Lessons of Desire by Madeline Hunter

If Phaedra Blair did not possess both style and beauty, the world would consider her merely strange. Since nature had blessed her with these qualities, society thought her almost interesting.

He first appears beneath her prison window as her savior—a sinfully attractive man whose charm and connections have ensured her release from an unjust arrest. But author and publisher Phaedra Blair quickly learns that the price of her “freedom” is to be virtually bound to her irresistible rescuer.

For Elliot Rothwell did not come solely on a mission of goodwill. He came to extract a promise that Phaedra won’t publish a slanderous manuscript that would destroy his family’s name, and he’s not above bribery, threats, or bedding her to get his way. And with each erotic encounter raising the stakes between them, Elliot discovers he’s ever more reluctant to lose this sensual game. . .or the unusual, provocative woman who is every bit his match.

Doesn’t it sound grand? This follows the wonderful novel, The Rules of Seduction. And just in case you haven’t already gone to get this and are still on the fence…

Here is another reason to agree with me you must have it 😉

E X C E R P T

from Chapter 2

Lord Elliot strolled away like a man studying the architecture along the street. Phaedra closed the shutters and hurried to the other side of her apartment. She opened the window that looked out on the small garden in the back.

It took Lord Elliot some time to get there. Finally she saw him enter at the far end, through the door that gave out onto a fetid alley that separated the properties. His movements lacked any furtive hesitation. He walked toward her, tall and confident, like a man accustomed to doing as he pleased. Even without the angular face that nature had so blessed with beauty, his relaxed carriage and assured demeanor demanded that one be impressed.

She was so happy to see someone from home that she did not mind the critical glint in his dark eyes when he saw her. She had seen a similar flicker above Lord Elliot’s slow smile when they met at Alexia’s wedding. It was the reaction of a man who thought her vaguely amusing even though he disapproved of her appearance, her beliefs, her history, her family, her. . . .everything.

“Miss Blair, I am relieved to see you in good health and spirits.” Another of those slow smiles accompanied the greeting.

“And I am relieved to see you, Lord Elliot.”

“Alexia gave me the name of your hostel and asked I look in on you, to make sure you needed nothing.”

“That was kind of her. I regret that I cannot receive you properly now that you have called.”

“It appears that you cannot receive me at all.”

So much for him allowing a few pleasantries first. “No doubt you find my imprisonment surprising, even shocking.”

“I am a man rarely shocked and seldom surprised. I will admit some curiosity, however. You have only been in Naples a few weeks. It would take most people at least a year to amass sufficient crimes to deserve such punishment.”

“There have been no crimes, just a small misunderstanding.”

“Small? Miss Blair, that is a member of the king’s guard in front of your door.”

“I am not convinced the king put him there. One of the court functionaries has done this to me. He is a loathsome little man with too much power and a small intelligence.”

Lord Elliot crossed his arms, which made him look judgmental and powerful. She really hated it when men took that stance with her. It personified all that was wrong with their half of humanity.

“The guard spoke of a duel,” Lord Elliot said.

“How was I to know that these men are so possessive that they try to kill each other if women so much as speak with—–”

“Swords and daggers. Blood was drawn, the guard said.”

“Marsilio is a young artist. A mere boy. Headstrong but very sweet. I had no idea that he had misinterpreted our friendship to the point where he would challenge Pietro simply because I strolled along the bay with him.”

“Regrettably for you, Marsilio the headstrong, sweet boy is the king’s relative. He came out of that duel almost dead. Fortunately for you, the guard says he will live.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Although they do exaggerate here. As I understand it he was not badly hurt, even though any wound would be serious is such a climate. I am most contrite about the whole matter. I said so. I expressed my regrets and apologies in very slow English and also in Latin so I would be understood, but that officious, odious, stupid, little man would not listen to me. He even accused me of being a prostitute, which was beyond the pale. I explained that I have never taken a penny from any man.”

“Did you protest your virtue and honor, or did you tell the odious, stupid, little man that you think women should give themselves freely?”

