IT WASN'T THE EARLY morning sun streaming into the room through the gap in the cream coloured curtain that awoke Cole Fletcher. Rather, it was the warm sizzling feeling down his loins that did. Cole opened his eyes and the first thing he noticed was the scantily clad bottom of his wife, pressed to his thigh. Cole groaned at the sight of that. No wonder he had been feeling that bolt of warmth in his sleep, thinking he was in the arms of his mistress and his face buried in her breast only for him to wake up and discover the feeling of lust had been elicited by his conniving wife, and she wasn't even aware! A dark ferocious look crept up his face as he felt her stir restlessly in her sleep, trying to find a better position, jutting her derrière to his laps. Cole's groin reacted to that. Emily was a terrible sleeper. Concluded he. He wanted to entangle himself from her but realized there was no wa

It was a hard fit for Cole to keep his face indifferent as he soundlessly slipped out the bed. Padding the floors of the room in bare feet. His hands clenched by his side. He must have been stupid to think he could arouse Emily without being affected, Cole thought with a bitter smile. Gritting his teeth, he cursed silently.  Hoping Emily wouldn't have any need to look at him and notice the force of his arousal, pushing through the seams of his breeches as he made his way to where he had deposited all his clothes last night.Reaching under the chair, Cole roughly snatched his boots from there and wore it. The way he did it, one might think the poor thing had offended him. He did the same with his shirt, snatching it from the back of the chair. It's a wonder it did not snap into two.There was one word for what Cole was feeling at that time and that was frustration. Even though he dare not name it for what it was. Hurriedly Cole stepped out of th

London, England.  August, 1832 IT HAS BEEN exactly one year since the Earl of Tonfield left his wife at the foot of Blakewood Manor. One might think the time spent apart might have softened his stance on the whole event, but no. There was still some lingering resentment. During that time, the earl had focused on his estate, stables, and all other things, deliberately putting his wife aside. Out of sight, out of mind, and he had been successful until now. Cole Fletcher grabbed his quizzing glass from his drawer and held it over the paper before him. The lights from the candles emitting a low brilliant glow on the ink-stained paper. Against his better judgement, he felt himself smile, as his eyes came to rest on the outrageous price scribbled neatly on the top to bottom of the bill. Cole traced the sum with his finger and laughed out loud. A smile stealing the curve of his lips to one side.  

THE DINING ROOM at Tonfield hall, like every other thing in the house, reflected wealth and elegance. A testament to the fact the earl was worth forty-five thousand pounds a year. The room which was draped in red velvet, marble, and gold was illuminated by a chandelier, hanging over their heads like a blanket of light, creating a soft warm glow on the dining table and all other places forgotten by the candelabra.Cutleries clinked and clanged on simple ceramics as quiet conversions filled the room. The guests helping themselves to different assorted foods placed in front of them and those that weren't within reach were passed around by the footmen. However, sitting at the foot of the long table was lord Tonfield. His long slim fingers holding a pair of silverware in a death grip, wishing it was someone's wrist. Rows of even white teeth clenched tightly behind pursed lips.The Earl was beyond angry, and he knew that. With the way things were progressing, he wasn't even

COLE AWOKE TO A BLINDING light and a soft sheet beneath him. With a groan, he rolled to the side to avoid the offending sun. Gently he pried his eyes open, but found himself in his room rather than his study where he had fallen asleep last night. Confused how he got there in the first place Cole sits up and was confronted with the strangest thing ever.  As a young boy who had loved his room. Cole had gladly maintained it when he grew up and became an adult and would like to think he would recognize it anytime, anywhere. However, looking at the decor before him Cole felt like he had just stepped into another room. In pale blue paint and floral patterns of dark blue, orange, and brown, the room outrageously feminine. Not a room he would have dreamed of finding himself in. With a curse, Cole swung off the bed and ran a hand over his thick black mane. What the hell was this? Had the servants made a mistake in placing hi