By Mary Jo Putney
A funky grasp of sensuality, Rafael Whitbourne, the Duke of Candover, earned his rakish recognition within the silken boudoirs of London’s highborn girls, by no means gifting away his hand or his middle.
Then an important project for his executive takes Rafe to Paris to paintings with the Countess Madga Janos, “the most lovely undercover agent in Europe.” he's appalled to find that the smoky eyed temptress is not any Hungarian countess, however the deceitful doxie who betrayed him a dozen years earlier—the simply lady he ever enjoyed, and the one one he’s ever despised.
Margot Ashton wishes not anything greater than to stroll clear of her turbulent previous and the spell binding guy who ruined her lifestyles. yet patriotism binds them jointly in a shadowland of intrigue the place a diabolical plot may well plunge a continent again into war—and a whirlwind of ardour sweeps Margot and Rafe right into a shattering ardour that can not be denied.
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Additional info for Petals in the Storm (Fallen Angels, Book 2)
He had enjoyed Margot Ashton with uncritical adoration, awed and humble lady who may have her collection of London's such a lot eligible males had selected him. they'd behaved discreetly in public on the grounds that their engagement have been unannounced, yet he had spent each attainable second together with her. She had appeared as satisfied in his corporation as he was once in hers. Then had come that deadly bachelor get together in June. He may bear in mind the identify of each younger guy within the crew that evening, may well remember with excruciating accuracy how Oliver Northwood had drunkenly defined relieving a woman of her undesirable virginity within the backyard in the course of a ball a few days previous. Rafe had scarcely paid cognizance, till the tip, whilst Northwood had allow slip the girl's identify: Margot Ashton. many of the younger males have been admirers of Margot, and after a shocked second, one in every of them had shushed Northwood, asserting that it used to be ungentlemanly to talk so of a tender woman. however the harm had already been performed. not anyone current knew of the engagement, so that they idea not anything of it whilst Rafe excused himself a couple of minutes later. the fairway tinge of his face was once attributed to the amount of claret he had inebriated, and he used to be forgotten once he left the room. outdoors, Rafe had made it no farther than the road while he fell to his knees and started retching. Feeling as though his very guts could spew out, he considered Margot's physique below that drunken sot, her complete lips kissing his, her lengthy legs entwined ... The imaginative and prescient had burned on his mind with nauseating readability. He had no concept how lengthy it was once sooner than somebody stated, "You alright, lad? i'm going to name a chair for you. " The Samaritan helped him to his ft, yet Rafe had refused additional relief, heading blindly down the road as though he may outrun his mind's eye. He had spent the remainder of the evening jogging the streets of London, heedless of his path. greater than as soon as lurkers within the shadows thought of the richness of his dresses, balanced it opposed to the expression on his face, and made up our minds to allow him proceed unmolested on his trip. The younger gentleman will be worthy a beautiful penny, yet his lifeless grey eyes threatened catastrophe to any thief silly sufficient to aim to assemble it. unavoidably, he had ended up at Margot's condo early the subsequent morning, earlier than she left for her sunrise journey. that they had no longer deliberate to satisfy, yet he had joined her unannounced earlier than. She had greeted him with pride regardless of his raveled night dresses. An emerald-colored veil had floated over her wheat gold hair as she danced around the salon for a welcoming kiss, her changeable eyes eco-friendly within the early morning, her giggling face brimming with lifestyles. Rafe had pulled violently away, not able to endure her contact. Then he informed her what he had realized, heaping abuse on her golden head. He knew her passionate nature, and merely his idealistic wish to deliver her a virgin to the wedding mattress had avoided him from taking what she had so casually given to a different guy. what percentage others had there been? She used to be a lot wanted; had he been the single one too silly to pattern her luscious flesh?