How to Seduce a Scoundrel

Book 2: How To

by Vicky Dreiling

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Romance

Synopsis

With this captivatingly witty debut, Vicky Dreiling immediately established herself as an author of note in the world of Regency romance. How to Seduce a Scoundrel introduces readers to Miss Julianne Gatewick, a comely lass who finds herself seduced by a rake’s sensual waltz. But when the unapologetic lothario leaves her all aflutter—and moves on to his next dalliance—Julianne decides to prick the sides of scoundrels everywhere by penning a guide to reeling in England’s most notorious cads.

Release date: July 1, 2011

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 448

Sample

A Scoundrel’s Code of Conduct: Virgins are strictly forbidden, especially if said virgin happens to be your friend’s sister.

Richmond, England, 1817

He’d arrived late as usual.


Marc Darcett, Earl of Hawkfield, twirled his top hat as he sauntered along the pavement toward his mother’s home. A chilly
breeze ruffled his hair and stung his face. In the dwindling evening light, Ashdown House with its crenellated top and turrets
stood stalwart near the banks of the Thames.


Ordinarily, Hawk dreaded the obligatory weekly visits. His mother and three married sisters had grown increasingly demanding
about his lack of a bride since his oldest friend had wed last summer. They made no secret of their disappointment in him, but he was accustomed to being the family scapegrace.


Today, however, he looked forward to seeing that oldest friend, Tristan Gatewick, the Duke of Shelbourne.

After the butler, Jones, admitted him, Hawk stripped off his gloves and greatcoat. “Are Shelbourne and his sister here yet?”

“The duke and Lady Julianne arrived two hours ago,” Jones said.

“Excellent.” Hawk couldn’t wait to relate his latest bawdy escapade to his friend. Last evening, he’d met Nancy and Nell,
two naughty dancers who had made him an indecent proposition. Not wishing to appear too anxious, he’d promised to think over
the matter, but he intended to accept their two-for-the-price-of-one offer.


The fastidious Jones eyed Hawk’s head critically. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but you might wish to attend to your hair.”

“You don’t say?” Hawk pretended to be oblivious and peered at his windblown locks in the mirror above the foyer table. “Perfect,”
he said. “Mussed hair is all the rage.”


“If you say so, my lord.”

Hawk spun around. “I take it everyone is waiting in the gold drawing room?”

“Yes, my lord. Your mother has inquired after you several times.”

Hawk glanced out at the great hall and grinned at the giant statue next to the stairwell. “Ah, my mother has taken an interest
in naked statuary, has she?”


The ordinarily stoic Jones made a suspicious, muffled sound. Then he cleared his throat. “Apollo was delivered yesterday.”

“Complete with his lyre and snake, I see. Well, I shall welcome him to the family.” Hawk’s boots clipped on the checkered
marble floor as he strolled toward the cantilevered stairwell, an architectural feat that made the underside of the stone
steps appear suspended in midair. At the base of the stairs, he paused to inspect the reproduction and grimaced at Apollo’s
minuscule genitalia. “Poor bastard.”


Footsteps sounded above. Hawk looked up to find Tristan striding down the carpeted steps.

“Sizing up the competition?” Tristan said.

Hawk grinned. “The devil. It’s the old married man.”

“I saw your curricle from the window.” Tristan stepped onto the marble floor and clapped Hawk on the shoulder. “You look as
if you just tumbled out of bed.”


Hawk wagged his brows and let his friend imagine what he would. “How is your duchess?”

A brief, careworn expression flitted through his friend’s eyes. “The doctor says all is progressing well. She has two more
months of confinement.” He released a gusty sigh. “I wanted a son, but now I’m praying for a safe delivery.”


Hawk nodded but said nothing.

“One day it will be your turn, and I’ll be the one consoling you.”

That day would never come. “And give up my bachelorhood? Never,” he said.

Tristan grinned. “I’ll remind you of that when I attend your wedding.”

Hawk changed the subject. “I take it your sister is well?” His mother planned to sponsor Lady Julianne this season while the
dowager duchess stayed in the country with her increasing daughter-in-law.


“Julianne is looking forward to the season, but there is a problem,” Tristan said. “A letter arrived from Bath half an hour
ago. Your grandmother is suffering from heart palpitations again.”


