Rebellious Rakes: Rake Most Likely to Rebel
Rebellious RakesOutrageous hell-raisers let loose in Europe!Rake Most Likely To RebelHaviland North, Viscount Amersham, has come to Paris to prove his skill with the blade. But feisty Alyssandra Leodegrance is not the opponent he was expecting! As expert swordplay leads to sizzling sensuality it’s difficult to say who will win…or what they will claim as their prize!Rake Most Likely To ThrillArcher Crawford is in Siena to compete in its notorious horse race – only daredevils need apply! But on his first night, he meets beautiful Elisabeta di Nofri. Elisabeta is determined to savour one last taste of freedom before an unwelcome marriage is forced upon her. Can Archer and Elisabeta risk everything to win what they truly want…?
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BRONWYN SCOTT is a communications instructor at Pierce College in the United States, and is the proud mother of three wonderful children (one boy and two girls). When sheâs not teaching or writing she enjoys playing the piano, travellingâespecially to Florence, Italyâand studying history and foreign languages. Readers can stay in touch on Bronwynâs website, www.bronwynnscott.com, or at her blog, www.bronwynswriting.blogspot.com She loves to hear from readers.
Rebellious Rakes
Rake Most Likely to Rebel
Rake Most Likely to Thrill
Bronwyn Scott
ISBN: 978-1-474-08532-8
REBELLIOUS RAKES
Rake Most Likely to Rebel © 2015 Nikki Poppen Rake Most Likely to Thrill © 2015 Nikki Poppen
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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Table of Contents
Bronwyn Scott
For Monsieur Rouse, high school French
teacher extraordinaire: Votre ardeur pour la langue insuffle mon fil. Merci. (Je regrette, I have not conjugated âto inspireâ for some time. I hope the form is correct on insuffle!)
And for Ro and Bronyâwe will see the City of
Light (La Ville Lumière) together soon
Dover docksâMarch 1835
There were no pleasures left in London. One could only hope Paris would do better. Haviland North turned up the collar of his greatcoat against the damp of the early March morning and paced the Dover docks, anxious to be away with the tide.
All of his hopes were pinned on France now and its famed salle dâarmes. If springtime in Paris should fail to stimulate his stagnant blood, the rest of Europe awaited to take its turn. He could spend summer among the mighty peaks of the Alps, testing his strength on their crags, autumn among the arts and graces of Florence, winter in Venice feasting on the sensuality of Carnevale and another spring, if he could manage it. This time in Naples, basking in the heat of southern Italy with its endless supply of the ancient. If those destinations did not succeed, there was always Greece and the alluring, mysterious Turkey.
The exotic litany of places rolled through his mind, a mantra of hopefulness and perhaps a mantra of fantasy. His father had promised him six months, not a year or two. It would all have to be managed very carefully. In truth, Haviland preferred it not come to that simply because of what the need for such lengths indicated about his current stateâthat at the age of twenty-eight and with everything to live for: the title, the vast fortune that went with it, the estates, the horses, the luxuries other men spent their lives acquiringâhe was dead inside after all.
