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The Naked Earl

The Naked Gentleman

The Naked Marquis

The Naked Baron

The Naked Duke

The Naked Viscount

The Naked King

Sally MacKenzie

KENSINGTON BOOKS
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

Table of Contents

The Naked Earl

The Naked Gentleman

The Naked Marquis

The Naked Baron

The Naked Duke

The Naked Viscount

The Naked King

Praise for
The Naked Marquis


The Naked Marquis
is an endearing confection of sweetness and sensuality, the romance equivalent of chocolate cake…every page is an irresistible delight!”—Lisa Kleypas,
New York Times
bestselling author

“With a delightfully quirky cast of characters and heated bedroom encounters, MacKenzie’s latest
Naked
novel delivers a humorous, sprightly romance.”—
Romantic Times BOOK Reviews

“A pure delight…filled with very lovable characters, and perhaps the sexiest hero I’ve read in a long, long time.”—rakehell.com

“Charming…funny…full of delightful characters…
The Naked Marquis
merits a place on the keeper shelves of readers of the traditional Regency and the spicier Regency-set historical romances alike.”—
Romance Reviews Today

“A delightful read.”—
Fallen Angels Reviews

“A wild, witty, and wonderful romance.”—coffeetimeromance.com

“Sally MacKenzie has written a book filled with steam and humor.”—themysticcastle.com

“A sensual and breathtaking story that drew me in and would not let me move until the final sentence was finished.”—
Romance Junkies

“MacKenzie’s mix of humor and sensuality, with just a hint of suspense, definitely works….
The Naked Marquis
is a lot offun.”—booksforabuck.com

“A highly enchanting and thoroughly polished novel…you will not want to let the characters out of your sight. Their lives are your life, their discoveries are your discoveries, and their passions become your desires.”—roadtoromance.ca


The Naked Marquis
is a delicious indulgence. Treat yourself!”—onceuponaromance.net

“With Sally MacKenzie’s
The Naked Marquis
, you’ll never stop laughing at the antics of the countryside.”—
Writers Unlimited

Praise for
The Naked Duke

“MacKenzie sets a merry dance in motion in this enjoyable Regency romp.”—
Booklist

“This is a funny, delightful debut by a talented writer who knows how to blend passion, humor and the essence of the Regency period into a satisfying tale.”—
Romantic Times BOOK Reviews

“Delightful Regency story of love and danger.”—
The Best Reviews


The Naked Duke
is a thoroughly enjoyable story with several wonderful characters.”—
Romance Reviews Today

“A well-written and enjoyable first novel. Ms. MacKenzie has a wonderful voice.”—
The Romance Readers Connection

“Debut author Sally MacKenzie has penned a marvelously witty novel…. Readers who enjoy a large dose of humor will love
The Naked Duke
. The characters are charming, and the pace is quick. It is the perfect book for a cozy winter retreat.”—aromancereview.com

“If you like Regency-set romances that offer both humor and excitement, you should enjoy reading
The Naked Duke
. MacKenzie’s voice is fresh and intriguing, her characterization is sound, she knows the period—and her villain is extremely nasty.”—rakehell.com

“We just might have a new star in the making! This is definitely a new author that one should take a closer look at.”—
Historical Romance Writers

“Author Sally MacKenzie combines humor and suspense in her debut novel.”—booksforabuck.com

“Sally MacKenzie’s first novel,
The Naked Duke
, runs a range of emotions that will have you laughing out loud and then biting your nails in anticipation…. The characters were realistic, the story was fast paced and the love story of an American girl returning to her father’s homeland to find love and happiness is straight out of a fairy tale.”—
Fallen Angel Reviews

PLEASE EXPLAIN

“Be that as it may, miss, you cannot entertain naked men in your room and not promptly attire your finger with an engagement ring.”

Meg squeaked again. She was becoming a regular mouse.

“Robbie was
naked?

