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- Herausgeber: Lauren Smith
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
British boy meets American girl…prepare for one heck of a love revolution!
Enjoy four novels in the sizzling Love in London series:
Forbidden – A kiss on a snowy night with a tall, darkly handsome British stranger changes American college student Kat’s life forever. But there’s more to her sexy stranger than she ever could have imagined, like the fact that he’s a future earl. Yet she can’t say no to him when he flashes those green eyes at her and kisses her…
Seduction – Tristan can’t believe the American girl he’s fallen head over heels in love with is going to be his new stepsister. And his father, a powerful earl, won’t let his heir date just anyone, especially an American who doesn’t fit his father’s idea of a proper bride. He’ll risk it all to be with Kat even if it means facing his father’s wrath when the paparazzi discover his and Kat’s secret love affair.
Climax – Tristan and Kat have made their choice: they can’t be together. Too much is at stake after Tristan’s father threatens to destroy all they both hold dear. Yet as Tristan faces Christmas alone without the girl who holds his heart, he decides to go after her, even though it might cost him everything…even his life.
Forever Be Mine – Carter Martin, best friend to Tristan, a future earl, has never been rich or titled. He’s had to work hard for everything he’s ever had, but there’s one thing, he’ll never be able to have, and that’s Celia Lynton’s heart. As the daughter of an earl, she’s far above his social reach, yet whenever he touches her, flames ignite and things get out of control. When she begs him to come with her for a month long trip to Italy, he knows he’ll never be able to go back to living without. But how will he convince her that their forbidden love is worth fighting for?
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Seitenzahl: 876
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Love in London
BOOKS 1-4
LAUREN SMITH
Contents
Forbidden
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Seduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Climax
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Forever Be Mine
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Forbidden Copyright © 2016 by Lauren Smith
This book was Previously Published in 2016 by Hachette Book Group USA and is now republished by Lauren Smith Books in 2018
Cover design by Cover Couture
Stock Photography: Depositphotos/Yurkaimmortal
Shutterstock/Olavs
Seduction Copyright © 2016 by Lauren Smith
This book was Previously Published in 2016 by Hachette Book Group USA and is now republished by Lauren Smith Books in 2018
Cover design by Cover Couture
Stock Photography: Shutterstock/prochasson frederic
Depositphotos/Yurkaimmortal
Climax Copyright © 2016 by Lauren Smith
This book was Previously Published in 2016 by Hachette Book Group USA and is now republished by Lauren Smith Books in 2018
Cover design by Cover Couture
Stock Photography: Shutterstock/Botond Horvath & Depositphotos/Yurkaimmortal
Forever Be Mine Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Smith
Cover design by Cover Couture
Photography by Lindee Robinson
Lauren Smith supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-952063-24-4 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-952063-25-1 (Trade paperback)
Forbidden
LOVE IN LONDON, BOOK 1
To the little pub just outside of Magdalene College, where the spark of so many stories was ignited.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank Claire for being my “go-to” gal for all things English. You’re a wonderful friend for putting up with my silly e-mails about how modern Brits would do or say things. For Amanda, Chrissy, Jeanne, Angela, Amy, and Liz, beta readers and good friends who always help me make my stories sparkle and shine.
ChapterOne
“Tonight is the start of my grand adventure. And since it’s my birthday, you guys are welcome to join in the fun.” Kat Roberts grinned as she spread out the folded piece of paper on the table so her friends Lacy and Mark could see.
They were nestled in the corner of the Pickerel Inn just outside Magdalene College in Cambridge, catching a brief break from studying for exams. The pub was full of other students, all enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the fish and chips the pub served late into the night.
“What on earth is that?” Lacy asked as she brushed her hair back from her face and peered at the list.
Kat tapped the paper. “A list of ten things every undergraduate should do while studying and living in Cambridge. Number one? Drink a glass of Nelson’s Revenge at the Pickerel Inn pub on Magdalene Street.”
Mark, Lacy’s boyfriend, chuckled. “Have too many Nelsons and he’ll definitely get his revenge. You Americans aren’t used to our stout ales.”
Kat was only half-listening as she studied the list, contemplating the other suggestions it gave. She’d moved to England in August to start college while her dad worked in London, and now more than ever she wanted to do something wild, something fun and crazy. Her parents had divorced when she was a kid, and she’d been living with her father, whose job entailed frequent corporate moves. She’d been too afraid to get close to people and break out of her shell. She didn’t want to make connections with people only to have to leave and never see them again. It reminded her too much of when her mother had left.
But that’s all changed. I’m finally living in one place for three years. I’m making friends here. Roots. For the first time I can really live.
Now she yearned for an adventure. She wasn’t used to being wild and crazy or doing things out of her comfort zone, but she wanted to be that way.
Baby steps, she had to remind herself. That’s why she’d picked this list from an online article about attending school in Cambridge. It had fun things for her to do. Things she might not have otherwise tried. Now that she’d settled into her classes and schoolwork, she could focus on enjoying the whole college experience. She’d picked an easy item from the list first—drinking a pint here at the Pickerel—but she’d work her way up to the bigger items soon.
Mark leaned forward, his elbows propped on the old wooden table. “Is this really all we get to do to help you celebrate your nineteenth birthday?”
“He’s right, Kat. We should be doing something really fun tonight. Like going clubbing!” Lacy curved her lips in a charming but teasing smile that under other circumstances would’ve made Kat laugh.
“Clubbing? Lacy, you know I can’t dance. I’d fall flat on my face. Maybe if I drink enough you can talk me into it.” Kat winked at her friend and gulped down more of the cider and beer blend she had ordered. It wasn’t strong, but she wanted to get warmed up before going for the Nelson’s Revenge.
Lacy grinned. “You’re officially nineteen, and as this is your first semester at college, we need to make something amazing happen. Leave high school behind. This is your chance. Let’s go dancing, meet some hot guys.” She jerked her head suggestively toward a nearby table where a group of decent-looking men were watching them, pints in hand and friendly smiles on their faces. She nudged Mark in the ribs. “Right?” She winked.
