A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 1: Dark Angel

Dear Diary,
It was as if a dark angel had lain down
amongst the crisp, white sheets of the bed.
A very wicked angel.

London, England
April 12, 1812

Angelique Grafton had imagined several scenarios for her unexpected early arrival at her brother's London townhouse. None of them ended with finding a stranger sleeping in her bed.

Hovering in the doorway to her room, she bit her lower lip as she debated her options. The proper response would be to fetch her brother or the butler, but her feet refused to move. With an arm flung across his face, the man lay on his back. The white sheets pulled up to his chest only emphasised the fact that there wasn't a shred of clothing on him. It was the most bare skin she'd ever seen on a man. A quiet life in the country provided no sights like this. Overcome by curiosity, she took a few hesitant steps closer, wanting a better look. Ignoring the fluttering of her nerves, she walked up to the bed, fully aware that she was doing something she shouldn't be.

Not even the thought of her aunt's disapproval was enough to deter her from the tantalising sight of all that bare male form. 'Angel, what are you thinking? To enter a room with a naked man inside! Are you trying to get yourself ruined?'

With the arm over his face, she could see little of the stranger's features, but his skin was smooth and tanned, much darker than her own pale complexion. It looked utterly touchable.

Throwing a glance towards the open door, she made sure she was alone before using her teeth to loosen the gloves at the fingertips. Pulling them off, she quietly put them on the nightstand by the bed before reaching a hand out. Only to pull it back just as quickly as the stranger let out a small sigh. What was she doing? She must have lost her wits. You didn't just walk into a room to touch someone simply because their skin looked warm and inviting—even if they happened to be sleeping in your bed. With a rueful smile, she shook her head and retreated.

She almost bit her tongue in surprise when the man suddenly reached out and grabbed her bare arm. Before she had time to react, he pulled her down onto the bed and her body collided with his.

"Don't leave, darling," he mumbled, the hoarse quality of his sleepy voice sending shivers down her back.

"I—" She did bite her tongue then, trying to keep herself from saying something inane as her mind reeled from their inappropriate closeness. "I do believe I should."

His chest was solid against her own as she was half-lying on top of him, and the arm not covering his face had moved to circle her waist. Oh, this was wrong. So very, very wrong. If anyone saw them like this, they would most definitely make the wrong assumption, and her reputation would be ruined. She tried to pull away, but the man's grip on her waist didn't waver.

"But we were having so much fun." His words, spoken through half a yawn, made her realise he wasn't quite awake and must confuse her with whatever dream he'd been having.

In an attempt to sit back up, she placed her hand on his chest and was momentarily distracted by the heat of his skin against her palm. He finally appeared to be stirring, slowly sitting up. In fascinated horror, she watched as the sheets fell from his chest and bundled around his waist, revealing a flat abdomen with sculpted muscles. A pair of dark eyes fastened on her, making her want to squirm. They stared at each other. Her mouth fell open as she took him in. This was quite the most handsome man she had ever seen.

He had the perfect face one would expect on an angel, but with his tanned skin and unruly black hair, he was probably more like a fallen angel. A dark shadow of stubble covered his strong, angular jaw. As her mind swam with visions she'd never known it could conjure, Angel tried to swallow but her throat was dry.