(MSRP: 4.5000)
Available in Print
Much to her surprise, Devin Noone inherits a Scottish Castle and with it the title of Lady. Devin conjures up images of knights on white chargers, fair-haired damsels in distress and, fire-breathing dragons. She’s never imagined what she’d get in addition to the Castle—a seaweed covered canine and a two hundred year old specter, Lord Kyle MacLay.
Devin always believed that her cousin’s tales of Castle Loch Haven’s haunted past had been just that—tales. Yet, here the Laird was in the flesh, so to speak.
At Kyle’s request, Devin agrees to help him solve the mystery that’s kept him trapped, unable to pass on to the next life. Having heard the story of the kidnapping of MacLay’s fiancée, Lady Elsbeth Morehead, and of his own alleged suicide. As time goes by, she falls helplessly under his sensual spell, and knows she will do anything he asks.
Rosebud
180 Pages, Spicy
Print ISBN 1-60154-372-7
Excerpt:
"You came." He moved toward her.
Devin backed away from his advance. The delicate teacup she held hit the silver serving tray with a resounding crash. Pieces of floral patterned china rained down on the carpet in her haste to get away.
"Oh, no," Devin cried out, scrambling for the linen napkin, hurrying to soak up the amber liquid before it ruined the plush wool rug.
"Lord Rollie won't be pleased, lass. That set was in his family for over a hundred years," Kyle remarked through gritted teeth, gesturing toward the soggy mess.
"Really, and how would you know what my cousin owned?" The American woman threw a wary glance in his direction as she dropped to her knees to blot at the spot.
He offered up a nonchalant shrug. "I knew all about the man."
"Look Mr ... whoever you are, I think it's time you left. This is a private home and I'm not quite sure how you got in, but I'd appreciate it if you would leave now." She motioned toward the door with her free hand.
"Kyle MacLay, previous owner of Castle Loch Haven," he replied calmly.
"What did you say?" Devin turned toward him, her gaze caught on his face, not quite sure of what she had just heard. The carpet was now forgotten for the moment.
"Laird Kyle MacLay, at your service, lass." He bowed low before her.
"Look, if this is some kind of sick joke, I am not impressed."
"No joke, milady. I would never deign to make light of Lord Roland's demise," he said seriously, as far as Devin could.
"Laird MacLay?" she whispered, her heart thundering in her chest.
