Katherine Langford is in London ready to make her debut to society when she discovers that the home next door is being rented by the "Murderous Marquess" Hayden Rowling. Always impulsive, Katy decides to sneak over and take a peek at the notorious M...
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If I was to survive his treachery, I would have to take matters into my own hands...
There was nothing spectral about the hands that gripped her. They dug into her shoulders, radiating a raw heat that stirred the gooseflesh on Katy's arms more surely than any icy draft.
It took her a dazed moment to realize she hadn't been abandoned to complete darkness. Moonlight spun a pale web through a stained-glass fanlight set high in the wall above the double doors. But until her eyes adjusted, it was only enough light to reflect the wild gleam of her husband's eyes.
Hayden looked more than capable of doing murder at that moment.
With each ragged breath, his nostrils flared and his heaving chest brushed hers. His knee was flexed between her thighs, making escape, or even struggle, impossible. As his gaze slid down to her trembling lips, all she could do was hang limp in his embrace and wait for him to either kiss her or kill her.
Reason slowly returned to his eyes, chasing the shadows of madness before it. "You?" he rasped, shaking his head. When he lowered his mouth to her throat, she could only turn her head aside, helpless to resist. He nuzzled the silky flesh of her throat, breathing her in like a stallion scenting a mare he was about to mount. "I don't understand. Why are you wearing that cursed perfume?"
Katy shook her head, her own breath growing short. He seemed to be consuming all of the air in the corridor. Instead of pushing him away, her traitorous fingers clung to the front of his shirt, drawing him even closer. "What perfume? I'm not wearing any scent at all."
He released her abruptly and took a step backward. For some reason, she felt even more vulnerable without his hands on her.
He swiped an unsteady hand over his face. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice gruff. "Why aren't you in your bed where you belong?"
Katy thought it might be a less than prudent moment to remind him that she now belonged in his bed. "I was in my bed. But how was I to sleep with all of that frightful noise? It was enough to wake the dead."
She regretted the words the instant she said them, but it was too late to summon them back. Although she would have thought it impossible, Hayden's face grew even more closed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why, of course you do! You must have heard it. The wailing?" She waved a hand at the door behind them. "Then someone in there playing the piano as if their poor heart was breaking?"
"I heard nothing," he said flatly, refusing so much as to glance at the door.
"What about the jasmine? You can't deny that you smelled the jasmine."
He shrugged. "One of the maids must have passed through here earlier with some fresh cut blooms from the garden. I simply mistook their fragrance for your perfume."
