Architectural Graphics

223 Pages·2015·72.07 MB·English

by  Francis D. K. Ching

ALSO BY SYLVIA DAY

The Stranger I Married

Ask for It

Passion for the Game

A Passion for Him

Don’t Tempt Me

Pride and Pleasure

Seven Years to Sin

SYLVIA DAY WRITING AS LIVIA DARE
,

In the Flesh

ANTHOLOGIES

Perfect Kisses

Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Scandalous Liaisons
SYLVIA DAY
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
For my children, Jack and Shanna.
I love you.
Acknowledgments
There are many people who deserve recognition for their contributions. The following
list is just the beginning.

Many thanks to:

Lori Foster for offering the Novella Contest and choosing my entry as a finalist. I
appreciate your generosity and advice. You’re a gem.
Morgan Leigh for liking my entry enough to pass it along to Lori and for being an
all-around great gal.
Everyone who voted to make Stolen Pleasures the Reader’s Choice winner. Thank
you so much.
My agent, Evan Fogelman, who has to put up with me. Poor guy.
My mother, Tami Day, who introduced me to romance novels and is my greatest
cheerleader.
My husband, Kevin, who always believed.
Samara, for being a friend as well as my sister. I love you.
Huge hugs go out to my critique partners Annette McCleave, Jordan Summers, Sasha
White, and Celia Stuart, whose invaluable assistance and support helped me shape the
stories within this book.
A giant heaping of undying gratitude to my fabulous editor, Kate Duffy. I can’t say
enough about her. She’s been wonderful to me.
And last, but never least, to the hundreds of readers who visited my website, signed
up for my mailing list, and clamored for my stories while I was still aspiring. Your faith
in me pushed me forward. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Stolen Pleasures
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Lucien’s Gamble
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Her Mad Grace
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Author′s Note
Teaser chapter
Teaser chapter
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Copyright Page
Stolen Pleasures
Chapter One
British West Indies, February 1813

He’d stolen a bride.
Sebastian Blake gripped his knife with white-knuckled force and kept his face
impassive. If the beauty in front of him were to be believed, he’d stolen his own bride.
He watched as her chin lifted with defiance and her dark eyes met his without fear.
She was tall and slender, with blonde curls tumbling down from a once-stylish
arrangement. Her lovely watered-silk dress was torn at the shoulder, revealing a
tempting display of creamy breast. A sooty handprint marred her flesh, and unable to
help himself, Sebastian reached out and rubbed the offending mark away with gentle
strokes of his thumb. She stiffened, and lifted her bound hands to knock his away. He
met her gaze and held it.
“Tell me your name again,” he murmured, his hand tingling just from that simple
contact with her satin skin.
She licked her bottom lip, and his blood heated further. “My name is Olivia Merrick,
Countess of Merrick. My husband is Sebastian Blake, Earl of Merrick and future
Marquess of Dunsmore.”
He lifted her hands and stared at her ring finger, noting his crest etched in the simple
gold band she wore.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and turned away, striding to the nearest open
window for a deep breath of salt-tinged air. Staring out at the water, he espied the debris
from her ship bobbing in the waves. “Where is your husband, Lady Merrick?” he asked,
keeping his back to her.
Hope tinged her voice. “He awaits me in London.”
“I see.” But he didn’t, not at all. “How long have you been married, my lady?”
“I fail to see—”
“How long?” he barked.
“Nearly two weeks.”
His chest expanded on a deep breath. “I remind you that we are in the West Indies,
Lady Merrick. It is impossible that you were married only a fortnight ago. Your
husband would not be able to await you in England if that were true.”
She was silent behind him, and finally he turned to face her again. It was a mistake to
have done so. Her beauty hit him with the force of a fist in his gut.
“Would you care to explain?” he prodded, relieved he sounded so unaffected.
For the first time, her bravado left her, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “We
were married by proxy,” she confessed. “But I assure you, he will pay whatever ransom
you desire despite the unusual circumstances of our marriage.”
Sebastian moved toward her. His calloused fingers caressed the elegant curve of her
cheekbone and entwined in her hair. Her breath caught, and her lips parted in response
to his gentle touch. “I’m certain he would pay a king’s ransom for beauty such as
yours.”
Through the smoky smell that clung to her, he could detect the arousing scent of soft
woman, warm and luxurious. He reached for the blade strapped to his thigh and
withdrew it.
She flinched away.
“Easy,” he soothed. Sebastian held out his hand and waited patiently for her to step
forward again. When she did, he sliced through the rope that tied her hands together,
and sheathed his knife. He rubbed the marks on her delicate wrists.
“You are a pirate,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“You have taken my father’s ship and all of its cargo.”
“I have.”
Her head tilted backward on the slender neck, and she gazed up at him with melting
chocolate eyes. “Why, then, are you being so kind to me, if you intend to rape me?”
He caught her fingers and placed them on his signet ring. “Most would say a man
cannot rape his own wife.”
She glanced down and gasped at the heavy crest that mirrored the one on her own
band. Her eyes flew up to his. “Where did you get this? You can’t possibly . . .”
He smiled. “According to you, I am.”

Olivia stared up into intense blue eyes and felt certain her heart would burst from her
chest. Her mind faltered, stumbling over the shocking revelation that the notorious
Captain Phoenix was claiming to be her husband.
She backed away from him in a rush, and he reached to steady her when she started
to fall. A whimper escaped as his touch burned her skin. The day’s events had shaken
her, but it was the gorgeous face of the infamous pirate that made her legs feel weak.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, and his presence sucked all of the air from the
tight confines of the cabin. His black hair was unfashionably long, and the darkness of
his skin betrayed how much time he spent outdoors. He was wild, untamed—a man of
the elements.
She’d watched, fascinated, as he’d swept onto her ship and took command of it
within moments. Phoenix had executed the attack with brilliant precision—not one man
was seriously injured, and no one had been killed. Having spent most of her childhood
on her father’s ships, Olivia recognized skill when she saw it.
The way he’d used his sword and barked commands, the way loose tendrils of his
hair had blown across his face, the way his breeches had delineated every stretch of his
muscular thighs—she’d never experienced anything so thrilling. So exciting.
Until he’d touched her.
Then she’d discovered what excitement truly was.
Now she watched, mouth agape, as his long, elegant fingers went to the open collar
of his shirt and plucked at the laces. Phoenix tugged the billowing linen from his
breeches and drew it over his head.
“Good grief,” she gasped, startled by the heat that tore through her veins and flushed
her skin as his chest was revealed to her. Her breasts grew heavy, the tips aching.
Phoenix smiled, well aware of the effect he was having on her. His body moved with
arrogant grace, powerful muscles rippling beneath tautly stretched skin. Dark hair