Rugged Gentleman Novels & Stories

He keeps it bottled up inside, but he never loses his total masculine composure as a son of a Lord who has real estates-hectares of land that served as farmlands and treasures worth a lot of money from trade with British foreigners. He does not lose his composure even if he is feeling something terrible; he would never want to tarnish his image as a cultured and educated gentleman who walks the grass fields and streets with heavenly finesse, like a woman's elegant dress and soft hair, swaying along with the subtle wind in the start of springtime, the month of the cool climate of April. He is restless, as he is holding his stomach-trying to keep everything in. A guy is in disorder, scandalous

I looked up at the sky and could see stars through the light pollution. As if reading my thoughts, an elderly gentleman came outside just moments after me, holding a cigar between his teeth. He spoke with a soft accent, "It's rather chilly tonight, is it not?" I turned around, looking him over. "It most certainly is." He was of Asian descent, with long grey hair and a beard that matched, yet he was youthful looking for his age. His eyes were as black as night, and glimmered with the confidence of a man who knew how to wield power. He was wearing a suit similar to mine, with the same expensive sheen to it. There were golden rings on his fingers that suggested wealth.

Asher turned the moment he saw her and smiled, that soft, knowing kind of smile that tugged at her chest. “There she is,” he said warmly, motioning her over. Vera walked up slowly, tucking her hands behind her back as her eyes shifted between Asher and the man beside him. The gentleman was tall and lean despite his age, with steel gray hair and a matching mustache, dressed in a charcoal golf vest and slacks. There was something distinctly aristocratic about him, the kind of man who had been born into money and molded by decades of wielding power. “Asher, are you trying to throw me off my game by bringing a beautiful distraction to our meeting?” the man joked with a rich baritone voice.

It has not been taken care of recently. I looked at Ryan standing behind the door. He is wearing his Khaki color suit. He preferred his dresses a little loose unlike Alexander whose body is hugged by the piece of fabrics which reveal all the shapes of muscles bulging out perfectly. It made me think of that same body which is a little thin and has many scars now. I forced myself not to think of them anymore. They are melting me now. Ryan looked at me and smiled while setting his collar.

BOOK FIVE: His Wicked Embrace League Rule Number 11: A man should remember from time to time to be a gentleman, even if he thinks he may have forgotten how. Excerpt from the Quizzing Glass Gazette, April 28, 1821, the Lady Society column: Lady Society is quite curious about a certain gentleman named Mr. Lawrence Russell. His elder brother, the Marquess of Rochester, is quite infamous indeed as a member of the League of Rogues, but as for Mr. Russell himselfthe rumors abound.

His stomach hurts so much. He sat down on a sofa, he picked out a cigar and lited it. His legs were crossed while he smoke, He had a belt around his trim waist and his top hugged his body revealing a huge collarbone. His Adam apple bobbled sexily and his entire presence exuding an indescribable masculinity and charming. He is so Damm sexy, he exuded a perfect gentleman and woman could go crazy seeing him like this. A moment later, Butler Ji won walked up to him, he bow in respect. Butler Ji won is the man steward of old master Lin, he knows practically everything about him.

Not that anyone in their right mind would mess with Ryder. He looks like he was born to survive the end of the world in one piece. He's wearing faded jeans, black combat boots, a tight-fitting black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. There is a thigh holster for his handguns on each leg, and there's a hunting knife in a sheath on his belt. He should look like a cliché Rambo, but he doesn't. He just looks like a muscular hero. He catches me admiring him, and before I look away, I swear I see a faint reddish tinge to his cheeks. "Like what you see?" he asks, playing off his obvious embarrassment.

Outside, city lights twinkled like stars against the night sky's dark canvas. A man reclined in the chair, dressed impeccably in a dark green seven-star uniform, exuding timeless elegance. His posture was relaxed yet poised, one leg crossed casually over the other, revealing polished military boots that gleamed in the ambient light. The fabric of his suit caught the light with a subtle sheen, accentuating his lean physique and quiet charisma. This man was Alexander Ariston. Over the years, he had grown colder and more dangerous, his mere presence suffocating to those around him. There were few humans on Earth bold enough to cross paths with him.

His chest throbbed with a dull, agonizing ache, a constant reminder that his royal wolf core was completely shattered. Before Katherine could lunge, a sudden rustle of dead leaves broke the freezing silence from the eastern edge of the clearing. A figure stumbled out from behind a massive, twisted black tree. He looked like a ghost. He wore torn, filthy leather armor that hung loosely off his gaunt frame. His hair was long, matted with dirt and dried mud, and a thick, unkempt beard covered his hollow cheeks. His left leg dragged slightly as he walked, leaning heavily on a notched wooden spear. He smelled of cheap moonshine, wild damp earth, and the bitter scent of a rogue wolf who had been l

"I noticed this earlier - most of the rogues carry similar looking tattoo, like a snake around a torch." Reed pondered for a moment, "That's not the emblem of Zenon." he scrunched up his nose, tracking an incoming scent, "Someone's coming." As soon as they looked towards the northern end of the clearing, they saw an old wolf, looking rather frail. Its dusty brown coat looked slightly unkempt, grey hair covered its snout and forehead. Fifty yards before the hut, it transformed into its human form - an older gentleman who carried this mysterious aura. Despite his wrinkled skin and frail appearance, his muscles were well defined and his messy brown hair had some grey streaks jutting out here an