Mark put an arm around Lacy’s shoulders and shook his head, silently laughing. “You have a hot guy right here for you, no need to find a new one,” he teased.
Lacy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, for Kat. She needs some action.”
Kat couldn’t disagree. She’d never really dated in high school since she and her dad had moved every couple of years. Maybe Lacy was right. Now was the time to give it a try.
“First I’ll drink my pint, then I’ll work my way up to meeting hot guys. How’s that?”
Mark shook his head. “I think you’re underestimating your appeal. British blokes like me would love to date an American. You’ll have no trouble getting a guy.” He nodded at the same group of men his girlfriend had pointed out. “Start with them. They look nice enough, and if they aren’t, I’ll beat them up for you.” Mark put up his fists with a silly, goonish expression that made Kat and Lacy giggle.
Kat adored her new friends. She’d only known them since August, but something about them, their natural warmth, the way they opened up to her, made her feel like she’d known them for years.
Maybe it was the magic of the city, too. Ever since she’d come here for university, this little Elizabethan-era town had captivated her. Between the shops tucked in crooked, wandering alleys and the tolling bells of the various colleges throughout the day, Kat had been bewitched by this tiny part of the world. It was more of a home for her than any other place she’d ever lived.
“Well, don’t tell me you’re afraid to give it a go?” Mark laughed.
His brown eyes were dark and full of brotherly mischief, offering a friendship Kat hadn’t thought she’d find again since she’d left her last high school boyfriend behind. She and Ben had been good friends, more than she’d ever thought possible with a guy. Like him, Mark was easygoing, with a ready smile and a playful attitude that put her at ease.
She and Ben hadn’t been serious, and calling him a boyfriend was really more of a stretch. They’d hung out but never even kissed. When she’d confessed this to Lacy, her friend had gasped and immediately informed her that what she and Ben hadn’t been a “real” relationship.
Kat jerked herself out of the spiral her thoughts had taken and focused on her friends. She tipped back her drink and finished it. She couldn’t believe it was close to the end of November, and the term was winding down. As much as she’d enjoyed her classes, she was glad for the upcoming winter break. What better way to start the holidays than getting a jumpstart on her “Operation Adventure.”
When the front door of the pub suddenly opened, an icy wind cut through the cozy atmosphere of the building. Despite the dim gold light cast by the fixtures in the pub, Kat could see more than one person at the surrounding tables muttering, clutching at their coats and glancing toward the front door.
“Oh my,” Lacy murmured, her brown eyes all soft and dreamy as she stared at something behind Kat.
Mark coughed, catching Lacy’s attention, but Kat was already turning around in her seat. For some reason all of the breath left her body and she blinked, completely spellbound.
There, framed in the doorway, was a living, breathing god. When he closed the door behind him, snowflakes swirled and eddied around him, clinging to his dark hair and his black knee-length pea coat. He made her think of Hades, the dark god of the Netherworld, in search of his sweet, innocent lover Persephone.
Kat would never have thought she’d describe a man in such terms, but this man…oh yes, the description was perfect. So perfect it almost hurt to look at him. The kind of gorgeous that made a woman’s body respond instantly. A slow wave of heat overtook Kat as she stared at him, and she clamped her thighs together when a slow throb began to build in her lower abdomen.
Now that’s the sort of man I want to get involved with. One who would sweep me away, make me forget who I used to be, and show me who I might become. A woman who lives life on the edge, who explores dark passions and truly experiences life. The thought of being with a man like him…it felt right to want him.
The decent-looking guys a few tables away had nothing on this man. And that was just it: He was a man. Nothing about him screamed “college student.” The way he walked, in an almost predatory, graceful movement, sucked her in, and she couldn’t look away. He was the sort of man who would stop every woman in her tracks as he strode past, demanding their attention, their desire…
His eyes swept over the room, not even noticing her.
No surprise. She was just another undergraduate student bundled up in jeans, a thick sweater, and boots.
Not like him.
A pinch of pain in her chest made her set her cider down and blink rapidly. She’d never minded being invisible before, but looking at this sexy god of a man…she wanted to get his attention. It was a stupid, girlish feeling, but she wanted him to look her way, see her. The pull he had on her was strange, magnetic, like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was as though something inside her was pulling her toward him, erasing everything else around him.
Look my way, she silently begged.
But he didn’t. A knot of disappointment tightened in her chest. There was no way he’d ever notice her.
He’s way out of my league. We’re in different galaxies.
Even knowing this, she couldn’t stop looking at him. This man looked expensive, from his shiny, black boots to the sleek look of his trousers and coat. When her gaze locked on his face, she was lost in a study of him. His aristocratic features were stunning. The man had a jawline that looked like it had been cut from marble, and a straight patrician nose that created an aura of entitled ease. He knew he was attractive and exactly how his mere presence could affect a room.
The hint of an arrogant smile played upon his full, sensual lips, so faint that she wondered if she was imagining it. And there was something about how he surveyed the room, like a ruler among his subjects. It wasn’t surprising. Like King Arthur, but with dark, chocolate hair rather than fair. He was tall and lean with wide shoulders, and she could tell there were muscles beneath those fine clothes by the way the fabric clung to him. As he strode over to the bar and leaned against it to order a drink, the focus of the room went with him.
A stir of whispers started up a table behind Kat, Lacy, and Mark. A group of college students, three girls, were watching the new stranger, too. Their heads were bent together, and their hushed voices carried just enough that Kat caught snippets of their conversation.
“I think that’s….yes, I’m sure it’s him. You go, Talia, ask him…” one girl suggested.
“No way, if that’s who he is…He’d never…Too hot though right? I’d let him do anything to me…” More giggles. “Can you imagine having sex with him? I heard he’s a god in bed. I’d like Mr. Sexy to take me home.”
