Sarah Mallory - A Lady for Lord Randall

The yacht was rocking gently. Mary turned over and cradled her cheek on her hand. He had not even offered her an apology. Really, the man was impossible. He had no manners, no finesse. No wonder he had to pay for his, his pleasures as he called them. Surely no woman would want his attentions. But here she found herself remembering the glint in his blue eyes, the way his rare smile had sent her heart racing, the way her senses reeled when he had kissed her. He might well be able to please a woman, if he were to exert himself...

* * *

‘Miss Endacott! Miss! We will be arriving in Ostend very soon.’

The cabin boy’s shouts penetrated Mary’s dreams. She stretched, luxuriating in pleasantly sensuous feelings that still lingered until reality stepped in and she sat up quickly. Heavens, had she been dreaming of Lord Randall? She crossed her arms and hugged herself, trying to recall her dreams, but they had flown, leaving only the vague sense of well-being.

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