. You are searching for a husband. That braggart there was too close for comfort. Therefore, I rescued you.” He chuckled. “And he won’t be bothering you again.”

Her gaze narrowed. Ah, the fire in her eyes lit to blazing. “Whose comfort?”

That question made his skin prickle, like being stabbed with a million pins. Surely she knew that fop’s “familiarity” with her was the stuff of scandal…right? Or was it really that it made Tristan uncomfortable? As if the man had tried to take what was his? And if so, when had that feeling formed?

“You had no right,” she continued, still fuming.

Oh, how he wanted to burn in her fire. “We suit each other perfectly.”

“I will not marry you,” she hissed.

His attraction to her, now his fire and ice queen, grew. As her breathing deepened in anger, he noticed her breasts swelling in the confines of the corset, barely contained. Her illusion tulle fiche was more decorative than concealing, and his cock hardened with each rise of her bosom. Blood racing through him, he struggled to maintain his composure. Despite the warning inside his head to give her sufficient space, he leaned toward her, his hand taking hers again. Evelyn hardened and tried to withdraw it, but he wouldn’t let her go.

To everyone else, they looked like a couple, enraptured with each other. Exactly what he wanted them to think.

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