The third girl fanned herself. “He’s got a bad reputation, though…total heartbreaker. Never dates, only fucks them, you know…but I’ll be damned if I don’t want to…”
The conversation was muffled when a waiter delivered the girls more beers, and Kat couldn’t hear anything else. So whoever Mr. Sexy was…these girls knew him or knew of him. And he had a bad reputation? What kind of bad reputation?
Kat turned her focus back to him, gazing longingly, watching him slide his black leather gloves off to reveal long fingers and elegant but masculine hands. A gold signet ring gleamed on the little finger of his left hand. She swallowed hard as a wave of heat rippled through her so fast beads of sweat gathered at her temples. She reached for her empty glass of cider again, never taking her eyes off the gorgeous man.
“You should probably go get your pint of Nelson’s Revenge,” Lacy said. “I really want to go clubbing, so get that drink, check it off your list, and let’s go!”
Her friend’s voice seemed to break through the odd sort of fog in her head. She didn’t want to leave this little pub and go dancing, not when a man like him was here. She could have watched him all night.
Clubbing was definitely not on the list of things she’d like to do, but it would get her out of her shell. Of course, it would really help if she had that drink. And getting that drink meant a chance to get close to the beautiful stranger.
“Okay, be back in a second.” She pushed her chair and headed toward the bar. The crowd was thick around the bartender, and Kat could barely see him over the heads of the students laughing and talking as they leaned against the antique wood bar. The only empty spot against the counter was next to Mr. Sexy…
Raising her chin, she started to walk in his direction, attempting to play it cool, like she wasn’t going to get turned on just by standing so close to this god of a man.
He probably won’t even look at me…but what if he does? Gotta be cool….I can handle this, right?
A second before she reached him, her right foot slipped in a spot of melted snow.
“Ahh!” Kat gasped as she tried to catch herself, but she careened straight into the beautiful stranger. Normally she wouldn’t have been so clumsy, but she’d been too focused on him and hadn’t been watching the floor. Plenty of people had been slipping all night.
“Oomph,” he grunted and threw his arms out, pulling her to his chest.
Kat’s head fell back as she clung to his shoulders. He was tall, deliciously so, and her head only just reached the bottom of his chin. His hair was swept back from his face, but it fell across his eyes as he stared down at her, and the light kissed the dark brown strands with a faint hint of gold. The color of his eyes was…stunning and made her almost dizzy when she stared. Like losing herself in a kaleidoscope of blue and green in endless splintering shafts.
Her knees wobbled, and she dug her hands harder into his shoulders, trying to stay on her feet.
What is wrong with me?
“Hello, darling, are you all right? Bit of a slick spot, eh?”
That rich voice, such decadent, sinful syllables uttered in that oh-so-perfect English accent, made Kat quiver inside. What was it about accents? They made a girl think strange, silly things, like asking him to talk dirty to her. Oh, the things he could say that would melt her into a puddle just like the snow at his feet. It might kill her with pleasure. The thought was so unlike her that she blinked. There was something about this man that made her want things she’d been hesitant to want before now. Like hot, sweaty sex. She was still a virgin, and yet this man was making her want to strip down naked and jump into the nearest bed with him.
“I…”
His hands were still holding her waist, his body pressed against hers. She couldn’t think; her brain short-circuited. His hands on her, so hot to the touch…They were standing so close, faces mere inches apart, and the world around her seemed to burn with a heat along her skin. Her breath quickened.
Kat struggled to think logically, but all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him.
“Are you able to stand on your own?” He smiled, the single flirty twist of his lips making her knees buckle again.
What the heck? She’d never had a problem with her legs working before.
“Er…yes,” she finally managed to say.
“Good.” His hands dropped, but the movement felt reluctant. He trailed his hands down her body, the light but suggestive skimming of his palms over her waist, then her hips, sent little throbbing pulses throughout her entire body. He didn’t step away, either, but kept close to her, his eyes still fixed on her face. “I’m glad to have prevented a nasty fall.”
Before she could reply, the bartender leaned over the counter and spoke. “What can I get you?”
Mr. Tall and Sexy shifted slightly, allowing Kat to slip into the space next to him, their shoulders and arms touching as she answered.
“I’ll have a pint of Nelson’s Revenge, please.”
The stranger next to her chuckled. “Are you sure about that?” he asked. “That’s a stiff drink and likely to bring tears to your eyes.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone, and Kat couldn’t resist responding.
“I’m sure. Besides, I’m more likely to start crying at the sight of a butterfly than a stout ale.” She laughed, then realized what’d she said and blushed.
The man angled his body toward her, propping one arm on the counter as he stared down at her.
“Butterflies make you cry? What on earth for? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them.” Humor heated those blue-green eyes of his, and she felt an answering heat sweep through her body.
“I…well, it’s silly really…” She hedged. She didn’t normally open up to people, let alone strange, beautiful men in pubs. But there was something about the way he was watching her, his intense focus on her and his interest in what she was saying, that gave her courage to continue.
“I used to live in Texas with my dad, and we saw monarch butterflies when they migrated. But now with their habitats dying out, I rarely see them. When I do get lucky and one flies past me, it’s beautiful…and sad.” She shrugged her shoulders, glancing away. “I know that sounds silly.”
“Not at all,” he murmured softly. “No sillier than how I feel when I look at stained glass windows. It’s the same for me, that mixture of melancholy and beauty. It’s not often I meet someone else who thinks about things like that.” His intense scrutiny tore her in two directions, between the need to squirm and to go very still.
The man possessed an overpowering, seductive and masculine presence. She caught the scent of pine and something clean and crisp that sparked her other senses to life. It encompassed her like some dark spell, leaving her with a desperate need to stay close to him. The things those girls had whispered about him came rushing back…“bad reputation”…“god in bed”…Whoever he was didn’t matter, she just wanted him. Wanted to curl her arms around his neck and get as close to him as possible.
“I think about that stuff all the time,” she said, unable to tear her gaze away from his.
He lifted his glass to his lips and sipped. It wasn’t ale he was drinking but something else, a dark, warm gold color, probably Scotch. She realized she must have been staring at his mouth when he licked his lips and spoke again.
