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144 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 11, 2012




She fumbled for the door latch and wrenched it open. A strong masculine hand covered hers, pushing the door closed.
"You don't want to leave," he said calmly. "Not yet."
Eliza stared up at him, horrified. "I assure you I do."
...
She cast a beseeching look at the door latch. "Mr. Wright, please. Won't you let me out?"
He didn't answer. Not with words. He simply turned the key in the door lock, removed it, and stashed it away in his waistcoat pocket.
She was trapped.
"Why would you do that?" she asked, staring up at the locked door.
"Because you don't want to go." His voice was darkly sweet and so forbidden, like rum. "You want to stay here with me a little longer."
"Now then. Let's have a look."
Eliza jerked the muslin from his grasp. "Absolutely not."
"But you're injured."
"I'm not dead," she whispered. "Which is what I'd have to be, to permit you to lift my skirts."
His hand slid beneath the frail fabric, grazing her stockinged ankle. A caress as shocking in its familiarity as in its boldness. He touched her easily, without excuse or apology. As though she were his for the touching.
He came to stand before her. "I want you to know that there's someone who sees you. The real you. The girl who can't bring herself to plait her hair at night, because it pains her vanity... The girl who's clever enough to recognize a dangerous man when she sees one--but desperately wants him to kiss her anyway."
She lifted her eyes to his and placed a hand to his cheek. "And you must stay alive, Harry. I don't care if you come back changed or wounded, just so long as you come back. I'll wait for you."
He shook his head sternly. "Don't say that. Don't wait for me, Eliza. You're young and lively and beautiful, and once this house emerges from mourning, every unmarried buck in your youth will be vying for your attention. I want you to have your youth, even if you never have that debut. When I'm cold and shivering a thousand miles away, it would kill me to think of you waiting. I want to think of you dancing. Laughing. Driving wild and fast through the park."
"What happened to 'I'll wait for you, Harry.'"
"What happened to, 'Don't wait for me Eliza?'" She stared at him, wide eyed with amusement. "You told me you'd never marry me. You told me we had no future."
"Yes but you weren't supposed to believe me..."


Eliza Cade is a passionate and, slightly, reckless young miss. And, because of one tiny bad decision, her father has declared that she can’t debut until all three of her older sisters have. Miss Eliza is the wildcard of the family and her papa doesn’t want her to ruin her siblings marriage prospects.
Which probably means she should stay far, far away from Harry Wright. Because Mr. Wright is a rogue and a spendthrift. To be caught alone with him is tantamount to utter ruin. So, naturally, Eliza finds herself alone with him... quite often.
But there is not a thing wrong about that Mr. Wright. Except, maybe, that he is deliciously naughty and always says exactly what's on his mind. And has made me fall for him head over slippers. I’m telling you, I’d give my left arm for Harry Wright!
All puns aside, I very much enjoyed the passage of time woven into this novella. The different circumstances that Eliza and Harry continue to meet under. And how he riles her up as much as he heats her up... and then leaves her wanting. But don’t worry, Miz Eliza returns the favor in spades!
The Scandalous, Dissolute, No-Good Mr. Wright (say that three times fast!) may not be a part of the Spindle Cove world, but it has definitely helped tide me over until Any Duchess Will Do. I love historical romance—and Miz Dare always delivers greatness!
Favorite Quote:
The devil also looked weary. Fatigued by the world—and strangely vulnerable, this close. The devil put silver threads in his sin-black hair. Just a few, so a girl could only see them if she happened to draw imprudently near. He wore his cravat mussed, tempting feminine hands to put it straight.
Eliza’s nursemaid had it all wrong. The devil didn’t entice with perfection. He seduced with flaws.
His green, hungry gaze didn’t say, Follow me into perdition.
It said, Only you can save me from it.