Lady Northam’s Wicked Surrender

Lady Northam’s Wicked Surrender

Erotic Regency | Length: Novella | Wicked Liaisons, Book 1

A midnight encounter between two estranged lovers rekindles a passion beyond their wildest dreams…

Rowena, Countess of Northam, is surprised to find her former suitor has returned from India and is on his way to the very house where she is staying. When he appears in her room late at night, she can only believe it is a dream. Her fantasy soon becomes reality when Simon makes every effort to seduce her.

Despite his six year absence, and the fact that Rowena married his best friend, Simon is determined to have her back now that she is a widow. It soon becomes clear that while her body craves his affections, she doesn’t trust him enough to give her heart. Can Simon forget her past betrayal and convince her to surrender to the greatest love they’ve ever known?


An hour later, Rowena was in bed, although peaceful rest proved elusive. She patted her pillow and turned on her side for the hundredth time. How many days would it take Simon to arrive? Would she manage to get through her visit without having to see him at all?

And, if she did see him, what would she say? Could she ask him the question that had burned for so many years in her heart? Why did you abandon me?

She still couldn’t fathom the answer. He’d promised to write to her when he’d gone off to the War in Spain. She thought he intended to propose upon his return, but instead he’d never contacted her at all. His best friend, Paul, convinced her that Simon was a rake, never the type to settle down. That she was one of many conquests. She’d been devastated. Their two months of courtship had been nothing more than an amusement to him. By the time he’d returned to England over a year and a half later, she’d agreed to marry Paul.

Now he was coming back, threatening to turn her entire world upside down again. Could she survive it a second time?

Sighing, she shifted and turned her body to the opposite side. It had been so long since she’d seen him at the wedding. Only a few weeks afterward, he’d taken another post in India. Rowena wondered how he looked now. Did he still wear his sideburns short and neatly trimmed? Was he as tall as she remembered?

With a loud sigh, she turned on her back and stared at the ceiling, invisible in the pitch-dark room. Barely a sliver of light shown through the curtains at the window. There was nothing to distract her from her thoughts. As much as she dreaded seeing him, she couldn’t help her curiosity. A part of her wanted to see his face, to stand beside his tall, muscular frame and—and—What? Yell at him? Strike his cheek? Kiss him? She wanted to…

Sleep. Rowena’s eyelids were heavy and she couldn’t keep them open any longer. Exhaustion overpowered her thoughts, and she fell into a deep sleep, filled with vivid dreams.

Warmth spread over her, across her chest, down her arms and thighs. Despite the chill in the air, Rowena twisted in the blankets, her body flushed all over. Her mind lost in the dream.

She was lying down in her chemise and a tall, broad shouldered man was coming towards her intently. He climbed into the bed and lightly gripped her sides. Little trickles of electricity spread through her skin.

When his fingers spread wide and stroked her from her belly all the way up to her breasts, she forgot to breathe. He palmed them firmly and she wondered what it would be like to have him touch her without the fabric in between.

The man’s touch was bold, hungry and she arched into it, her body curving like a bowstring. Tension spread down to her thighs and she longed for him to push them apart. He leaned down in the darkness and she gripped his hair, pulling him toward her. Their mouths fused and a heady rush went through her as his tongue laved hers, filling her even as he demanded complete control.

He pinned her arms to her sides and she melted under him, pliant and willing. Something about the way he stroked his tongue over hers, the low sound he made, stirred a memory inside her.

Rowena looked into the eyes of the man leaning over her and in the darkness, recognized them. Simon. In her dream, he was as she remembered. Intense blue-gray eyes, a strong jaw and a taut muscular chest that she’d always longed to touch.

Before she could speak, he pinched her nipple and rolled it between his fingers. “Ah!” A sharp twinge of pain gave way to exquisite pleasure, which snaked its way down to pool at the juncture of her thighs. He took his time, teasing and pinching, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing her skin in a delicious fashion. Her lower belly clenched under the onslaught.

With ragged breaths, she watched as he freed her breast to suckle it. Though she was now free to move her arms again, she stayed still. The chilly night air spread over her puckered nipple when he lifted his head. She shivered in response.

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