Hawk groaned. Grandmamma was famous for her heart palpitations. She succumbed to them at the most inconvenient times and described
them in minute, loving detail to anyone unfortunate enough to be in the general vicinity. Owing to Grandmamma’s diminished
hearing, this meant anyone within shouting range.


“Your mother and sisters are discussing who should travel to Bath as we speak,” Tristan said.

“Don’t worry, old boy. We’ll sort it out.” No doubt his sisters meant to flee to Bath, as they always did when his grandmother
invoked her favorite ailment. Usually his mother went as well, but she’d made a commitment to sponsor Julianne.


A peevish voice sounded from the landing. “Marc, you have dawdled long enough. Mama is waiting.”

Hawk glanced up to find his eldest sister, Patience, beckoning him with her fingers as if he were one of her unruly brats.
Poor Patience had never proven equal to her name, something he’d exploited since childhood. He never could resist provoking
her then, and he certainly couldn’t now. “My dear sister, I’d no idea you were so anxious for my company. It warms the cockles
of my heart.”


Her nostrils flared. “Our grandmother is ill, and Mama is fretting. You will not add to her vexation by tarrying.”

“Pour Mama a sherry for her nerves. I’ll be along momentarily,” he said.

Patience pinched her lips, whirled around, and all but stomped away.

Hawk’s shoulders shook with laughter as he returned his attention to his friend. “After dinner, we’ll put in a brief appearance
in the drawing room and make our escape to the club.”


“I’d better not. I’m planning to leave at dawn tomorrow,” Tristan said.

Hawk shrugged to hide his disappointment. He ought to have known the old boy meant to return to his wife immediately. Nothing
would ever be quite the same now that his friend had married. “Well, then, shall we join the others?”


As they walked up the stairs, Tristan glanced at him with an enigmatic expression. “It’s been too long since we last met.”

“Yes, it has.”

The last time was Tristan’s wedding nine months ago. He’d meant to visit the newlyweds after a decent interval. Then Tristan’s
letter had arrived with the jubilant news of his impending fatherhood.


Hawk’s feet had felt as if they were immersed in a bog.

After they entered the drawing room, Hawk halted. He was only peripherally aware of his sisters’ husbands scowling at him
from the sideboard. All his attention centered on a slender lady seated on the sofa between his mother and his youngest sister,
Hope. The candlelight gleamed over the lady’s jet curls as she gazed down at a sketchbook on her lap. Good Lord, could this
delectable creature possibly be Julianne?


As if sensing his stare, she glanced at him. He took in her transformation, stunned by the subtle changes. In the past nine
months, the slight fullness of her cheeks had disappeared, emphasizing her sculpted cheekbones. Even her expression had changed. Instead of her usual impish grin, she regarded him with a poised smile.


The sweet little girl he’d known all his life had become a woman. A heart-stopping, beautiful woman.

The sound of his mother’s voice rattled him. “Tristan, please be seated. Marc, do not stand there gawking. Come and greet
Julianne.”


Patience and his other sister Harmony sat in a pair of chairs near the hearth, exchanging sly smiles. No doubt they were hatching
a plot to snare him in the parson’s mousetrap. They probably thought he was as besotted as the numerous cubs who vied for
Julianne’s attention every season. But he was only a little taken aback by her transformation.


Determined to take himself in hand, he strode over to her, made a leg, and swept his arm in a ridiculous bow last seen in
the sixteenth century.


When he rose, his mother grimaced. “Marc, your hair is standing up. You look thoroughly disreputable.”

He grinned like a jackanapes. “Why, thank you, Mama.”

Julianne’s husky laugh drew his attention. He set his fist on his hip and wagged his brows. “No doubt you will break a dozen
hearts this season, Julie-girl.”


She regarded him from beneath her long lashes. “Perhaps one will capture my affections.”

Helen of Troy’s face had launched a thousand ships, but Julianne’s naturally raspy voice could fell a thousand men. Where
the devil had that foolish thought come from? She’d grown into a stunning young woman, but he’d always thought of her as the
little hoyden who climbed trees and skimmed rocks.


Hope stood. “Marc, take my seat. You must see Julianne’s sketches.”


He meant to make the most of the opportunity. For years, he’d teased Julianne and encouraged her in mischief. After sitting
beside her, he grinned and tapped the sketch. “What have you got there, imp?”


