“Take one step, and I’ll toss your clothes on the fire!”
“What’s gotten into you, woman?” A grimace of pain twisted Thorn’s features as he lurched to his feet. “You’re not my mother, for pity’s sake. You don’t even want to be my mistress anymore. So leave off trying to coddle me.”
He tried to take the threatened step, but the strength of his legs clearly failed to match the strength of his will. He staggered toward Felicity, who mustered all her strength to push him back onto his bed. At the last instant, his hand closed around her wrist and pulled her down on top of him.
The indignation she tried to summon melted like summer hail.
A bewildering sense of completeness stole over her as the fleet skip of her heart tangled with the strong, swift beat of Thorn’s until it became one thrilling, intricate rhythm…!
Praise for bestselling author DEBORAH HALE’s latest titles
Whitefeather’s Woman
“This book is yet another success for Deborah Hale.
It aims for the heart and doesn’t miss.”
—The Old Book Barn Gazette
The Wedding Wager
“…this delightful, well-paced historical
will leave readers smiling and satisfied.”
—Library Journal
A Gentleman of Substance
“This exceptional Regency-era romance
includes all the best aspects of that genre….
Deborah Hale has outdone herself…”
—Romantic Times
#640 THE FORBIDDEN BRIDE
Cheryl Reavis
#641 DRAGON’S DAUGHTER
Catherine Archer
#642 HALLIE’S HERO
Nicole Foster
Lady Lyte’s Little Secret
Deborah Hale
Available from Harlequin Historicals and DEBORAH HALE
My Lord Protector #452
A Gentleman of Substance #488
The Bonny Bride #503
The Elusive Bride #539
The Wedding Wager #563
Whitefeather’s Woman #581
Carpetbagger’s Wife #595
The Love Match #599
“Cupid Goes to Gretna”
Border Bride #619
Lady Lyte’s Little Secret #639
To Graham McDonald,
nuclear engineer, rock climber
and all-around answer to a maiden’s prayer,
as well loved by his sisters as Thorn Greenwood.
Nobody deserves a “happily ever after” more than you,
Big Red!
Contents
Chapter One
Bath, England
May 1815
“Felicity!”
The sound of her name, bellowed in a resonant masculine voice from the entry hall of her Bath town house, roused Lady Felicity Lyte from a restless doze.
It must be after midnight. What could Thorn be doing here at this unholy hour?
Not that Mr. Hawthorn Greenwood was a stranger to Number 18 Royal Crescent after dark. Quite the contrary. A mere two nights ago, at this very hour, he had been warming the bed beside her, serenely unaware that his days as her lover were numbered.
Until this moment, she’d had no communication with him concerning the polite note in which she’d terminated their discreet love affair.
Off in the distance, Thorn roared her name again. Felicity heard his footsteps thunder up the stairs. Her pulse fluttered in her throat, as she threw off the bedclothes and groped for her dressing gown.
She’d never heard Thorn Greenwood raise his voice. Nor move with anything but quiet, temperate steps. The racket of his current approach frightened Felicity just a little—and stirred her a great deal.
The man must be well-foxed, she decided as she thrust her arms into the sleeves of her dressing gown and fumbled in the dark to tie the sash. Had he fortified himself at some fashionable drinking establishment, then come here intent on begging her to take him back? Perhaps to demand some better account of why she’d decided to cast him off so abruptly?
The notion that he cared enough to demand or beg anything gave Felicity a queasy sensation that was not altogether unpleasant. Rather like looking out at a breathtaking