9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel

HER DEVIANT LORD

Pleasure Garden Follies 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Layna Pimentel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Erotic Romance

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Secret Cravings Publishing

www.secretcravingspublishing.com

 

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A Secret Cravings
Publishing Book

Erotic Romance

 

Her Deviant Lord

Copyright © 2013
Layna Pimentel

E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-959-4

 

First E-book
Publication: November 2013

 

Cover design by
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A war is brewing, a war that could destroy an entire
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HER DEVIANT LORD

Pleasure Garden Follies 3

Layna Pimentel

Copyright © 2013

 

 

Prologue

 

Wycliffe awoke to the sound of a door closing and cutlery clamoring
about. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to the side to see dark,
beady eyes glaring back at him.

“I see you have awakened from a dead sleep. You had quite the swoon, sir.
We were not certain if we should have had
a pine box made
up.” The old woman spoke while tapping at his leg. His bare leg.
Good God! I’m nude!

He shuddered to think that the old bat had stripped him of his clothes.
Come to think of it…
He searched for
them on the chair then on the floor, but they were nowhere to be found.

Christ
. “Woman, what have you done with my shirt and pants?”

“They are off to be laundered, sir. We thought that when you woke, you
would care for a bath and clean clothes. We meant no offence.”

Of course not. After all, he was the one who had swooned like a woman,
thinking he was seeing a ghost.

“If you do not mind my inquiring sir, what had you in a state? Should we
summon the village healer?”

“Nonsense, I will be fine. Once my garments are dry and I have fed, I
will be on my way.”

“Fine, fine, I will go and see to your things. You should know, you have
upset quite a few of the patrons, including Mrs. Weylen. The moment she saw
you, we did not know if she was going to toss her crumpets either. It was quite
the fright, sir. Yes, it was. Should have seen her.”

“And where is Mrs. Weylen now? I would like to…
err
…apologize, for my dastardly behavior.”

“Oh, she does not live here in town. She be living east of here. Only
comes to town to trade goods on behalf of old maid, Corinne. The only spinster
in these parts. With those two women out there in the middle of nowhere, I am
quite surprised no highwayman has abducted the beauty. She’s a widow, you
know.”

A widow, eh?
His Cordelia was in hiding, masking as a widow. Or was it entirely all
his imagination? “And how long has this woman been here?”

“I imagine for a while. She lost her husband some time ago, and it is
only her and…”

His thoughts blanked out. It could not be her. She would have found a
way back to him by now, if she had truly survived.

“Thank you, that will be all. My clothes would be much appreciated.”

“Very well, sir. If they are not yet dry, shall I find something else
suitable to your size?”

He nodded. He didn’t want to spend another moment here unless he had to.
It was humiliating enough to know what had happened, but to think it was all in
vain—over a widow who was not her—did not do a thing for his peace of mind.

As soon as the old woman left the room, he kicked back the sheet and
strode toward the tray of food on a table next to the bed. Eggs, bacon, and
some lukewarm tea. Anything was better than heading back to his country home on
an empty stomach, with his thoughts leaning toward how much of a lunatic he
was. Not only was he a deviant lord, he was close to committing himself into an
asylum for these visions.

The room lacked the fineries he was accustomed to. A warm fire didn’t
burn as it should. His blanket appeared to have aged longer than dear Aunt
Edith. The painted walls now peeled. Chips curling as if they had been shaved.
Staring at the dilapidated structure around him, he thought more on what had
driven him to this point in his life.

These were things he didn’t think his friends the Earl of Bridgeton and the
Marquess of Stoughton would understand, and he certainly was not going to tempt
fate. Just how would they handle knowing that an acquaintance preferred to have
dominant sessions with his lovers? Expecting nothing less than their full
submission, their bodies relinquished to his needs. He loved, adored, demanded
to mark their skin in a way that served as a reminder of who they served.

That was one of the reasons why he had fallen in love with Cordelia. She
had made his duty to command and master easy. She had given her submission
without a question or battle. She had aimed to please him in every regard, and
now she was gone. And never coming back.

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