She showed him a sketch of Stonehenge. “I drew this last summer when I traveled with Amy and her family.”

“Stonehenge is awe-inspiring,” the countess said.

He dutifully looked on as Julianne turned the page. “Those are some big rocks.”

Julianne laughed. “Rogue.”

He tweaked the curl by her ear. When she swatted his hand, he laughed. She was the same Julie-girl he’d always known.

Heavy footsteps thudded outside the drawing room doors. Everyone stood as Lady Rutledge, his great-aunt Hester, lumbered inside.
Gray sausage curls peeked out from a green turban with tall feathers. She took one look at Hawk’s mother and scowled. “Louisa,
that statue is hideous. If you want a naked man, find yourself one who is breathing.”


Hawk’s mouth worked with the effort not to laugh out loud.

The countess fanned her heated face. “Hester, please mind your words.”

“Bah.” Hester winked at Hawk. “Come give your aunt a kiss, you rogue.”

When he obliged, she muttered, “You’re the only sensible one in the bunch.”

Tristan bowed to her. “Lady Rutledge.”

Hester eyed him appreciatively. “Shelbourne, you handsome devil. I heard you wasted no time getting your duchess with child.”


Hawk’s mother and younger sisters gasped. Patience cleared her throat. “Aunt Hester, we do not speak of such indelicate matters.”

Hester snorted and kept her knowing gaze on Tristan. “I heard your duchess has gumption. She’ll bring your child into the
world without mishap—mark my words.”


Hawk considered his wily old aunt with a fond smile. Eccentric she might be, but she’d sought to reassure his old friend.
And for that alone he adored her.


He led Hester over to a chair and stood beside her. Her wide rump barely fit between the arms. After adjusting her plumes,
she held her quizzing glass up to her eye and inspected Julianne.


“Aunt Hester, you remember Lady Julianne,” Patience said, as if speaking to a child. “She is Shelbourne’s sister.”

“I know who she is.” Hester dropped her quizzing glass. “Why are you still unwed, gel?”

Julianne blushed. “I am waiting for the right gentleman.”

“I heard you turned down a dozen proposals since your come-out. Is it true?” Hester continued.

“I’ve not kept count,” Julianne murmured.

Hester snorted. “There were so many you cannot recall?”

Noting Julianne’s disconcerted expression, Hawk intervened. “Mama, I understand we’ve a bit of a problem. Grandmamma is claiming
illness again, is she?”


His mother and sisters protested that they must assume Grandmamma was truly ill. Finally, Aunt Hester interrupted. “Oh, hush,
Louisa. You know very well my sister is only seeking attention.”


“Hester, how can you say such a thing?” the countess said.


“Because she makes a habit of it.” Hester sniffed. “I suppose you and your girls are planning to hare off to Bath on a fool’s
errand again.”


“We cannot take a risk,” Patience said. “If Grandmamma took a bad turn, we would never forgive ourselves.”

“She ought to come to town where she can be near the family. I offered to share my home with her, but she refuses to leave
her cronies in Bath,” Hester said.


“She is set in her ways.” Hawk grinned down at his aunt. “Few ladies are as adventurous as you.”

“True,” Hester said, preening.

The countess gave him a beseeching look. “Will you write William to inform him?”

“I’m not sure of his address at present,” Hawk said. His younger brother had been traveling on the Continent for more than
a year.


Montague, Patience’s husband, lowered his newspaper. “It’s past time William came home and stopped raking his way all over
the Continent. He needs to choose a career and be a responsible member of the family.”


Hawk regarded him as if he were an insect. “He’ll come home when he tires of wandering.” He’d hoped Will would return for
the London season, but his brother hadn’t written in over two months.


Montague folded his newspaper. “He’d come home soon enough if you cut him off without a penny.”

Hawk ignored his least favorite brother-in-law and returned his attention to his mother. “What of Julianne? Her brother brought
her all this way. Mama, can you not stay behind?”


“Oh, I could not ask such a thing,” Julianne said. “I can stay with either Amy or Georgette. My friends’ mothers would welcome
me, I’m sure.”


“Her friends’ mothers will be too busy with their own girls,” Hester said. “I will sponsor Julianne. She will be the toast
of the season.”


A long silence followed. Hawk’s mother and sisters regarded one another with barely concealed dismay. They thought Hester
a few cards shy of a full deck, but he knew his aunt was prodigiously clever, if a bit blunt in her manners.


