Kimberly Lang: The Privileged and the Damned

‘This enjoyable tale about a pair who think they’re embarking on a sexy fling that soon turns serious treats readers to all the emotions, and all the highs and lows, that love entails.’

—RT Book Reviews on

The Secret Mistress Arrangement

‘A sizzling tale of lust developing into love …’

—www.cataromance.com on

Magnate’s Mistress … Accidentally Pregnant!

‘Talented author Kimberly Lang delivers a fresh, up-to-date story filled with strong characters and enough sexual tension to set hearts a-twitter. Entertains with witty repartee and sizzling passion.’

—www.cataromance.com on

The Millionaire’s Misbehaving Mistress

KIMBERLY LANGhid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily ever after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.comfor the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

Redemption of the Hollywood Starlet

The Power and the Glory

The Girls’ Guide to Flirting with Danger

What Happens in Vegas …

Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks!

Magnate’s Mistress … Accidentally Pregnant!

The Millionaire’s Misbehaving Mistress

The Secret Mistress Arrangement

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Jayk and Erica, who should really teach classes on how to raise awesome husbands. I can’t thank you enough for mine.

GOOSE tossed his head and danced sideways, jerking Lily’s attention back from her reverie just in time to see him angle her dangerously close to a low hanging branch. She ducked at the last second and steered him back to the path. “Behave yourself, you spoiled horse.”

Goose merely snorted in response.

It would be her own fault if Goose’s bad attitude unseated her. She knew better than to let her attention drift—Goose simply loved to challenge a rider and see who was really in charge—but the peace and beauty of the Marshall estate was hypnotic at times. When combined with the gentle cadence of Goose’s walk as he cooled down from his run, it was hard not to let her mind drift away.

All those people who paid money for fancy yoga classes or time on a shrink’s couch just needed to spend half an hour doing exactly this. They could quit twisting themselves into pretzels to meditate or digging up their daddy issues in search of peace. This was free therapy.

No, it was better than free; the Marshalls actually paid her. It was crazy, but true, and she thanked her lucky stars every single day that she’d landed here. It was perfect.

They were almost to the river, and Goose began to trot as the break in the trees grew closer. She could see the early-morning sunlight glinting off the water, and she turned her face up to the sky to let it warm her skin as they crossed the treeline. Goose walked straight to the water’s edge and waded in, and only a sharp tug kept him from going directly to a depth guaranteed to soak her only pair of boots.

“Not this time, Goose. I’m on to your tricks. I’m not walking around with wet feet all day again.”

As if he understood, Goose made a sound suspiciously like a disappointed huff, then lowered his head to drink. Pulling out her own water bottle, she took a moment to enjoy the view of the sun peeping over the mountains in the distance while she drank.

The Marshall estate—Hill Chase—was a little slice of heaven on earth. It was close enough to D.C. to allow easy escape and respite for the various family members immersed in politics and government, but it felt light years away from all that. It was also a business unto itself—as well as the family’s home—and Lily did her best to just blend in with the scores of other employees. She took a deep breath of the clean air and blew it out, and the knowledge she’d been too cautious to really accept settled on her shoulders like the sunshine.

Her social worker had told her this day would come. Lily hadn’t believed Jerry then, but now …

She really could start over. She already had, she corrected herself. The Lily she used to be was fading more and more every day, and the Lily she was now had finally begun to feel like the real her—like she’d been trapped inside a box and was just now able to freely move and breathe.

She shook her head to clear away the fanciful thoughts. While she’d be perfectly happy to spend all day right here, she still had two more horses that needed their exercise and a long list of other chores waiting for her at the stable. “Come on, Goose. Let’s go.”

“Already? You just got here.”

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice, and her water bottle dropped out of her hand to land in the shallow water next to Goose’s feet. She twisted sideways in the saddle to locate the owner of the voice and found a man swimming just a few yards away, only his head and shoulders visible above the water.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The man’s grin belied the apology.

“Just startled.” That much was true. The estate was private, and no one knew she was here anyway, so she had no cause to be scared. Plus, as Goose’s head jerked up he whinnied, seeming to recognize the voice. A second later the horse began to wade deeper toward the man, completely ignoring her scolds and attempts to stop him.

Thankfully, the man met them halfway, and she was able to tuck her feet up closer to the saddle and out of the water. Goose’s big head lolled in pleasure as the man rubbed his nose, the reunion causing them both to ignore her for a moment.

And she needed that moment. The man was now close enough for her to recognize him: Ethan Marshall, one of Senator Marshall’s many grandsons. She’d heard he was just back from an extended trip overseas—hell, the whole estate was abuzz with the news—and though she’d seen plenty of pictures, those pictures were nothing compared to reality.

All the Marshalls were genetically lucky—honey-blond hair, deep green eyes, strong jawlines under high cheekbones—but Ethan seemed to have won the lottery, combining those individual features into something more … more … Just more. Thick hair—curling just the slightest bit around his ears—dripped water onto broad, tanned shoulders. There, the droplets joined with others to run in rivulets over a set of lovely pecs and abs before meeting the water lapping his waist.