“Keep staring at me like that and I’m liable to kiss you.”
ChapterTwo
Desire and hunger lit up his eyes, heating the strange mixture of blue and green. It almost made her forget that she was talking to a stranger. It really was possible to lose yourself in someone’s eyes. Maybe the poets weren’t wrong about love at first sight. She didn’t love this man, but she was…captivated by him, which felt like love, in a strange sort of way. The lightness of her head, the wobbly knees, the fascination with him.
“There’s nothing stopping you from kissing me,” she breathed. Her heart was pounding against her ribs as excitement skittered through her. Would he accept the challenge and kiss her?
His eyes softened, but there was a dangerous glint to his expression, one that warned her that if he kissed her…it wouldn’t be chaste, wouldn’t be sweet. It would be the sort of kiss that made a girl forget where she was and moan helplessly for more.
They were mere inches apart now…When had she leaned into him? Somehow she had shifted closer, fixated on his mouth, the full sensual lips. The bit of the cider ale she’d been drinking earlier made her thoughts a bit muddy. Well, all but one thought.
I want him to kiss me. If he won’t, I’ll kiss him first.
Before she let herself think better of it, she seized the chance to be reckless and rocked up on her tiptoes, curling her fingers into the lapels of his coat as she kissed him. Hard. It was wild, the way she let go and just gave herself into kissing him. Her own sexy stranger…
His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging in slightly, making tingles of excitement shoot down her spine, clear to her toes. His lips were soft and warm, moving against hers hungrily. When he angled his face, he caressed her lips with his tongue. The startling, erotic feel of it had her mouth parting, and he thrust inside. The little teasing strokes of his tongue against hers created shivers deep in her belly. He overwhelmed all of her senses, and Kat couldn’t catch her breath. There was no escaping his strong hold, and she didn’t want to. His lips were a drug, and she couldn’t get enough.
Every cell in her body pulsed and hummed to life when the kiss turned slightly rough, as he nipped her bottom lip. She rocked her body into his, desperate to get closer, to feel him completely surrounding her.
All mine. She smiled against his lips just as their bodies separated a few inches and she gasped for a breath. Blood pounded against her temples, and she panted and glanced up at him. Stark, raw lust burned like coals behind his eyes as he stared down at her, an almost animal ferocity in his expression.
“That was—”
Before she could finish, he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him for another kiss. The touch of his lips this time was feather light…as though he were savoring her. A simple, almost innocent brush of mouths, before she shivered, and a little moan of longing escaped. Suddenly he rotated her, pinning her against the bar, his mouth taking her hungrily, seeking entrance to hers. She parted her lips, more from surprise than anything else. When his tongue slid in and teased hers, she whimpered. The bare hint of stubble rasped against her skin as he kissed her, making her sensitive to every sensation.
More, I need more of this…
No one she’d dated in high school had kissed like this, as though he had all night to taste her, explore her, excite her. Nothing else mattered, nothing but this man and his life-altering, seductive lips.
When his mouth parted from hers, she blinked and stared up at him, wondrously dazed.
“You were too tempting to resist. Makes a man hungry for more when a woman looks at him like that.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips, his eyes tracing the shape, along with his finger.
“Like what?” she asked, fascinated by his words just as much as his hands and the way they touched her.
His laugh was dark and rich like a pint of Guinness. “Like she needs to be kissed, to be taken by a man who knows just what to do to make her moan with pleasure.”
Taken…the word was heavy, dark, forbidding and yet it filled her with a secret thrill. She could picture this man taking her, doing a thousand erotic things that would blow her mind and her body apart.
She struggled to respond, but what could she say to the man who’d just changed her life with one mind-blowing kiss and talked to her about how he could make a woman moan with pleasure? Had she really just made out with a complete and total stranger? She needed to do something, anything, to lessen the suddenly awkward moment.
She thrust out her hand and said, “I’m Katherine Roberts, but everyone calls me Kat.” It felt silly to introduce herself after the kiss they’d shared, but she did it anyway.
The man stared at her hand and then took it, raising it to his lips rather than shaking it. He brushed his mouth over the backs of her knuckles in a caress, like an old world prince greeting a lady. Her heart fluttered inside her chest at the little romantic act. She’d never met a man who’d done that before, and it made her imagine what it might feel like to have his lips on other parts of her body.
“Tristan Kingsley. It’s been quite the pleasure meeting you.” The blue-green of his eyes rippled with glints of light like a summer lake at noon. “I’d like to kiss you again—”
“Tristan! There you are!” A light, feminine voice shook Kat out of her hazy daydreams of being wrapped in his arms again.
A tall blonde with stunning, classical features and a killer sense of style stood in the pub’s doorway, watching Tristan and Kat. Her pink lips were curved up in an excited smile, and her blue eyes were bright and merry.
“So sorry I’m late. The snow is quite wretched on the roads,” she said as she strode over in her too perfect high-heeled boots and skinny jeans.
Kat wanted to melt into the floor but shuffled her own scuffed boots instead. Her face heated when Tristan released her hand and glanced at the blonde woman. Just like that, Kat was forgotten as he stepped around her. So much for her dreams of a man like that paying attention to her. She was just another passing fancy while he waited for his girlfriend to show up. A wave of nausea mixed with anxiety rolled through her stomach. This was why she was afraid to take risks. Because rejection hurt like hell.
“Celia!” Tristan grinned, as he opened his arms to embrace the beautiful woman.
Oh, God. She really is his girlfriend. Of course she is. Tristan looked perfect with Celia. It was obvious they were a couple. A couple of beautiful, sophisticated people. Like a pair of models from a Burberry ad. She’d never had a snowball’s chance in hell with a guy like him.
Kat slipped away, her pint of Nelson’s Revenge in her hands as she left Tristan and headed back to her friends. Mark and Lacy were watching her when she dropped down into her seat and covered her face with her hand.
“Wow, Kat, that was…” Lacy reached out and gave Kat’s shoulder a pat.
