Deborah Simmons - The Last Rogue

Cover Page

Praise 10 TH ANNIVERSARY Special thanks to our well-wishers, who have contributed their congratulations and support. “The best historicals, the best romances. Simply the best!” —Dallas Schulze “Bronwyn Williams was born and raised at Harlequin Historicals. We couldn’t have asked for a better home or a more supportive family.” —Dixie Browning and Mary Williams, w/a Bronwyn Williams “I can’t believe it’s been ten years since Private Treaty, my first historical novel, helped launch the Harlequin Historicals line. What a thrill that was! And the beat goes on…with timeless stories about men and women in love.” —Kathleen Eagle “Nothing satisfies me as much as writing or reading a Harlequin Historical novel For me, Harlequin Historicals are the ultimate escape from the problems of everyday life.” —Ruth Ryan Langan “As a writer and reader, I feel that the Harlequin Historicals line always celebrates a perfect blend of history and romance, adventure and passion, humor and sheer magic.” —Theresa Michaels “Thank you, Harlequin Historicals, for opening up a ‘window into the past’ for so many happy readers.” —Suzanne Barclay “As a one-time ‘slush pile’ foundling at Harlequin Historicals, I’ll be forever grateful for having been rescued and published as one of the first ‘March Madness’ authors. Harlequin Historicals has always been the place for special stories, ones that blend the magic of the past with the rare miracle of love for books that readers never forget.” —Miranda Jarrett “A rainy evening. A cup of hot chocolate. A stack of Harlequin Historicals. Absolute bliss! Happy 10th Anniversary and continued success.” —Cheryl Reavis “Happy birthday, Harlequin Historicals! I’m proud to have been a part of your ten years of exciting historical romance.” —Elaine Barbieri “Harlequin Historical novels are charming or disarming with dashes and clashes. These past times are fast times, the gems of romances!” —Karen Harper

Title Page The Last Rogue Deborah Simmons www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication For Jennifer Lynn, with love

Excerpt “Jane, you imp, you have read some of those horrid novels, after all!” Raleigh accused with a wicked grin. Jane found herself standing motionless as he approached her with more purpose than she had ever seen before. For a moment, she simply stared at him warily, then, recovering slightly, she backed away, only to find herself up against one of the stacks of old London Times that reached well above her head. He descended on her with the look of a wolf, his eyes heavy lidded, his smile at once both beguiling and dangerous. Leaning forward, he rested one hand on either side of her head, trapping her between them, and Jane felt a startling rush of excitement. She had always thought of Raleigh as a vain, useless sort, but she was coming to realize that he possessed a power that went beyond his charm. And now he looked positively lethal!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright

“The best historicals, the best romances. Simply the best!”

—Dallas Schulze

“Bronwyn Williams was born and raised at Harlequin Historicals. We couldn’t have asked for a better home or a more supportive family.”

—Dixie Browning and Mary Williams, w/a Bronwyn Williams

“I can’t believe it’s been ten years since Private Treaty, my first historical novel, helped launch the Harlequin Historicals line. What a thrill that was! And the beat goes on…with timeless stories about men and women in love.”

—Kathleen Eagle

“Nothing satisfies me as much as writing or reading a Harlequin Historical novel For me, Harlequin Historicals are the ultimate escape from the problems of everyday life.”

—Ruth Ryan Langan

“As a writer and reader, I feel that the Harlequin Historicals line always celebrates a perfect blend of history and romance, adventure and passion, humor and sheer magic.”

—Theresa Michaels

“Thank you, Harlequin Historicals, for opening up a ‘window into the past’ for so many happy readers.”

—Suzanne Barclay

“As a one-time ‘slush pile’ foundling at Harlequin Historicals, I’ll be forever grateful for having been rescued and published as one of the first ‘March Madness’ authors. Harlequin Historicals has always been the place for special stories, ones that blend the magic of the past with the rare miracle of love for books that readers never forget.”

—Miranda Jarrett

“A rainy evening. A cup of hot chocolate. A stack of Harlequin Historicals. Absolute bliss! Happy 10th Anniversary and continued success.”

—Cheryl Reavis

“Happy birthday, Harlequin Historicals! I’m proud to have been a part of your ten years of exciting historical romance.”

—Elaine Barbieri

“Harlequin Historical novels are charming or disarming with dashes and clashes. These past times are fast times, the gems of romances!”

—Karen Harper

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Jennifer Lynn, with love

Raleigh accused with a wicked grin.

Jane found herself standing motionless as he approached her with more purpose than she had ever seen before. For a moment, she simply stared at him warily, then, recovering slightly, she backed away, only to find herself up against one of the stacks of old London Times that reached well above her head.

He descended on her with the look of a wolf, his eyes heavy lidded, his smile at once both beguiling and dangerous. Leaning forward, he rested one hand on either side of her head, trapping her between them, and Jane felt a startling rush of excitement. She had always thought of Raleigh as a vain, useless sort, but she was coming to realize that he possessed a power that went beyond his charm.

And now he looked positively lethal!

“Ahhh!”

Deverell Fairfax, Viscount Raleigh, turned over, his head pounding viciously as a hideous shriek was followed by a tremendous clatter. What the devil? His servants had orders not to wake him before noon, and as he cracked one eye open he saw a flood of light that looked suspiciously like early-morning sun through bright yellow draperies.

His lashes drifted closed once more, shutting out the worst of the light, while he attempted to regain his blissful state of slumber, but the hammering in his temples continued unabated and a thundering of footsteps echoed outside his chamber. Dash it all, who is here? he thought groggily. Better yet, where was here? For as he came more awake, Raleigh became distinctly aware that his surroundings were not those of his London town house.

Turning onto his back, Raleigh blinked at the ceiling, where vaguely familiar saffron and blue silk hangings slowly came into focus. The faint scent of flowers made him wonder if he were not in a lady’s chamber. Gad, he could not recall. Putting a hand to his aching forehead, he racked his brain. He remembered receiving a summons from his father and drowning his displeasure in a bottle or two. Or three.