Seductive as Flame

Table of Contents

 

 

Praise for the novels of Susan Johnson

“Susan Johnson is the author of some of the best—the very best—books in historical romance.”

—
All About Romance

 

“A lusty tale.”

—
Night Owl Reviews

 

“Susan Johnson is a queen of erotic, exciting romance who soars to new heights with each novel.”

—
RT Book Reviews

 

“Johnson delivers another fast, titillating read that overflows with sex scenes and rapid-fire dialogue.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“A spellbinding read and a lot of fun . . . Johnson takes sensuality to the edge, writing smoldering stories with characters the reader won’t want to leave.”

—
The Oakland (MI) Press

 

“Smart . . . sexy . . . sensuous . . . [Her] books are legendary!”

—Robin Schone,
USA Today
bestselling author

 

“Sensually charged writing . . . Johnson knows exactly what her devoted readers desire, and she delivers it with her usual flair.”

—
Booklist

 

“Fascinating . . . The author’s style is a pleasure to read.”

—
Los Angeles Herald-Examiner

 

“Flat-out fabulous, sexy [novels] so textured they sometimes compare . . . to the phenomenal Judith Ivory.”

HOT PINK
HOT LEGS
HOT SPOT
FRENCH KISS
WINE, TARTS, & SEX
HOT PROPERTY
GORGEOUS AS SIN
SEXY AS HELL
SWEET AS THE DEVIL
SEDUCTIVE AS FLAME

 

TWIN PEAKS

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

SEDUCTIVE AS FLAME

 

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / December 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Susan Johnson.

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. For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

ISBN : 978-1-101-55245-2

 

BERKLEY SENSATION
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Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY SENSATION
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CHAPTER 1

Groveland Chase, November 1894

T
HE DUKE AND Duchess of Groveland were entertaining at their hunting lodge in the West Riding. The original party had been small, although more guests had arrived yesterday, and tomorrow the local squires and farmers would come out for the day’s hunt. As was often the case with country house parties, those invited arrived with unexpected companions. Charlie Bonner, for instance, had come with his wife, who neither rode to hounds nor liked the country.
“Sorry Fitz,”
Charlie had murmured with a grin for his host.
“I couldn’t shake off Bella.”
And surprisingly, Lord Dalgliesh had brought
his
wife. They barely spoke. But her young son had wanted to see a hunt, someone said, and Lord Dalgliesh doted on the boy.

Not that all aristocratic marriages were as ill conceived and regrettable, although love matches
were
a rarity in the haute monde. Long-held custom in the fashionable world had always viewed matrimony as a business transaction and marriage settlements as a means of enhancing family wealth, prestige, or bloodlines. Should anyone be looking for love, that was available elsewhere.

Naturally, there were exceptions to prevailing custom. Three of those exceptions were currently having coffee and brandy in a sitting room off the terrace. The Duke of Groveland and his friends, Lords Lennox and Blackwood, were having an early morning eye-opener while waiting for their beloved wives to come down for breakfast.

“To family.” With a smile, the duke raised his cup. “May our tribes increase.”

“A pleasant endeavor,” Oz Lennox murmured. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jamie Blackwood lifted his cup. “We’re fortunate, all of us.”

“Indeed. To kind fate,” Oz said softly and drained his drink.

A small silence fell, each man fully conscious that life was uncertain, a gamble at best. They all understood how impossibly long the odds had been against meeting the women they loved in the great vastness of the world. How bereft their lives would have been had they not.

Into this contemplative moment a striding figure intruded, sweeping past the long span of French doors. The woman was tall, with magnificent flame-red hair, the spectacular lynx coat she wore equally resplendent.

Fitz smiled as she disappeared from sight. “Rumor has it she’s a witch.”

“In more ways than one,” Oz drawled, pushing himself upright in his chair in sudden interest. “What?” He shot his friends a grin. “I love my wife, but I’m not dead. Did you see those flashy spurs? I’ll bet she’s a wildcat in bed.”

“And you should know,” Fitz waggishly noted.

Oz cast a sardonic glance at his friend. “Please—as if either of you were Puritans before you married. Hell, Fitz, you had Willery’s bountiful daughter sizing you up under Rosalind’s eye last night at dinner. I thought she might lean over just a little more and let her plump, quivering breasts spill over on your plate. And Bella practically ate Jamie alive while we were having drinks in the drawing room.” He shot a look at James Blackwood, who’d spent years standing stud to not only Bella but a great many other ladies. “Did you have to make amends to Sofie afterward? She didn’t look happy.”

“Bella’s always been difficult,” Jamie coolly replied. “Sofie understands.”

“I beg to differ,” Oz drolly said. “I know Sofie. She doesn’t understand at all.”

“Let’s just say I was able to atone for Bella’s sins. Satisfied ? And the enticing Zelda happens to be my cousin, so mind your manners.”

Oz grinned. “You’re kidding. Zelda? What a perfect name for a bodacious lady witch.”

“Her name’s Griselda, so relax,” Jamie muttered. “And the gossip about witches arose because she’s recently returned from the jungles of Brazil with some native artifacts she chooses to wear. She’s no more a witch than you or I.”

“She raised all her younger siblings when her mother died, didn’t she?” Fitz commented.

Jamie nodded. “All five of them.”

“So witch and earth mother,” Oz waggishly noted. “Every male fantasy.”

Jamie gave his friend a warning glance. “Fucking behave.”

“Or?” Oz’s grin was brilliant.

“Or I’ll tell Isolde you’re lusting after my cousin,” Jamie silkily returned.

“And I’ll tell her I’m not.”

“Screw you,” Jamie muttered.

“I’m afraid I’m no longer available,” Oz sweetly replied. “My wife doesn’t approve.”

The stunning apparition suddenly hove back into view, arresting the raillery. Coming to a stop at one of the doors, the flame-haired woman opened it and stood for a moment on the threshold, her tall form limned in golden sunshine.

The extravagant lynx coat fell to her ankles, her flamboyant hair was untamed and wind tossed, her long, slender legs buckskin clad, her booted and spurred feet firmly planted. While a faint smile graced her lovely mouth, mild query arched her dark brows. “Am I intruding?”

“No, not at all. Do come in, Zelda,” Jamie quickly offered, rising from his chair along with the other men. “You’re up early.”

“It’s not that early. Hullo, everyone.” The rowels on her spurs jingled quietly as she walked in and shut the door. “Father and I’ve been out riding since dawn,” she said, turning to the men and stripping off her gloves. “Although I seem to have lost him somewhere between here and the stables.”

“No doubt he stopped to talk to someone.” Sir Gavin was everyone’s friend. “You know Fitz,” Jamie observed. “And this is Lord Lennox. Oz, my cousin, Zelda MacKenzie.”

“A pleasure,” Oz said, moving forward and putting out his hand. “You must tell my wife where you found your coat. It’s magnificent.”

“Thank you.” He had a very lucky wife, Zelda thought, shaking his hand, and he must care for her or he wouldn’t have mentioned her in his first breath. “A wonderful tailor in Edinburgh made this for me. I can give you his name if you like.”

“I would.” Oz’s smile was boyishly warm. “You weren’t here last night.”

“We came in very late.”

“Would you like a drink?” Fitz interjected, because Oz charmed without even trying and Jamie had warned him off. “We’re drinking our breakfast.”

“Fitz has smuggled brandy so it tastes much better,” Oz said, shifting slightly to include his friends in the conversation. “I recommend it.”

“Perfect. Just what I need. And may I compliment you on your jumps, Lord Groveland,” she added, turning to her host. “They’re wicked. I’m looking forward to the chase.”