“Mortifying? Pathetic?” Kat supplied, as she finally dropped her hand from her face and set her glass down next to Mark, nudging it in his direction. Drinking the pint seemed to pale in comparison to the adventure of being kissed by Tristan Kingsley.
“Well, the kiss was kind of hot…until that other girl showed up,” Mark observed with a smirk, but he had a point.
She’d been totally on fire and hadn’t wanted to stop kissing Tristan. It was as though her life had depended on touching him, on feeling his muscles move beneath her hands, and his mouth exploring hers. There had been nothing else in the world she’d wanted more than him in that moment. She’d never felt like that before about anyone or anything.
“I know, right? What kind of guy kisses someone like that when he has a girlfriend?” Lacy said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Mark laughed. “Obviously that guy.”
Kat winced. “Do you mind if I just go back to the dorm? I think I’ve had enough of this place tonight.”
“But it’s your birthday.” Lacy pouted.
Kat shrugged. This was the first time she wasn’t celebrating with her father. They’d moved from Chicago to London in August and neither of them had thought about what it would mean when she was two hours away at Cambridge for her birthday. Somehow celebrating without him didn’t feel right.
“What about cake?” Mark asked before drinking some of his pint.
“No, thanks.” Kat shook her head and brushed some dust off the table, avoiding looking in Tristan’s direction.
How was it possible to still feel his lips on hers when he was a dozen feet away?
“Are you sure?” Lacy asked, her brows knit together in concern.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d rather just go back to the dorms. I have a lot of studying ahead of me in the next couple of weeks before final exams.”
“Well, drat,” Lacy said. “All right, you go home, then.” She nudged Mark. “Go pay for the drinks. It’s on us tonight, Kat.”
“Thanks, guys.” Kat stood and tucked her chair under the wooden table. “See you both tomorrow?”
“Bright and early,” Lacy laughed. “Did I ever say how much I hate 8:30 a.m. classes?”
Mark leaned over and kissed Lacy’s cheek. “That’s why I’m the smart one. My first class is never before 11 a.m.”
“That’s right, rub it in,” Lacy grumbled, but she was smiling at him.
“Bye, guys.” Kat was still laughing as she exited the pub. She didn’t want to think about the mysterious Tristan Kingsley or how he kissed. Better to just forget it and move on. It had been a fun adventure, even if a short one.
The snow blew in thick currents around her, and the dim streetlights looked like glowing golden orbs in the darkness. It was a bewitching sight.
Most of the small shops around the pub were closed, but one was still open. Its merry lights called to her as she approached. A bakery. Cakes, breads, and other sweets filled the windows. Behind the glass counter, a plump woman was checking a tray of cookies, the front of her blue apron dusted with small white splotches of flour.
“Maybe just one,” Kat murmured, entranced by the sight of the small chocolate cupcakes with elaborate swirls of icing. It was her birthday, after all. Kat entered the shop and the brass bell above her head tinkled.
“Hello, dearie,” the woman said and wiped flour-covered hands on her apron. “Come to get a late-night snack? You’re just in time, I was ready to close up early due to the weather.”
Kat peered through the glass cases, trying to decide which one of the little cakes would taste as good as the man she’d kissed only minutes ago. She doubted anything could come close.
Tristan. Tristan who had a girlfriend. Kat mentally kicked herself. She’d pretty much thrown herself at him and begged to be kissed. Maybe he didn’t normally go around slipping his tongue between a girl’s lips and setting her on fire inside. Then again…if he’d been a good guy, he wouldn’t have done more than a chaste peck on the cheek.
Focus on chocolate, not hot Brit you’ll never see again. She went back to studying the contents of the case. When the entry bell clinked again, she didn’t turn around.
“Have a need for something sweet?” A rich, decadent voice, smooth as chocolate, filled her ears.
She spun to find Tristan standing there, snow dancing about him as he let the door close behind him. He walked toward her with lithe, graceful steps. Her body trembled with a little wave of excitement at the mere sight of him. I shouldn’t be happy to see him, he has a girlfriend…But that didn’t change the rapid beat of her heart.
“Evening,” the baker said merrily.
“What are you doing here?” Kat sputtered. The moment the words were out, she slapped a hand over her mouth.
His chuckle made a warm flush creep down her cheeks. “I saw you left the pub and…” He paused, his brows drawing together. “Well, I didn’t want you to go off on your own. I saw that your friends remained behind.” It was a lame excuse, and they both knew it. For some reason that made her want to smile.
“So you’re protecting me from snowflakes?” She couldn’t help the partly amused and partly sarcastic tone of her voice.
Tristan shrugged and joined her at the counter, peering at the desserts. “Snowflakes can be treacherous buggers.”
This time she couldn’t stop her laugh. “I’ll bet. Death by ice fractals sounds horrifying.”
He quirked a brow. “Ice fractals?”
God, I’m an idiot. Sure, Kat, show him what a nerd you are. “They’re the mathematical phenomena of a repeating pattern that displays on every scale. Snowflakes are one of nature’s fractals.” She wasn’t a science wiz, but learning was something she enjoyed, no matter what subject. Ben had always teased her about it. Not that she’d minded being called a nerd. There were worse things than being addicted to learning.
Tristan glanced over his shoulder at the dancing snow, then turned back to her. “I’m surprised you know what fractals are. Most people don’t.” He leaned forward then and caught a lock of her hair, playing with the strands. Kat held her breath as every nerve in her tingled to life. He was touching her again, and she could feel every cell of her body humming with excitement.
Please kiss me again.
When he didn’t, her mind attempted to return to reality, and she remembered Celia.
“What about your girlfriend?” she blurted out.
“Girlfriend?” He let her hair drop from his fingers and met her gaze.
“That woman in the pub…” The one he looked so perfect standing next to.
“Celia?” The responding smile that lit his face filled her with envy. Would a man ever smile like that when he thought about her? Something about Tristan and the way he smiled, she couldn’t help but wish one smile was for her.
