Authors: Madeline Hunter
The Romantic
Journey back to an age of seductive danger, passionate intrigue, and scandalous love as nationally acclaimed author Madeline Hunter draws you into the hearts of five irresistible men:
THE SEDUCER
Daniel St. John: Charismatic and mysterious, this dangerously seductive man has survived a treacherous revolution; a master of the arts of war and intrigue, he knows the secrets of winning a woman’s heart … and body.
THE SAINT
Vergil Duclairc: This dashing nobleman leads a dangerous double life; beneath his perfect composure and self-control is a sensual master whose mere touch can tempt a woman to the wildest abandon.
THE CHARMER
Adrian Burchard: This virile aristocrat is used to having women at his command; darkly handsome, sensuous, magnetic, he lives in a world of mysteries and secrets … a man dangerous to love, impossible to resist.
THE SINNER
Dante Duclairc: A daring and reckless libertine, he’s as infamously charming as the devil himself, and his sensuous temptation promises the kind of fall into earthly paradise every woman dreams of taking.
THE ROMANTIC
Julian Hampton: Like a knight of old, his smoldering reserve conceals a sensual undercurrent of passion and poetry that sweeps every woman before him—but his love is reserved for only one.
Fighters, protectors, lovers, they live in a dazzling world of glittering ballrooms and sinful gaming halls, in a time of heart-stopping duels and soul-searing passion.
These are their stories ….
THE SINNER
“Packed with sensuality and foreboding undertones, this book boasts rich historical details and characters possessing unusual depth and vitality, traits that propel it beyond the standard historical romance fare.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Sensual, intriguing, and absorbing, prolific Hunter scores again.”
—Booklist
“There are books you finish with a sigh because they are rich, so tender, so near to the heart that they will stay with you for a long, long time. Madeline Hunter’s historical romance, The Sinner, is such a book.”
—Oakland Press
THE CHARMER
“With its rich historical texture, steamy love scenes and indelible protagonists, this book embodies the best of the genre.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“In yet another excellent offering from Hunter, her intriguing characters elicit both fascination and sympathy.”
—Booklist
THE SAINT
“[An] amusing, witty, and intriguing account of how love helps, not hinders, the achievement of dreams.”
—Booklist
THE SEDUCER
“Hunter … sweeps both her readers and her characters up in the embrace of history. Lush in detail and thrumming with sensuality, this offering will thrill those looking for a tale as rich and satisfying as a multi-course gourmet meal.”
—Publishers Weekly
“
The Seducer
is a well-crafted novel … characteristically intense and frankly sexual.”
—Contra Costa Times
“[An] intriguing and redemptive tale.”
—Booklist
“Angst and passion battle it out in this very sensual story.”
—Oakland Press
Also by Madeline Hunter
B
Y
A
RRANGEMENT
B
Y
P
OSSESSION
B
Y
D
ESIGN
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HE
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ROTECTOR
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ORD
OF A
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HOUSANDS
N
IGHTS
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TEALING
H
EAVEN
T
HE
S
EDUCER
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HE
S
AINT
T
HE
C
HARMER
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HE
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INNER
I had decided to dedicate this novel to my editor, Wendy McCurdy, even before I wrote the first chapter. After ten books, it was past time to acknowledge the critical role she has had in my career.
As it turns out, this is the perfect book in which to thank her for her advice, support, and friendship.
One reason is because her editorial skills helped improve this story in important ways, and make it better than it might have been.
She already knows the other reason.
I
F
or a bachelor, there is no more dangerous person in the world than a happily married woman.
To such a female, an unattached man of position and property is a rough stone sticking out of life’s wall. The more blissful her own union, the more convinced she becomes that the bachelor stone wants smoothing. She is sure it would be a much happier stone if it were as neatly chiseled and mortared as her husband.
So it was that Julian Hampton found himself seated beside the talkative widow, Mrs. Morrison, when he attended the Viscountess Laclere’s banquet.
He made no special note of the way the viscountess watched the progress of their conversation, but he did not miss it either.
“Your occupation must be fascinating, Mr. Hampton,” the comely widow said, when her very detailed description of her summer holiday in Brighton waned.
“Being a solicitor is very dull employment, in reality.”
Actually it wasn’t, but the Mrs. Morrisons of the world would never understand why.
She laughed and her eyes sparkled. She turned so that her glowing face was fully visible. “I cannot believe that anything you occupy yourself with is dull, Mr. Hampton.”
“I assure you that I am a thoroughly unremarkable man. I bore myself so much that I can barely stay awake.”
“Well, you do not bore me,” she said with a meaningful smile.
He speculated on why the viscountess had chosen to throw at him this golden-haired young lady of little wit, submissive grace, and dull loquaciousness. Since he had not pursued the more compelling women trotted out thus far, the viscountess and her friends had probably concluded he did not want interesting companionship in his home.
Since Lady Laclere had opened her circle to a woman she probably did not overly favor, and just for his benefit, he dutifully gave Mrs. Morrison serious consideration. She was more than attractive enough, and he suspected she would be pleasant to have in bed. She had a respectable fortune, and lovely breasts partly revealed by her décolleté. Her manner indicated that she would be the sort of earnestly accommodating wife whom men were supposed to want. She would be a perfect prospect for a man seeking to secure domestic tranquility.
Regretfully, he was not such a man.
He lobbed a question about her young son. She took up the topic with the enthusiasm any good mother would show. While most of his mind listened to tales of the
boy’s antics and brilliance, a renegade corner of it composed a letter to the Viscountess Laclere.
My dear Lady Laclere,
I greatly appreciate the concern that you show for my future happiness. The parade of eligible females whom you have arranged for me to inspect these last few months has been impressive in its variety. I am touched, nay, I am moved, by your thoughtfulness. I must regretfully inform you, however, that your quest is in vain, as is that of the Duchess of Everdon, and the more subtle efforts of Mrs. St. John. I will not marry. Therefore, I respectfully request to be released from the social yoke that you have placed on me.
Your servant—
“My, she can certainly converse with the best of them, can’t she?”
The low, throaty voice intruded on his letter before he could add his signature. It came on a hush of breath from the woman sitting to his right.
Señora Perez. Another married woman, and dangerous in her own way. One quite different from the viscountess.
Señora Perez was the wife of Raoul Perez, a diplomat from the young country of Venezuela who lived in London to promote his people’s economic interests. They were present at this banquet because it was being hosted by the Viscount Laclere to celebrate the recent passage of the bill that abolished slavery throughout the British Empire, an event of momentous symbolism for all people in the Americas.
Julian had tried to ignore the fact that this married woman had intimated since their meeting that she found rough stones on smooth walls appealing and challenging.
He let the comment pass, but soon it was time to pay this other lady attention, as the conversation shifted to the right.
“Your English is exceptional, considering you only recently joined your husband here in London,” he said.
“I have been studying your language and customs for years. I told Raoul that I would not come until I could make him proud, and not fumble like a peasant at parties such as this.”
“You have succeeded admirably.”
While she explained her studies, that mutinous corner of his mind wandered. He saw the bright colors and sharp contrasts of her land in his head.
Crystal blue waters stretched along ivory beaches. Pirate ships bobbed in the surf as daring men hauled booty to shore, and chestnut-skinned women watched, clothed in reds and oranges and blues. An argument broke out over some gold, and swords were drawn, and metal clashed and storms blew in and the ocean churned in sublime fury and—
