Kasey Michaels - How to Tame a Lady

Dear Reader,

Would you attempt a five-barred fence on horseback? Were you “born for adventure”? Willing to try any dare, reach for any star, challenge any rule?

If so, Nicole Daughtry is your sister. If not, then she’s what we all wish in our heart of hearts we could be, even just once in our lives.

When Nicole runs into Lucas Paine—literally!—the sophisticated marquess is for the first time in his life totally at a loss for words.

He looks at her and thinks marriage (and a few other things men tend to think about when presented with an unimaginably beautiful woman!).

She unabashedly looks back at him and thinks adventure!

And an adventure they will have: one fraught with danger from an unscrupulous man’s ambition to their own desires—their all-consuming hunger for each other that will defy convention, thanks to a mutual passion that cannot be denied.

I hope you enjoy How to Tame a Lady. How to Tempt a Duke , the story of Nicole’s brother Rafe Daughtry, came prior to this story.

Nicole has a twin, by the way, the much more circumspect and careful Lydia. Stay tuned for her story, coming soon. And don’t forget to visit my website at www.kaseymichaels.com for information about all my books!

Enjoy!

Kasey Michaels

“ A Reckless Beauty [is] a cannon shot. Drama by the boatload, danger around every corner, and heart-wrenching emotion await readers.”

— A Romance Review

“From the first page to the last this continuation of the Beckets of Romney Marsh saga is a well-crafted novel. Emotional intensity, simmering sexual tension, characters you care about and political intrigue—plus touches of humour and a poignant love story—all come together in this hugely entertaining keeper.”

— Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Her characters shine as she brings in fascinating details of the era, engaging plot twists and plenty of sensuality.”

— Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Brimming with historical details and characters ranging from royalty to spies, greedy servants to a jealous woman, this tale is told with panache and wit.”

— Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Michaels’ ingenious sense of humour reaches new heights as she brings marvellous characters and a too-funny-for-words story to life. (…) What fun, what pleasure, what a read!”

— Romantic Times BOOKreviews

USA TODAY bestselling author Kasey Michaelsis the author of more than ninety books. She has earned three starred reviews from Publishers Weekly , and has been awarded the RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America, the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award, the Waldenbooks and BookRak awards, and several other commendations for her writing excellence in both contemporary and historical novels. There are more than eight million copies of her books in print around the world. Kasey resides in Pennsylvania with her family, where she is always at work on her next book.

by

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Missy Augustine, who keeps it all together so I can fall apart.

Thanks!

Available from Kasey Michaels and Mills & Boon

THE BUTLER DID IT IN HIS LORDSHIP’S BED

(short story in The Wedding Chase)

SHALL WE DANCE?

IMPETUOUS MISSES

MARRIAGEABLE MISSES

A RECKLESS BEAUTY

LORDS OF NOTORIETY

LORDS OF SCANDAL

HOW TO TEMPT A DUKE

and in the Beckets of Romney Marsh series

A GENTLEMAN BY ANY OTHER NAME

THE DANGEROUS DEBUTANTE

BEWARE OF VIRTUOUS WOMEN

A MOST UNSUITABLE GROOM

THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL

BECKET’S LAST STAND

HORSE AND RIDER EMERGED from the trees in an explosion of unleashed energy that sent a pair of long-eared hares fighting to be the first to scoot headfirst into their burrow. Birds fled the treetops, their dark underbodies shadowed against the high, uncharacteristically bright blue sky.

Shod hooves encountered the soft, just-turned earth of the field. The mare momentarily scrambled for footing, and then gathered itself for the gallop.

The rider, head low over the mare’s neck, held the reins in both hands, elbows up and out, almost standing in the stirrups, knees tight to the horse’s flanks, rump slightly above the saddle, in the way of jockeys once seen racing at a country fair.

Horse and rider both knew the route. The hedgerow first, followed by the low gate at the end of the second field. The stone wall, wide if not that high, which fronted a good three-foot drop-off and rather boggy landing.

Another long, liberating gallop would follow, and then the five-bar gate. That was the test, the five-bar gate. The undeniable challenge. The ultimate triumph once it was behind them.

The mare was strong, and fleet of foot, but it was the rider who held the control. Control was important; it might be everything. Control of your surroundings. Control over your own mind, heart and destiny.

And the freedom that control gave you.

The minor obstacles cleared, the five-bar gate was now visible in the distance. It was not a jump for the faint-hearted or those of only mediocre talent. Skill and confidence were needed. And perhaps a measure of luck.

But the rider had always been lucky.

The mare’s head bobbed and stretched as its strides lengthened, the muscles in its neck straining, its hot breath sending puffs of white vapor into the cool morning air.

The rider melted into the mare, their movements meshing, feeling the precise snap of the mare’s knees as it dug in one last time and then launched itself into the air.

Horse and rider became one in the jump. Soaring. Flying. Free of the earth and all its cares. The world waited below them, completely silent for one long, sweet moment in time.

And then the mare’s front hooves touched the earth once more and the thunder of its hooves, the steady thud, thud, thud , matched the heartbeat of the rider who now stood up completely in the stirrups. One gloved hand went to the soft wool toque and lifted it high into the air, waving it like a victory banner.

Masses of coal-black hair, no longer confined by the toque, tumbled free and blew about in the breeze. A full-lipped, wide mouth fashioned for smiling, for flirting, for kissing, formed to deliver hopeful dreams and crushing disappointments opened, and a delighted whoop of triumph echoed across the field.

Dark-lashed eyes the color of drenched violets sparkled and danced above a pert nose and highboned cheeks dusted with freckles that enticed, hinted of an innocence the sensual mouth denied.

The same breeze that danced in those midnight tresses caressed the high, pert breasts outlined beneath a man’s white lawn shirt that was tucked into a pair of tan breeches even a hardened libertine might call licentious.

Eighteen-year-old Lady Nicole Daughtry knew many would call her beautiful. And different. She reveled in the facts that she was young and brave, heart-whole and achingly alive. Marvelously, gloriously free.

Today was for celebrating that youth, that joy, that freedom. Tomorrow was for saying goodbye to one world and hello to another as she set out on her first London Season, approaching it just as she would a five-barred fence.