“Right, Celia,” she echoed. Her heart twinged a little at the mention of the other woman.
“She’s my cousin, not my girlfriend.”
Kat stared. This total stranger had abandoned his cousin to chase after her? Tiny flutters of excitement stirred in her stomach.
“You seem surprised.” His sensual lips—lips she couldn’t get out of her mind—twitched, as though he was fighting off a smile.
“Why ditch your cousin when you don’t even know me?” This entire evening was surreal. God-like men coming in from snowstorms to kiss her senseless…What next? Winning the lottery and moving to the Bahamas?
Tristan’s gaze dropped to her mouth.
“When a lovely woman kisses me and runs off into the snowy night…well, the temptation to go after her is irresistible. I don’t let lovely women escape, not until I’ve tasted them properly.” He licked his lips and everything south of her waist throbbed to life.
What? Was he kidding?
“So here I am, in a bakery with you. Is there a reason we’re staring at cakes?” He moved a step closer, even though he was facing the desserts again.
His arm brushed her right shoulder. The man was tall, but not too tall. Just enough to make a girl feel small, in a good way, like he could protect her if she needed it. A masculine scent, warm and clean, filled her nose. His scent. It was an enticing one she could’ve inhaled forever.
Focus, Kat. Try to be normal and have a normal conversation. Do not keep staring at Mr. Sexy.
“It’s my birthday today. I’m nineteen.”
At her reply, he looked at her again.
“Well, we must get you a cake. Chocolate, I presume?” He leaned one elbow on the glass counter as he waited for her to answer.
She nodded mutely.
Tristan turned back to the woman behind the counter. “What’s the best chocolate cake you have? The richest, most decadent one.” His words were as decadent as his statement. She could practically feel the chocolate melting on her tongue.
“The Devil’s Triple Layer Cake.” The woman pulled out a small cake for two people. Raspberry sauce was drizzled over the top of the simple yet elegant icing design.
Tristan took out his wallet and slid a black credit card across the counter.
“We’ll take it. And a small candle, if you have one.”
ChapterThree
“But—” Kat’s protest died when the woman took the Devil’s cake from the counter and started to box it up. She didn’t like feeling indebted to him, and he’d already made her feel off balance with his kisses.
“Consider it a thank-you.” He laughed.
“For what?” Her tone was a breathless as she watched his dark hair fall into his eyes. Her hands twitched to brush it back from his face, to touch him back the way he’d so boldly touched her earlier. Everything about this man drew her in—his face, his eyes, his rich voice speaking of kisses and passion.
“You surprised me tonight. It’s been a long time since anyone has done that.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and she saw the hint of stubble there and remembered the way it had tickled her when she’d kissed him.
I surprised myself, kissing him like that.
“Allow me to escort you home. Is it a long walk?” Tristan asked Kat, when the woman had returned with the boxed cake.
“Only a block. I’m staying in a dorm at Magdalene College.” She shouldn’t be telling him something like that. What if he got the wrong idea?
“A student at university? Excellent. So am I.” He smiled. “I’m not an undergraduate, though. I’m earning a Master’s degree in business.” He thanked the baker and collected the box with the cake. “I’ll walk you home.” It was a statement this time, not a question, and she didn’t want to argue with him, not when it meant spending more time in his presence. She’d just have to be sure he didn’t think she’d…well, she’d worry about that when they got to her dorm.
“You’re a student? How old are you?” Kat could’ve smacked herself for being so rude. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m twenty-five.” He held the door open with one hand, and she had to slide past him to exit the bakery. A gust carrying fresh snow hit her face, and she braced against the frigid air. Her first instinct was to turn around and bury herself against Tristan. He was so warm, she remembered from kissing him at the bar. The way his body had enveloped hers with heat, and the way his hands had gripped her hips.
“So what brings an American to Cambridge? Is this a semester of study abroad?” He walked alongside her as they went down the street, snow crunching beneath their feet. Kat stayed closer to Tristan than she would have normally, telling herself it was because she was afraid she’d slip on the ice. But the truth was that she wanted to be close to him, feel his warmth, smell that piney scent of his that made her senses come alive. She struggled to focus on their conversation, given how her thoughts kept drifting into dangerous territory.
“I’m a full-time student. My father travels for work, and he’s living in London for the next couple of years.”
Tristan made a little hum of interest. “And what does your father do?”
“He’s an investment banker at Barclays. He’s at their London office, and I wanted to be close to him.” It was so easy to talk to Tristan. Maybe it was because she knew she’d likely never see him again after tonight. But it wasn’t just that. Something about talking to him just clicked.
It reminded her of a day when she’d been a young girl, crawling through her parents’ attic searching for treasure maps and wardrobes that opened to snow-swept worlds lit by solitary lampposts. She’d come across a large, weather-beaten, locked trunk. After hours of digging through boxes, she’d found an ornate key in an antique lacquered jewelry box heavily covered with dust.
Eyeing the lock and the key, she’d given it a chance. The satisfying click-click of the key in the lock had made her heart pound and her hands tremble as she’d opened the trunk. It had contained old books, the very best kind, of course. But she’d never forget the moment of fitting that key into place, and the feeling of connectedness it had made. Being near Tristan, talking to him, was like fitting that key into the lock all over again, and she couldn’t fathom why that was, only that it was true. It scared her a little, but she wasn’t the kind of woman to turn her back on something amazing just because it sent her nerves skittering inside her.
“And your mother?” Tristan paused as they reached the main door to her college grounds. The massive, ten-foot-high door had a smaller door built into its frame that everyone used to enter the grounds. It was a bit like a scene from Alice in Wonderland.
The smaller door to the college was unlocked, and Kat entered, Tristan following behind her. A cheery porter came out of his booth to greet them.
Tristan caught her arm, halting her in the middle of the snowy courtyard so she had to face him. The hold was firm, and the subtle sign of power rippling through that touch made her shiver. She remembered how he’d grabbed her in the pub, kissing her, forcing her to enjoy his kiss without escaping. It was madness to desire that, to let him take control and allow her the freedom to just…feel. But that was the thing about this man she couldn’t get out of her head. If he could affect her in public, in a pub, what would it be like when they were completely alone?
