I love getting great reviews from review sites. But what's even better is finding a review that was given by a regular reader. I have one I'd like to share with you...and an excerpt to entice, of course.
5 stars! Everyone loves a good plot. But Phyllis Campbell has gone a step beyond our expectations with this one. She brings in healthy subplots, believable characters and witty dialogue that kept me entertained through the whole story. Her characters have a cheekiness that make you smile along with them. The comedic enjoyment is only surpassed by the love story which encompasses warmth, caring, compassion and heat. I loved every minute of it! ~~ Julianna Stephens, author
Edmund settled in his chair and picked up the deck of cards. Everything was falling perfectly into place. Surprisingly, she hadn’t noticed his cheating, but that, too, was part of his seduction. Now as the game was almost finished, it was his turn to win. Once she forfeited, he’d have her soft body against his as he lavished her mouth with kisses.
She wouldn’t fight. The way she’d ogled his body let him know she thought about touching it, almost as much as he wanted to touch hers. She was a well-trained seductress. Well skilled at playing the innocent.
He shuffled and dealt out the correct amount of cards, making certain she couldn’t win. Megan looked at her cards. By her sorrowful expression, the realization of having a bad hand was starting to settle in.
The firelight behind her tinted the red in her auburn hair, which contrasted her pale face. Yes, she definitely didn’t have the impassive countenance required for gambling. She wasn’t gifted at deceit, at least at cards. So different from her father. But in time, Saxton’s bad seed would rub off on his daughter.
For a moment, a pang of guilt pierced his chest. Perhaps he should have given her a full house. But when he imagined her soft hands upon his bare chest, he dismissed the idea.
She lifted her gaze and smiled through her saddened expression. “I would like three cards, please.” She slid the three she wanted to exchange across the table.
He nodded and gave her three. “And I’ll take one.” He lay his cards face up on the table. “I have four Jacks. What do you have?”
She sighed with a frown, her shoulders wilting as she placed her cards on the table. “I have two eights and two sixes and a King.”
He chuckled. “I’m relieved to see you’re off your winning streak.” He widened his grin. “What will you forfeit?”
She tapped her fingernail on the table for a moment, before her face brightened and she reached to her lap, pulling up his shirt.
“I’ll give you back your shirt.”
He didn’t know whether to get upset or laugh. The little minx had tricked him, but she was correct in assuming she could return his clothes.
He took the shirt and smiled. “Thank you.”
He realized how clever she was. Now he knew her game. She intended to return his clothes, forcing him to redress, but that wasn’t his plan. Would he ever get the kiss he so desperately sought? Strong desire mingled with his need for revenge.
“Are you going to put it on?” She gave him an expectant look.
He nodded, slipping his arms through the sleeves, but he didn’t button it.
Dealing the next hand, he put the higher cards in his favor. The game was called, and she had a small straight. He held four Queens.
Just as before, she handed over his waist-coat and he slipped it on. The next game, she handed over his cravat, and he hung it around his neck. Now he had her. This time when she lost, she’d have to give him a kiss. He dealt the cards again, purposely giving her the lower hand. She held two Jacks, a ten and two fives. He had a full house.
He grinned. “It appears you have no more clothes to return to me.”
She nodded without answering.
“So I assume a kiss is in order. Unless…”
“Unless you would like to take off your robe?”
Her face flamed a brilliant red. He held back the laughter readying to erupt from his throat.
“No. I will forfeit a kiss.”
Her tongue glided out to moisten her lips, causing his immediate arousal. She looked so provocative. Did she know what lustful thoughts flew through his head—fantasies he wanted to act upon? Of course she did. She couldn’t possibly be the innocent girl she portrayed.
He stood and moved to her side. Her gaze had dropped to her lap as her fingers twisted together.
“My lady?” He reached down to take a cold hand in his, the soft whiteness contrasting against his dark tan. He pulled her to her feet, her reluctance showed through her stiff limbs. He would change that soon. She was good at this game, but he was better.
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