The countess cleared her throat. “Hester, dear, that is too kind of you, but perhaps you have not thought of how exhausting
all those entertainments will be.”


“I’m never tired, Louisa,” she said. “I shall enjoy sponsoring the gel. She’s pretty enough and seems lively. I’ll have her
engaged in a matter of weeks.”


Hawk schooled his expression. Julianne married? It seemed so… wrong. Even though he knew it was customary for ladies to marry
young, the idea didn’t set well with him.


Tristan eyed Hester. “Granted, she’s been out four seasons, but marriage is for life. I’ll not rush her.”

Hester looked at Julianne. “How old are you, gel?”

“One and twenty,” she said.

“She’s of age, but I agree marriage should not be undertaken lightly,” Hester said.

Tristan regarded his sister. “I must approve any serious attachments.”

When Julianne rolled her eyes, Hawk grinned. He didn’t envy any man bold enough to ask Tristan’s permission for Julianne’s
hand. The old boy had kept a tight rein on her for years—as well he should.


“Now that the matter is settled, let us go to dinner,” Hester said. “I’m starved.”


After the ladies withdrew from the dining room, Hawk brought out the port. His sisters’ husbands exchanged meaningful glances.
Tristan kept silent but watched them with a guarded expression.


Montague folded his small hands on the table and addressed Hawk. “Lady Julianne cannot stay with Hester. Your aunt’s bold
manners and rebellious ideas would be a bad influence on the girl.”


Hawk met Tristan’s gaze. “Join me in the study?”

Tristan nodded.

They both rose. When Hawk claimed a candle branch from the sideboard, Montague scrambled up from the table. “Patience will
stay behind and look after Julianne.”


“My sister is determined to go to Bath,” Hawk said. “She will not rest easy unless she sees our grandmother is well.” The
last thing he wanted was to expose Julianne to his sister’s acrimonious marriage.


“You know very well your grandmother feigns illness,” Montague said. “If your mother and sisters refused to go, that would
put a stop to this nonsense.”


Hawk realized Montague had seized the opportunity to keep his wife at home. The man constantly queried Patience about her
whereabouts and upbraided her if she even spoke to another man. “I’ll discuss the matter with Shelbourne. Gentlemen, enjoy
your port.”


He started to turn away when Montague’s voice halted him.

“Damn you, Hawk. Someone needs to take responsibility for the girl.”

Hawk strode around the table and loomed over his brother-in-law. “You’ve no say in the matter.” Then he lowered his voice.
“You will remember my warning.”


Montague glared but held his tongue. Hawk gave him an evil smile. At Christmas, the man had made one too many disparaging
remarks about Patience. Hawk had taken him aside and threatened to beat him to a pulp if he ever treated her disrespectfully
again.


As he and Tristan strode away, Hawk muttered, “Bloody brute.”

“Montague resents your political influence, your fortune, and your superior height. He feels inferior and engages in pissing
matches to prove he’s manly.”


Hawk wished Montague to the devil. The man had campaigned for his sister’s hand and showered her with affection. He’d shown
his true colors shortly after the wedding.


When they walked into the study, the scent of leather permeated the room. Hawk set the candle branch on the mantel and slumped
into one of the cross-framed chairs before the huge mahogany desk. The grate was empty, making the room chilly. He never made
use of the study. Years ago, he’d taken rooms at the Albany. His family had disapproved, but he’d needed to escape his father’s
stranglehold.


Tristan surveyed the surroundings and sat next to Hawk. “The study is virtually unchanged since your father’s death.”

He’d died suddenly of a heart seizure eight years ago, closing off any chance of reconciliation between them. A foolish thought.
There was nothing he could have done to change his father’s opinion of him.


“Your father was a good man,” Tristan said. “His advice was invaluable to me.”


“He admired you,” Hawk said.

Tristan had single-handedly restored his fortune after discovering his late wastrel father had left him in monstrous debt.

“I envied your freedom,” Tristan said.

“I had an easy time compared to you.” Hawk’s father had never let him forget it, either. Unbidden, the words his father had
spoken more than a dozen years ago echoed in his brain. Do you even know how much it will cost to satisfy Westcott’s honor?