“You didn’t answer my question about your mother.” There was a gentle reprimand in his voice. Their warm breaths billowed out in soft, white clouds in the Magdalene courtyard.
Those unique eyes of his held her spellbound. It was like watching the tide pulling out to sea and being sucked deeper into the water.
“I…my mother isn’t part of my life, hasn’t been for quite some time.” For some reason, admitting that out loud stung. Thinking about the woman who’d abandoned her hurt, but saying it aloud made it too real, too painful. She and her father never talked about her mother and how empty her leaving had left Kat feeling. No one to talk to, bake with, laugh about boys with, see mushy romantic movies with…those were all the things mothers and daughters were supposed to do. But not me.
“I didn’t mean to open old wounds, darling.” Tristan’s eyes softened, the colors changing yet again, and she was lost in their depths. The way he’d called her “darling,” that intimate word surrounded her heart with a cottony warmth. This beautiful stranger was offering her comfort, and she wanted it, wanted him. And that need scared her. She’d needed her mother, and her mother had left. The only person who hadn’t let her down was her father. Kat couldn’t let herself need Tristan, not when it might lead to more heartache.
He cupped her cheek, the gesture tender. How could he be such a contradiction? Bold and seductive, then tender and compassionate.
“They’re divorced?” he asked. That focused intensity only seemed to deepen as the snowfall muffled the world around them. Like they were cocooned in the shelter of a snow globe holding only them and the falling white flakes.
She licked her lips. “Yes. For a long time now.”
Tristan nodded. “My parents are divorced, as well. My father is an overbearing, pompous arse.” He chuckled, but there was a bite to the sound that caught her attention.
“You don’t like your father?” she asked.
The flash of cold in his eyes made her shiver more than the snow falling around them. He continued to stroke her cheek with one of his hands, which softened the hard look in his eyes.
“I don’t like to talk about him.” It was clear from the steel in his voice that she wouldn’t get anything else from him about his father. But she wanted to know more about this mysterious, seductive stranger whose kisses burned straight through her. There were hidden depths to him, dark, deep, flowing underground rivers and she wanted to dive in and discover who he really was.
“What about your mother?”
The defensiveness evaporated as he grinned. “One of the best, as far as mothers go.”
“That must be nice, to have a mother around, I mean.” A part of her still felt like maybe she had been the cause of her parents’ breakup. Maybe she’d been too much for her mother to handle.
“It’s not your fault, you know. Sometimes it feels like it is, but it isn’t.” His hand on her cheek moved to her hair, threading through the wild strands that were slightly damp with melted snow. The heat in his eyes burned slowly, like a fire in a hearth.
Kat’s body responded, her thighs clenching together and her nipples hardening. From a single hot, tender look, she was melting for this intense, handsome stranger. A shiver racked her, and he chuckled. Did he know how much he was affecting her? He had to, with that pleased look gleaming in his eyes, and his lips twitching in bemusement.
“Let’s get you inside so you can warm up and eat your birthday cake.”
She came back to herself and realized they’d been standing inside the courtyard, unmoving, just standing so close, breaths mingled and almost whispering as they opened up about their lives.
They walked up to the front of the red brick dormitory, and he followed her up the small set of steps to her door on the first floor. She turned, ready to thank him for walking her home, but he caught the door, preventing it from shutting.
“May I come inside?” He tilted his head toward the door, and she saw he was still carrying the cake.
“I…” she swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat. She wasn’t ready to say good night, or good-bye. But she didn’t want him thinking she was the sort of girl who slept with someone she just met. He seemed to sense her indecision.
“Just for cake,” he said. “You have my gentleman’s promise.” He used his index finger to draw a cross over his heart.
A gentleman’s promise? She remembered the things those girls had said back in the pub. Was he the sort of man to break a promise? Or just a girl’s heart?
Take a chance, a little voice whispered inside her head. He’s a risk worth taking, at least tonight. If she did let him inside, she’d get to spend more time with him. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight, not until she’d figured him out. She’d always loved puzzles, and this strange, sexy man was more of a puzzle than anything she’d ever seen.
“Okay. But just for a few minutes.” She let him follow her inside. It was large for a dormitory room, with a tiny kitchen counter against one wall and a small bathroom. Flicking on the one overhead light, she took the bakery box from Tristan and set it on her desk before turning around to face him. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think of the world she’d built in the few short months she’d lived here.
The walls were a pale, eggshell white, and she’d covered most of them with posters of famous British people. Tristan eyed one above her bed.
“Lord Nelson? Good God, that sure explains your drink tonight at the Pickerel.” He burst out laughing. “What is it like to wake up to that each morning?” The rich sound of his amusement warmed her insides all over again, and she started laughing, too.
“My father got it for me as a joke, and I loved it. I thought he deserved a place of honor.”
The throaty laugh that escaped his lips was husky this time. “Above a woman’s bed is certainly a place of honor.” His gaze roved over her full-sized bed, with its dark royal blue and white fleur-de-lis pattern.
Simple and elegant. Just like him. He’d look so good on my bed. The thought made her blush.
It was the first time she’d really let herself go there. When she’d dated in high school, she’d never let herself think about sex. It was pointless to build that connection with someone when her father might be transferred to a new location at any time, and they’d have to pack up their lives again. But she wasn’t going to be moving for the next three years. Maybe now was the time to give it a chance.
Tristan stripped off his coat and laid it over the back of her desk chair. She had a brief moment to admire his body from behind, the lean lines of his legs, the broad, muscular shoulders outlined by his sweater, before he would notice her staring. The man was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. It was intimidating, yet she didn’t want to look away.
She was still staring when he straightened and faced her. Oh, what he could do to her with that body…Tristan was making her feel a little crazy. Okay, really crazy. She wanted to touch him, to put her hands on his chest, feel that heat she remembered from the pub, and kiss him again. God, she wanted to kiss him, and it almost made her hurt with hunger.
