Lady Isobel carries a deeply guarded secret, one she has never revealed to another soul…
Logan has managed to keep together what is left of his Clan after the Scottish defeat at Culloden, but at what cost? His wife is taken from him as a hostage, but now he wants his beloved wife returned to him. The last thing he needed or expected was to find the woman he loves accused of murder.
After Isobel’s sudden disappearance, Claudia and her friends, all wives belonging to loving, yet masterful husbands, become embroiled in another adventure that takes them headlong into danger. Can these naughty and intrepid ladies of the ton avoid their stern husbands? Will their men catch up with their wayward wives before disaster strikes?
This is book five in the Masterful Husbands series and can be enjoyed independently.
Publisher’s Note: This historical, new beginnings romance contains elements of action, adventure, mystery, suspense, second-chance love, sensual scenes, adult themes, and power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
“What of my age?” she asked hotly.
“Eek!” she squeaked. Without warning he yanked her down onto the bed beside him. He cupped her face firmly between his calloused palms and kissed her, his lips firm and demanding, his taste achingly familiar.
She had not thought she would react as she had done when she was still young, yet she combusted, desire sweeping her body, raging out of control like a forest fire, as his mouth plundered hers.
His tongue seared her skin as he trailed his lips over her neck, nipping and tasting her flesh all the way to the mounds of her breasts. She arched, moaning inarticulately as he latched onto a taut, dusky nipple.
“I’ll never know or understand what it is between us, lassie, but I thank the Lord, ‘tis still so,” he murmured appreciatively.
“Log-an!” she just managed to breath out his name. It was all she was capable of as he changed direction in order to succour the needy peak of her other breast. Sheer lust took hold.
“Wheesht,” he bade her settle, and continued the onslaught with his mouth. Down over the sloping curves of her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. Wantonly she parted her legs unable to control her body’s natural reaction to his unspoken command. After all, he was her liege. No other commanded her as he did. No other engulfed her senses, vanquishing everything but her need for him, overwhelming her with his passion. He was the only man who had ever spoken directly to her soul. By God, she had missed him. How had she survived in her twilight world, so far removed from her soul mate? They had been parted too long. An eternity had passed since she had last lain with him.
Would he notice her slack skin and padded hips, the silver lacing her hair?
His mouth found her core, her legs locked stiffly at her knees with delight. She groaned, feeling the huff of his chuckle against her sensitive flesh. She had thought herself immune to the delights of the body now that she was entering her later years, but Logan was proving how wrong her assumption had been.
A spiralling tension began deep in her womb, a tightening of tendons throughout her body caused her to bow, marking the rise to a crest that bloomed, spreading, until she released with a keening cry against his mouth.
Her eyes fluttered open as she floated back to reality. His face appeared close in her vision. She noticed an abundance of tiny lines either side of his eyes and even deeper grooves running from nose to mouth. She could clearly see he’d aged, yet her reaction to him still ignited a desire which spanned thirty years, most of that time they’d been forced to live separate lives. Isobel knew she could not allow herself to be parted from him again. To lose him again would kill her.
Lost in Logan’s pewter gaze, she silently avowed she would never return to England. She had been held hostage there for most of her life. Now that she had returned to the land of her birth, she refused to be severed from his side.
She felt the stretch of his cockhead as he eased himself inside her. She had enjoyed coupling with her English husband but he had not been as well-endowed as Logan. How she had missed this feeling of fullness; of being stretched as she was taken by her man.
Thrusting upward to claim her as his, for the first time in twenty long years, his gaze never wavered from hers as he entered her. Tears slipped from her eyes as he seated himself deeply within. One word alone echoed through her head as the joy of his possession splintered through years of painful segregation. Home… she was home.
They reached their completion together; their cries rang out their reunion, marking the distress at those wasted years spent apart. Then he traced her features with his finger and kissed away her tears with a tenderness which moved her. He took her again, slowly, gently, muttering words and whispered promises to her in Gaelic.