A Pirate for Christmas: A Regency Novella (19 page)

“That makes me sound even worse. Not only am I judgmental, I base my judgments on unreliable public report.”

He laughed softly, charmed despite increasing discomfort. “You’re awfully hard on yourself, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.” Humor warmed her voice. “But you’ve behaved like a gentleman tonight and I apologize for any unfavorable thoughts.”

“I’m no saint,” he was compelled to point out, much as he hoped to rise in her estimation.

Heaven help him, what had got into him? He never wanted a woman to think him a better man. He’d devoted his time to women who expected the worst of him, then generally got even less.

Philippa’s sigh was breathy and alluring. He fought the surging need to seize her in his arms. This tiny room transformed into a torture chamber.

“I assumed you set out to seduce my sister, but if that was so, you’d never have destroyed the letter. If nothing else, it would make a fine tool for blackmailing Amelia into doing what you wanted.”

When she paused, he leaned forward. Damn it, moving closer filled his head with her intriguing scent. After tonight, he’d know her among a thousand just by her fragrance.

“And you haven’t been angry with me. And you should be.”

He admitted the truth, even if it made him feel like an awkward schoolboy instead of a worldly man with a history of too many lovers. “I always wanted the chance to talk to you.”

The disbelief in her short laugh roused another of those unwelcome pangs in his chest. She was so convinced that she was of negligible interest. Erskine developed a hearty dislike for her overbearing mother and birdbrain sister.

“For a man renowned for his rakish ways, you’re not very rakish.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. I’m taking a rest from wickedness.” If she could see into his mind, she’d know that was far from true.

She sighed again, more heavily this time. “Surely it’s well after midnight.” She paused. “If you’d stayed downstairs as usual, I’d have been in and out of your room and you’d be none the wiser.”

Unworthy pleasure flooded him. “So you’ve been watching me, too.”

Another of those dry laughs. “You’re very noticeable. You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen.” She stopped on a gasp and he heard her squirm with embarrassment. Her damned wriggling would be the death of him. “Oh, no. Shoot me now.”

He bit back a laugh, although her artless sincerity touched him. Sensual curiosity stirred. He was still a rake, no matter what good influence the lovely Miss Sanders exerted on his deplorable character. Could he translate her admiration for his looks into permission to touch?

Oh, he was a bad, bad man. At Christmas and at every other time of the year.

A long and bristling silence fell. Then he heard a smothered sound near his shoulder.

Astonished, he turned in her direction, although he saw nothing through the blackness. “Is that a yawn? Good God, you can’t possibly be bored.”

Lord above, she was a tonic for his vanity. Yet again, he wondered why he liked her so much. She certainly didn’t exert herself to flatter him. On the other hand, she’d been calm throughout this ordeal. The game would be up immediately if he’d been lumbered with a screaming female. They’d have no chance of avoiding discovery if she’d started shrieking like a skinned cat. Not to mention that shrieking was damned wearing on a man’s nerves.

Another yawn. “You’ll think me the most rag-mannered hoyden in creation.”

He wanted to tell her she was charming, but he recalled too well how she’d brushed over his last attempt to tell her she was exceptional. “Captivity after midnight with a man of shady reputation tests the bravest lady’s nerves.”

“I was nervous. I probably should still be.” Another tormenting whisper of fabric as she settled more comfortably. “I was up at dawn to help my aunt with Christmas preparations. I’m awfully tired.”

He’d lay good money that Amelia had stayed abed until noon. “There’s nothing much we can do except try and get some sleep.”

A blatant lie. He could think of a hundred things he’d prefer to do. He chanced sliding a fraction closer. “May I offer my shoulder as a pillow? We should make ourselves as comfortable as we can. We’ll be warmer huddled together.”

Very gently, expecting her to flinch away, he slid his arm around her straight shoulders and drew her down until her head rested on his shoulder. His heart gave a great thud of joy when she didn’t move away. She wasn’t in one of his coats and the worn merino of her dress was soft to his touch. Nowhere near as soft, he was sure, as her skin. The thought didn’t make him feel any sleepier.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, although nobody was within earshot.

“It’s purely for self-preservation.”

With her so close, a tantalizing female scent teased his senses. Tentatively so as not to alarm her, he brushed his cheek against her hair. It was as silky and thick as he’d imagined. Miss Philippa Sanders might have a sharp tongue, but she proved a lusciously sweet armful. He tightened his hold, ignoring her half-hearted protest, and rested his head back against the wall.

However undeserving he might be, Christmas this year had provided glorious gifts.

The Winter Wife: A Christmas Romance

Will a chance meeting on Christmas Eve
…

Alicia Sinclair, Countess of Kinvarra, cannot believe that fate has been so cruel as to strand her on the snowy Yorkshire moors with her estranged husband as her only hope of rescue. During their rare encounters, the arrogant earl and his countess act like hostile strangers. Now that Alicia has fallen into Kinvarra’s power, will he seek revenge for her desertion? Or does the dark, passionate man she once adored have entirely different plans for his headstrong wife?

...deliver a second chance at love?

Sebastian Sinclair, Earl of Kinvarra, has spent ten wretched years regretting the mistakes he made with his young bride, but after long separation, the barriers between them are insurmountable. Until an unexpected encounter one stormy night makes him wonder if the barriers of mistrust and thwarted desire are so insurmountable after all. When winter weather traps Sebastian and his proud, lovely wife in an isolated inn, could the earl and his headstrong countess have a Christmas miracle in store?

“His Christmas Cinderella” in
A Grosvenor Square Christmas
, a free anthology featuring stories from Anna Campbell, Shana Galen, Vanessa Kelly and Kate Noble

Four breathtakingly romantic tales of a Regency Christmas from four bestselling romance authors.

Down through the years, enchantment touches a tall gray house in Grosvenor Square. The legend of Lady Winterson’s Christmas ball promises true love and happiness to one lucky couple. Who will feel the magic this winter?

I’m very blessed with some wonderful writer friends. Instrumental in bringing
A Pirate for Christmas
to the light of day are Annie West, Sharon Archer, Vanessa Barneveld, and Christine Wells. I’d also like to say a special thank you to Hang Le who designed the beautiful cover.

Anna Campbell has written ten multi award-winning historical romances for Grand Central Publishing and Avon HarperCollins and her work is published in sixteen languages. Her most recent full-length release is
A Scoundrel by Moonlight
(Grand Central Forever, April 2015). Anna has won numerous awards for her Regency-set stories including
RT Book Reviews
Reviewers Choice, the Booksellers Best, the Golden Quill (three times), the Heart of Excellence (twice), the Write Touch, the Aspen Gold (twice), the Australian Novella of the Year, and the Australian Romance Readers Association’s favorite historical romance (five times). Anna lives on the beautiful east coast of Australia where she writes full-time.