Take a trip to Spindle Cove in New York Times bestselling author Tessa Dare’s gorgeous and sexy Regency romance.
Beautiful and elegant, Miss Diana Highwood is destined to marry a wealthy, well-placed nobleman. At least that’s what her mother has loudly declared to everyone in Spindle Cove.
But Diana’s not excited by dukes and lords. The only man who makes her heart pound is the village blacksmith, Aaron Dawes. By birth and fortune, they couldn’t be more wrong for each other ... but during stolen, steamy moments in the smithy, his strong hands feel so right.
Is their love forged strong enough to last, or are they just playing with fire?
She approached the bar and settled on the seat, daintily
arranging her skirts.
Aaron lifted his drink, stealing glimpses at her out of the
corner of his eye. He’d spent a great many stolen moments admiring her, but
tonight was different.
She was different.
He couldn’t look at her tonight and see a paragon up on a pedestal. She was a
disheveled woman on a barstool. Damp from the rain, cheeks flushed, wisps of
flaxen hair matted to her brow. She looked impulsive. Sensual.
More beautiful than ever.
Between her intoxicating looks and the fact that he was on his
third whiskey, he was addled. He didn’t know what she was doing here, but so
long as she was sitting next to him he was going to stare. He propped his elbow
on the bar and drank in every detail of her rain-misted face, savoring.
He gaze fell to his tumbler of whiskey. “You’re having a
She picked up the tumbler and stared into it. “Is it brandy?”
Before he could get the words out, she’d lifted the glass to
her lips and tossed back half the contents in one swallow.
She set it down. Stared at it, wide-eyed. Coughed. “Oh. So it
After a moment’s pause, she lifted the tumbler again.
This time, he acted. He grasped her slender wrist, cutting her
draught short. “Miss Highwood, you shouldn’t.”
“Oh, I think I should. I think this is exactly what I need.”
“But your health.”
“You mean my asthma?” She set the tumbler down, and he
released her wrist. “My asthma hasn’t troubled me in years.”
“Of course it has. That’s why you’re here in Spindle Cove.”
She shook her head slowly. “I haven’t had a breathing crisis
since the one you witnessed here in this tavern. That was two summers ago.
Susanna consulted with physicians in London, and she thinks I’ve outgrown it.
People do, she said. Apparently, I’m...I’m cured.”
About the Author
Tessa Dare a part-time librarian, full-time mommy, and swing-shift writer. She makes her home in Southern California, where she shares a cozy, cluttered bungalow with her husband, their two children, and a dog.