He mentally slammed the door on the memory. “Old boy, your sister may prefer to stay with one of her friends, but I advise
you to refuse if she wishes to stay with Lady Georgette. I heard a nasty rumor about her brother. Evidently, Ramsey got a
maid with child.” No honorable gentleman ever took advantage of servants.


Tristan’s face showed his revulsion. “Good Lord. He’s disgusting.”

“If you prefer, take your sister to Amy Hardwick’s mother.”

“No, your aunt is right. Mrs. Hardwick should concentrate on her own daughter.” Tristan frowned. “I cannot impose.”

Tristan probably felt a bit guilty because Amy and Georgette had devoted their entire season last year to his unusual courtship.
“My aunt is a cheeky old bird, but she’s harmless enough. Hester will enjoy squiring Julianne about town.”


Tristan glanced sideways at Hawk. “I’ve a favor to ask.”

A strange presentiment washed over Hawk. He’d known Tristan since they were in leading strings, because their mothers were bosom friends. At Eton, he and Tristan had banded
together to evade the older boys who liked to torment the younger ones. Hawk knew his friend well, but he’d no idea what Tristan
intended to ask of him.


Tristan drew in a breath. “Will you act as my sister’s unofficial guardian?”

Hawk laughed. “Me, a guardian? Surely you jest.”

“As soon as the fortune hunters discover I’m out of the picture, they’ll hover like vultures over Julianne. I won’t feel easy
unless a solid man is there to protect her from rakes.”


“But… but I’m a rake,” he sputtered. Of course, she’d blossomed into an uncommonly lovely young woman, but she was his friend’s
sister. Even among rakes, it was a point of honor to avoid friends’ sisters.


“You’ve watched my sister grow up the same way I have,” Tristan said. “She’s almost like a sister to you.”

He’d never thought of her that way. To him, she was simply Julie-girl, always ready for a bit of mischief. He never grew tired
of daring her to do something unladylike, but she’d never once backed down. “Old boy, you know I’m fond of her, but I’m not
fit to be anybody’s guardian.”


“You’ve always looked out for her,” Tristan said.

Guilt spurted in his chest. His own family thought him an irresponsible rogue, with good reason. He didn’t even know how to
locate his own brother. But clearly Tristan had complete faith in him.


Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should stay in London to watch over Julianne, but I cannot bear to leave my wife.
No matter what I do, I’ll feel as if I’ve wronged one of them.”


Ah, hell. Tristan had never asked for a favor before. He was like a brother to him. Damn it all. He couldn’t refuse. “Anything
for you, old boy.”


“Thank you,” Tristan said. “There’s one more thing. You’re not going to like it.”

He lifted his brows. “Oh?”

Tristan narrowed his eyes. “You will give up raking for the duration of the season.”

He laughed. “What?”

“You heard me. There will be no ballerinas, actresses, or courtesans. Call them what you will, but you will not associate
with whores while guarding my sister.”


He scoffed. “It’s not as if I’d flaunt a mistress in your sister’s face.”

“Your liaisons are famous.” Tristan tapped his thumb on the arm of the chair. “I’ve often suspected you delight in your bad
reputation.”


He made jests about his numerous mistresses. Everyone, including his friend, believed his tall tales. While he was a bona
fide rake, Hawk couldn’t possibly live up—or was that down?—to the exaggerated reports about his conquests. “I’ll not agree
to celibacy,” he said.


“You don’t even try to be discreet. Julianne adores you. I don’t want her disillusioned.”

“I’ll keep my liaisons quiet,” Hawk grumbled.

“Agreed,” Tristan said.

He’d better forget the ménage á trois with Nell and Nancy. It rather aggrieved him, since he’d never dallied with two women
at once, but he couldn’t possibly keep that sort of wicked business under the proverbial covers.


Tristan tapped his thumb again. “Write periodically and let me know how my sister fares.”

“I will,” Hawk said. “Don’t worry. Julianne will grow accustomed to my aunt’s blunt manners.”


“When the babe is born, bring my sister home to me.” He smiled. “Tessa already asked Julianne to be godmother. Will you be
godfather?”


A knot formed in his chest, but he forced a laugh. “You would trust a rogue like me with your child?”

“There is no one I trust more than you, my friend.”

Hawk cut his gaze away, knowing he didn’t deserve his friend’s regard.

A Lady’s Secrets of Seduction: When in doubt of his feelings, seek advice from your friends.

