Scoundrel of Dreams by Keta Diablo
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
All I can say is, "Yummy, Yummy, Yummy!"
The author weaves another tale filled with passion, lust, and heat! I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Bridger and Lydia. Keta really knows how to make you relate to the characters and the ending of Bridger and Lydia's story, as with the other books, makes you gasp and go, "Oh NO!"
Thankfully the other couple in the story, Lilly and Briggs, give you the ending that makes all books worthwhile. A++ for making me love your characters!
You have to read an excerpt to understand why I love the book so much!
Excerpt:
The door handle turned and then the
massive panel crawled open. Lydia held her breath, and with document in hand,
tucked her arm behind her back. Under the dim light in the room, the outline of
a man’s body came into view. Too tall and much too solidly built to be her
father. God’s teeth, had the intruder locked the door behind him?
"Good evening, Miss Lydia,"
the cool voice said.
"You! How dare you enter my
father’s study. Who do you think you are sneaking in here like a thief in the
night?"
He stepped toward her with ease and
agility. "I could ask the same of you." A smirk curled his wide,
generous mouth. "Instead, I think I shall ask you what you are hiding
behind your back."
"None of your business, Bridger
Cantrell."
"Ah, so you do remember me?"
"I remember you broke Rose Ann’s
heart when you cast her aside like last week’s rubbish."
Had a moment of guilt passed through
those cerulean eyes? "Yes, I regret that happened." The sneer returned.
"However, I saw her moments ago on Enoch Forster’s arm and she looked
anything but despondent."
A brief moment of anger flared in her
chest. "I imagine you like to think women never recover from your absence?
I assure you Mister Cantrell, Rose Ann’s tears lasted no more than one
day."
He bowed at the waist. "I’m
relieved to hear it." Upon straightening, he advanced again. "Now,
the document you are trying to hide…I will see it."
Wiggling past the corner of the desk,
she retreated toward the sitting area. If he intended to assault her, she could
pound on the window, hope some of their guests seated on the wide verandah
outside would hear her screams.
Dogging her heels, he forced her to
face him again. He stood so close, she saw every feature of his face, the
storm-filled eyes fringed with thick, black eyelashes, the straight
aristocratic nose and carved cheekbones. His hair fell past his chiseled jaw
bone and came to rest on the collar of his white linen shirt. His mouth was
full and entirely too kissable. His beauty was ethereal. She could think of no
other word for it.
For a moment, she lapsed into a
fantasy, imagined him claiming her lips with fierce determination. It had to be
the wine taking over the sane part of her brain.
Get
a hold of yourself, Lydia.
His distinct scent assailed her
senses, a mixture of tobacco, leather and the pure scent of pine trees. Her
head swam and waves of dizziness washed over her. She should not have indulged
in her father’s port, not while Bridger Cantrell stood but inches away from
her. She had never swooned in her life, but then, she had never swilled down
several glasses of spirits in such short order either.
Her throat went dry. "The paper
is no concern of yours."
His hand came out. "I’ll be the
judge of that."
Cornered like a weasel, she had no
choice but to drop the invitation into his hand. She studied him, waiting for
his reaction. Would he be disappointed the document once he realized the
document was useless to him? Worse, would he tell her father he found her
snooping through his desk? She did not have to wait long for an answer.
Low-voiced, his expression gave
nothing away. "Why were you attempting to steal this?"
"Ha! I would have succeeded had
you not broken in."
"I did not need to break
in."He tucked the paper into his high-top Hessian boots. "Some
gray-eyed cat burglar beat me to it. Now answer the question."
"Give that back this
instant!" She flung herself at him and beat on his chest. "You have
no need of it and I…I must have it back!"
Strong arms gripped her shoulders. He
set her back and looked into her eyes, his calm demeanor setting her already
frayed nerves on edge. "Tell me why you must have it and I might take
mercy on you."
"You…you what! You might take
mercy on me! Oh, you black-hearted cad. Everything they say about you is true,
wholly, completely true."
Dropping his arms, his face morphed
into a sneer. "Pray tell, Miss Slayton, what does the snobbish elite, the
self-righteous echelon of Savannah say about me?"
At last she had pierced his cold
heart, and she didn’t intend to stop now. "That you are a notorious rake,
a lowdown bounder and…."
"And?"
She met his aloof stare. "The
highwayman."
His eyes widened and he barked a
laugh.
"Are you?"
Below the surface, tension simmered
between the inches separating them. He trailed a finger down her cheek.
"Does the thought excite you, little she-cat? If so, I might be compelled
to lie."
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