She did not like the deep, knowing look in his eyes when he spoke his bald insinuation. If she were not in such a ridiculous situation she would let him know that she might be unconventional but that did not give him permission to be rude. Right now, however, diplomacy was required.

“I explained my belief in free love, which is not the same as giving oneself away freely, Lord Elliot. I tried to educate him. I would be glad to do the same for you, should we ever have a more opportune meeting.”

“What a tempting offer, Miss Blair. However, I expect the philosophical niceties were lost on your gaoler. Better if you had declared yourself a courtesan. They know all about that here. Radical concepts of free love, on the other hand—-well. . .”

His offhand gesture said it all. What do you expect, woman? You live outside the rules and even your appearance invites misunderstandings.

She swallowed her instinctive reaction once more. Arguing would only drive him away and she really wanted him to stay a while longer. She had not realized how lonely this apartment was, and how sad the isolation had become. Just hearing her own language was a comfort.

“Do you think that they will release me soon?”

Again that offhand gesture, only now it substituted for a shrug. “There is no constitution here. No sense of precedent as in England either. No codified rights. It is an old-fashioned monarchy. You could be released tomorrow, or sent back to England, or brought to trial, or you might remain in those chambers for years at the pleasure of the king.”

“Years! That is uncivilized.”

“I do not think it will come to that. However, it could be some months before your odious, stupid, little man loses interest.” He glanced across the face of the building, then to the garden door. “Miss Blair, I cannot lurk in this garden much longer or I may find myself a guest of the king’s guards along with you. I will arrange to have some food delivered to you, and leave a sum for the hire of that apartment which no doubt you still must pay. I will also ask the British envoy here to have someone check on you periodically.”

Good heavens, he was leaving! She might grow old in these few rooms, eventually starving to death when the money ran out.

She was not a woman who depended on men for support or protection. Lord Elliot’s side of this conversation had not endeared him to her either. The ambiguity of her future helped her overcome her natural aversion to asking this particular man for assistance, however.

“Lord Elliot,” she said, stopping him after he took three steps toward the garden door. “Lord Elliot, my situation and my station do not interest diplomats. I don’t suppose you would consider interceding on my behalf. I am sure the odious little man would be impressed by your family connections and your fame as an historian. If you spoke for me, perhaps it would help.”

His expression was sympathetic but not encouraging. “I am a younger son. My station is much diminished here, and my fame of little account. Nor does this court have reason to grant me any favors.”

“I am sure you will get a better hearing than I ever will. At least you know their language. I saw you conversing with the guard.”

“I am hardly fluent enough in this dialect to present your case well.”

“I would be grateful for whatever you attempt.” She did not think he should make her beg. What happened to chivalry? She did not believe in such sentiments, but his kind did. She was a damsel in distress and this gentleman should jump to help her, not stand in the garden looking like he wished he had never noticed her at the window above the guard.

He pondered her request. She felt her smile tighten into a beseeching grimace.

“This is not England, Miss Blair. If I am successful on your behalf you may not like the conditions they place on you in return for your freedom.”

“I will force myself to accommodate any conditions, although I pray that you try to keep them from shipping me back to England at once. I came all this way and I really need—I want to visit the excavations at Pompeii before I leave. It is a dream of mine.”

He thought it over an inordinate amount of time. His visible sigh communicated that his decision went against some better judgment. “I promised Alexia that I would see to your welfare, so I will do what I can. Finding the man whose order confined you may be difficult. Do you know his name? I would prefer not to ask around the court for the odious, stupid, little man. He might hear the description, which would not help my mission, and it probably applies to far too many court functionaries in any case.”

He had capitulated out of resignation to his sense of duty, not a genuine desire to assist her. She was too desperate to be particular about his motives. “His name is Gentile Sansoni. Why do you look like that? Do you know him?”

“I know of him. Your self-defense fell on deaf ears, Miss Blair. Sansoni does not speak English or even Latin. And he is Neapolitan through and through, which is not good news.”

© 2007 Madeline Hunter