The next day at Hester’s town house

No one could resist Hawk. Not even the dogs.


Julianne laughed as the two King Charles spaniels abandoned Hester and the bits of cake she was feeding them. The bug-eyed
creatures’ tails wagged as they barked and ran circles around Hawk’s feet.


Hester clapped her hands. “Caro, Byron, cease!”

They whined and pawed him. “Mind the boots,” he said. Then he bent to ruffle their long fur. The two spaniels sat on their
haunches, panting with doggy ecstasy.


“You’ve managed to charm them,” Julianne said. “I’m quite jealous, you know. They are not nearly so fond of me.”

He looked up and winked. “Ah, but I am.”


His words cheered her. After not having seen him for nine long months, she’d worried that things might prove awkward between
them. Yesterday, they had been surrounded by so many others, and then he’d spent most of his time closeted in the study with
her brother. Today, however, she felt as if the months had melted like snow.


Hester shifted on a red sofa with two horrid, gilded sphinxes rising up from the armrests. “Well, Nephew, do you not have
a kiss for your aunt?”


With a slow grin, Hawk straightened his tall, powerful frame and approached her. Naturally, the dogs followed. After he deposited
a smacking kiss on his aunt’s powdered jowl, she tapped him with her fan. “Your cravat is crooked, and your hair is mussed.”


Julianne grinned. Only Hawk could make such careless attire seem boyishly handsome. As always, his unruly mahogany locks looked
windblown, a consequence of his tendency to twirl his top hat rather than wear it.


“You’ve not seen my drawing room since I made it over last season,” Hester said. “I’ve developed a passion for the Egyptian
style.”


He strolled over to a glass case. Then he regarded Julianne over his shoulder with a devilish expression. “Aunt, is the mummy
authentic?”


“It is a reproduction,” Hester said. “But the ornamented scrolls on the ceiling are true antiquities.”

Julianne bit back a smile at the hideous décor. Golden pharaoh statues, pyramids, and urns cluttered the numerous black tables.
Many of the furnishings featured enormous clawed feet. Fortunately, Hester had shown her to a sedate bedchamber early this
morning. Julianne had almost wilted with relief. Dear God, she’d feared she would have to sleep among mummies.


“Do be seated,” Hester said to Hawk.

The dogs followed him to the sofa where Julianne sat. Hawk regarded the dogs and pointed at the carpet. “Sit.”

The spaniels complied and lolled their tongues.

“You’ve made a conquest of my pets,” Hester said.

He slouched beside Julianne. “Alas, I fear Byron has a prior claim on Caro’s affections. My heart is broken.”

Julianne rolled her eyes, but truthfully, she’d missed his silly jests. During the long months of autumn and winter, she’d
held out hope that he would visit her family. He’d never stayed away so long before. She’d agonized over his absence and feared
he’d formed an attachment with someone else. Last night, Patience had whispered she hoped to call her sister soon. Julianne’s hopes had soared, knowing his family would approve.


Hawk’s voice startled her. “Your brother left early this morning as planned?”

She nodded. “Your mother and sisters departed at the same time.” Of course, her brother had given her all sorts of dire warnings.
But when he’d hugged her, she’d known he’d only lectured her because he worried about her.


Hester eyed Julianne. “Will you serve tea?”

She rose and walked over to the tray. Hawk and the dogs followed. When she sliced a generous portion of cake, he broke off
a piece and ate it before she could set it on the plate. “Mmmm. Breakfast.”


“It’s well past noon, you heathen,” she said.

“The usual waking hour for a gentleman of leisure.” He winked as he sucked a crumb off his finger.

She couldn’t breathe. An image popped into her head of Hawk taking her face in his hands. She imagined his lips descending to hers. More than a few of her beaux had tried to
kiss her, but she’d never let them. She wanted to save all her kisses for Hawk.


Her thoughts whirled as she poured tea. Although she had no experience, she’d seen her brother kiss his wife, Tessa, swiftly
on the lips more than a few times. Julianne had thought their kissing sweet. Once, however, she’d gone back to the drawing
room to retrieve her novel and saw Tessa sitting on Tristan’s lap. They were kissing with their tongues. Shocked, she’d fled
before they saw her.


Hawk took the teacup from her, drained every last drop, and set it aside. She laughed. “More?”

“No, thank you.”

She poured a cup for Hester and