By Renee Bernard
** bold video games. Dangerously scrumptious results. ** gorgeous Eve Reynolds performs the function of a naive younger debutante, yet her demure visual appeal hides an skilled cardplayer who, at her uncle's instigation, is engaged in fleecing London aristocrats within the high-stakes card video games favorite by way of society. purely London's so much infamous rake, Julian Clay, the Earl of Westleigh, sees via her wiles, for he acknowledges a fellow gambler while he sees one. Lured by way of the eagerness in Eve's stormy eyes, so at odds together with her reserved splendor, Julian lays impassioned siege to her. And Eve responds with a emerging hearth of hope that leaves at the back of all good warning, until eventually either Julian and Eve can examine not anything however the searing hours they spend in each one other's fingers. yet Eve's uncle desires her to play for the top stakes through creating a good fit with a prosperous lord...and Eve has her personal mystery cause of following his plan. even though Julian started to play recklessly to seduce a smart younger woman, now he desires even more from Eve, and nobody will cease him from risking every little thing on one ultimate video game that may win him Eve's center and soul endlessly. **
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Extra resources for A Rogue's Game (Mistress Trilogy, Book 3)
For all its size it was pathetically scrawny under the shaggy fur and she wondered if it was a stray, until she saw a glimpse of black collar buried in the shaggy ruff around its neck. ‘Come here and let’s see who you are,’ she said, but when she tried to slide her fingers under the black webbing the dog pranced away, returning to duck and snuffle at her sandy toes, skittering away again as she squealed with ticklish laughter at the rough swipe of its tongue. She put her hands on her hips and tried a stern, ‘Heel,’ but the hairy head merely cocked in momentary puzzlement before it loped over to give a doggy salute to a stunted shrub at the corner of the house, a performance greatly facilitated by not having to cock a leg.
Licking the last of the yoghurt off her spoon, Kate left the bowl on the step and strolled down to the beach with her green tea. The sand was cool under her bare feet and the crystal-clear water shockingly cold as she paddled out to ankle depth. As she turned to wade back to shore she saw a lone male SUSAN NAPIER 39 figure standing on the upper deck of the house next door. He was shirtless, his dark mahogany chest smooth and glossy in the sunlight, his tapering torso cut off at the waist by the solid balcony wall, making her wonder if he was fully nude.
It was quite the ugliest animal she had ever seen, looking like a lanky cross between a foolish Afghan and giant poodle on a bad-hair day, with a ridiculous tail that curved lopsidedly over its back in a soggy flag of defiance. It smelled strongly of seaweed and wet wool. ’ she said, tugging the spoon out of its gummy mouth, pulling a face at the skein of drool that came along with it. ’ She could have sworn the dog grinned at her before starting to slaver at the pieces of china, rattling them against the stone.