“How about we taste that cake?” He grinned almost lazily, as if he’d known she’d been thinking sinful thoughts.
“Uh…right.” She dug through her cabinet and found a pair of blue plates, a knife, and two forks. She cut two slices and held one out to him.
He didn’t take his plate right away, instead reaching into the bag from the bakery and retrieving the little packet of candles. He nestled one on the top of her slice.
“You don’t need to—”
“Of course I do.” He produced a small lighter with a silver crest embossed on it and flicked it on, the flame sparking as he put it to the wick of the candle. The crest matched the one engraved on the gold signet ring on his left hand.
Another part of the mystery. What sort of man wore a signet ring? Given what she knew about history, especially English history, she had to wonder if he might be…No that was silly. He couldn’t be royalty. She knew enough about the current monarchy to know he wasn’t related to Prince William or Prince Harry. Was he titled? A lord? If so, what was he doing studying at Cambridge? It wasn’t unusual for nobles to send their children to study at Oxford or Cambridge, but after they’d gotten their undergraduate degree they didn’t normally pursue graduate studies. Of course, the simpler explanation was that he was simply wearing the ring as a fashion statement. A lot of British movie stars wore signet rings to give themselves an aura of mystery.
“What’s the symbol on your ring?” she asked, nodding at his hand.
A shadow flickered across his eyes, and he glanced away before he replied. “A family heirloom.”
That only created a hundred other questions, but she was prevented from asking anything else because he’d successfully lit the candle.
Once the wick caught fire and burned steadily, he pocketed the lighter and took the plate from her hands.
“Now make a wish and blow it out.” Tristan’s eyes locked with hers, and that enchanting blue-green was now bright with fire. They were so close, only the plate separating them, as he watched her, waiting.
She leaned down, closed her eyes.
I wish…What did she wish for? A funny thought popped into her head, and she felt strange enough to go with it.
I wish to have an adventure. She was tired of reading about them between the pages of old books, she wanted to live one. Standing here with Tristan and kissing him tonight was the start, and she wanted more, so much more. With a puff, she blew out the candle, and smoke curled up from the blackened tip of the wick.
“Happy birthday, Kat,” Tristan whispered.
“Thank you.” Kat meant for more than just his sweet words. She meant for the cake, for the kiss in the pub, for setting her down a path of living. She flicked her gaze up to his again as she removed the candle from the slice of cake and set it aside on the counter.
A slow smile curved his lips as he handed back her plate and collected his own. Then he walked over to her bed and sat down.
Tristan tasted his cake, and she wished he were tasting her. She wanted to be back in his arms, kissing him. And part of her was curious to know what made him so notorious that women were whispering about him in pubs.
I have to be smart about this. There was no way she could ask him to kiss her again and open that door to more intimacy. Not after he’d made a promise to behave like a gentleman and just eat his cake. But she was torn. Wanting him to stay, wanting more, and being afraid of that desire and where it could lead. After just a short while of being around him, she could see that heartbreaker side to him, the one that would hurt her if she fell for him. He was full of charm, sex appeal, and mystery. There wasn’t a woman in the world who wasn’t intrigued by that, or seduced by that…
“Mmm…The baker wasn’t lying. This cake is sinful.” He patted the bedside next to him. “Come sit.”
Kat tried to ignore her confusion about Tristan and the way he made her feel. Hesitant, excited, off balance, fascinated. He was too handsome to be in her room and on her bed. And his simple presence on her bed made her mind go to wonderful places. The images he put in her head with just a thought should have scared her. She wanted to do things with him that she’d never thought about before. Like having him push her flat onto her back and pin her wrists on either side of her head while he kissed her, ruthless, seductive, hard, as she wriggled beneath him, desperate for more. His eyes promised that and so much more as he licked his lips and watched her.
She was finally nineteen, but he made her want to be twenty-five, worldly and experienced. Being around Tristan, she wanted to be someone interesting. Which brought her back to a question that plagued her: Was he pretending to be interested, wanting another notch on his bedpost and thinking she’d be an easy target?
Or does he really like me? A nervous flutter stirred in her stomach again.
“Why did you really follow me to the bakery?” she asked.
For a man like him to come after her when the pub had been filled with plenty of pretty college girls, there had to be a reason. She wasn’t exactly the type of girl guys flocked after. She was a size twelve, definitely curvy, with brown hair and gray eyes. Not a stunning model or even like the prettier girls she’d seen on campus, those tall leggy British beauties who were similar to his cousin Celia.
Tristan bit into a forkful of cake, sucking chocolate off the prongs.
Kat stared at his mouth, remembering all too well how his lips had felt on hers.
“You’ve caught my attention, Kat.” He set his plate on the table by the bed and folded his arms over his chest.
“Your attention?” She avoided the bed and sat at her desk, where she nibbled on the cake. The flavors were decadent. The zing of the raspberry, the dark, almost erotic taste of the semi-sweet chocolate. Sinful.
“Yes.” He reached up to stroke his jaw. “Very few things attract my attention. But you did.” His brows drew together.
What did that mean? Kat had trouble swallowing. Maybe if she drank something…Kneeling by her fridge, she retrieved a small carton of milk.
“Want something to drink?” she offered.
“Yes. Thank you.” He rose from the bed and came up behind her. The warmth of his body seared hers as he reached around her to grab one of her mugs and fill it himself.
A shiver rippled down her spine, and she closed her eyes a brief moment, until he stepped back again. Then she raised her glass to her lips and hastily drank, trying to quench the thirst chocolate always created, and this newer thirst for the man not two feet from her. He was like a drug—one hit and she needed more. To feel that giddy rush when he pinned her against a wall, his hands exploring her curves, his mouth possessing hers…She was supposed to be playing it cool, and not letting him think he could get her into bed, at least not tonight. The fact that this was exactly what she wanted was very…very bad.