“Well…yes.” Lizzie feared she would spontaneously combust from mortification. “In a manner of speaking, that is.”

“Hmm.” Lady Bea’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “And how can a gentleman be naked
in a manner of speaking?

Lizzie would not meet the older woman’s eyes. “It was dark.”

The Naked Earl

SALLY MACKENZIE

ZEBRA BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

Helen R. Stanton
September 4, 1917–May 23, 2006
I love you, Mom.

 

For Dad, who reads romance, and for Kevin, Dan, Matt,
David, and Mike, who don’t.

 

Thanks to my writer pals
(www.romanceunleashed.com)
for keeping me sane.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter One

Robert Hamilton, Earl of Westbrooke, was a light sleeper. His eyes opened the moment his mattress shifted. He turned to see what had caused the disturbance.

Two very large, very naked breasts dangled in front of his nose. Damn! He looked up to see to whom they belonged. Lady Felicity Brookton. She gave him an arch look as she drew in her breath to scream.

Bloody hell.

He bolted from the bed and leapt for the window. There was no time for such niceties as breeches or shoes. Once Lady Felicity started her caterwauling, the entire house party would be banging on his door. He’d be securely caught in parson’s mousetrap, condemned to face Lady Felicity at the breakfast table every morning for the rest of his life.

Could there be a more succinct description of hell?

He swung his leg over the sill and dropped down onto the roof of the portico as she emitted her first screech. The sharp surface cut into his bare feet, but the pain was nothing to the panic raging in his chest.

He had to get away.

Thank God he had scrutinized the view from his window when he’d arrived at Tynweith’s house party. He’d made a habit of looking for escape routes since the ladies of the
ton
had gotten so persistent. If they only knew…. Well, if he was forced to flee naked from his bed perhaps it was time to do something. A discreet rumor judiciously planted should deter most marriage-minded maidens. He glanced back at his window. Or perhaps they would be happy to have his money and title without having to pay for them in his bed.

He shivered as an early spring breeze rushed over the portico. He couldn’t stand here like a nodcock. At any moment one of Tynweith’s guests would respond to Felicity’s screams, look out the window, and wonder what the Earl of Westbrooke was doing standing naked in the night. He snorted. Hell, all of Tynweith’s guests would assume they knew exactly what he had been doing, and he’d be as securely caught as if he’d stayed between his sheets.

It was much too long a distance to the ground to consider jumping. He had not quite reached that point of desperation.

Felicity screeched again. Someone shouted. He scanned the other windows that faced the portico. There, at the end—flickering candlelight showed an open window. He sprinted for it, hoping the room’s occupant was male.

Lady Elizabeth Runyon stood naked in front of her mirror, hands on hips, and frowned at her breasts. She tilted her head, squinting at them through her right eye and then her left. Bah! They were small, puny little lemons next to Lady Felicity’s lush, ripe melons. No corset in England could make them more impressive.

She turned sideways, grabbing the bedpost to steady herself. Perhaps this angle was more complimentary?

No.

A gust of cool air blew in from her open window, sliding over her skin, causing her nipples to tighten. She covered them with her hands, trying to push them back into place.

She had an odd tingly feeling, as if a vibrating harp string ran from her breasts to her…her…

She took her hands off her body as if burned. She should put her nightgown back on and climb into bed. Pull the covers up to her chin, close her eyes, and go to sleep. She would if the room didn’t swirl so unpleasantly when she did so. She grabbed for the bedpost again.

That last glass of ratafia had definitely been a mistake. She wouldn’t have taken it if she hadn’t been so bored. If she had to listen to Mr. Dodsworth drone on about his stables one more time…It was drink or scream. The man hadn’t had an original thought—or any thought that did not involve prime bits of blood—since her come out three years ago.

She leaned against the bedpost. How was she going to survive another Season? Seeing the same people, hearing the same conversation, tittering over the same gossip. It had been exciting when she was seventeen, but now…

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