Read For the Love of a Soldier Online
Authors: Victoria Morgan
For the Love of a Soldier
The opposite of never…
The carriage made another turn and his mood crested. Riding on this wave of exuberance, he leaned down and gently kissed Alexandra on her parted lips. A murmur escaped her and she lifted her hand to cup his cheek. Her fingers slid to the nape of his neck, curling into his hair, and he groaned. God, she felt so good, tasted better. Desire coursed through him, and he wrapped his arms around her body and crushed her to him, deepening the kiss.
Alexandra’s eyes flew open and she stared into his, wide-eyed and still.
His lips curved into a smile against hers.
She pushed against his chest, straining away from him. “Stop that,” she cried. “You can’t keep kissing me.”
“But I like kissing you. And your response tells me you liked it, too.”
“I was half asleep!” she protested.
He lowered his voice and pulled her back against him, liking the feel of her soft body against his. “Then imagine how much better it will be when you’re awake.”
She averted her face. “Lord Kendall, I told you—”
“Garrett.”
She looked at him, frowning in confusion.
“That’s my name. You used it earlier today. And now we’ve been intimate.”
She gasped and shoved against his chest so hard that he released her. “We most certainly have not! A few stolen kisses do not constitute intimacy.”
“Good, then let’s do it again.”
“Absolutely—”
Absolutely worked for him…
For the Love of a Soldier
V
ICTORIA
M
ORGAN
BERKLEY SENSATION, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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FOR THE LOVE OF A SOLDIER
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author.
Copyright © 2013 by Victoria Morgan.
Teaser excerpt by Victoria Morgan copyright © 2013 by Victoria Morgan.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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ISBN: 978-1-101-60921-7
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / March 2013
Cover art by Gregg Gulbronson.
Cover design by George Long.
Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.
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| ALWAYS LEARNING | PEARSON |
To my mother and my sister,
my earliest and biggest cheerleaders.
I couldn’t have completed this journey without my husband and children. Thank you for your incredible patience while I disappeared for days at a time. (Told you it wasn’t all about martinis with my writers’ group!) Special thanks to the New England Chapter of the Romance Writers of America and to my incredible critique partners, the Quirky Ladies—Kate, Nina, Tara, Michelle, and Liana! They kept telling me…‘
This is the one, this is the one.
’ I would also like to thank my fabulous agent, Laura Bradford (www.bradfordlit.com), and wonderful editor, Leis Pederson, at Berkley Publishing Group. They believed in this story and helped turn my manuscript into the best that it can be.
Chapter One
LONDON, ENGLAND
MAY 1855
S
OMETIMES
a woman runs out of choices.
Alexandra Langdon glowered at the door, willing herself to turn its brass knob. She didn’t belong inside the chamber. She risked discovery, expulsion, and scandal. Her stomach growled and reminded her why she was entering anyway. What did the pampered heirs inside their exclusive enclave know about hunger? The hollow, empty rumble of it. The slow, insidious gnaw of it. She had experienced it for so long, it was like a familiar adversary. One she vowed to conquer.
That is, if she could open the damn door and cross the forbidden threshold.
There was money to be had inside the gentleman’s card room. The Duke of Hammond hosted the grandest balls of the season. The cream of society attended, and while wives and debutantes danced the night away, husbands and bachelors sought refuge behind these doors. Rich men with fortunes to win or lose at the turn of a card. Alex just needed to possess the winning hand—and she would.
Her father had given her a gift and she planned to use it. It
was the only thing he had given her. For this, she loved and hated him.
She shook her head, wiped her clammy hands down her black dress trousers, resisted the urge to readjust her masculine wig, and once again, crossed into forbidden territory.
The familiar smells assaulted her first, a mixture of cigar smoke, whiskey, and men. The noise hit her next, the murmur of conversations, the rumbles of masculine laughter, and the crack of billiard balls striking together.
Burgundy carpet covered the floor, and dark wood-paneled walls were crowded with the familiar paintings of foxhunts. Red-coated riders leaned over straining horses, galloping after their prey. Alex’s sympathies lay with the fox. She knew the desperation of seeking safety in hidden crevices, the terror of being hunted. Her lips pressed into a determined line. Like the fox, she needed to keep alert for fear of getting caught.
Alex stepped farther into the room, eyes locked on the card table in the far corner. A game had broken up and new players were claiming the vacated seats. One of those chairs was hers. If she reached it in time.
A group of men blocked her path. Her head barely topped their shoulders as she circled them, threads of their conversation drifting to her.
“Kendall is back.”
The name echoed, ringing familiar to her. It had circulated throughout the house since her arrival downstairs, voiced in hushed tones that reverberated through the guests like a rippling tide.
“I thought he had returned last fall.”
“Well, he’s in town. And word’s out that he’s here tonight.”
