Some Like It Wild

387 Pages·2009·1.31 MB·English

by  Teresa Medeiros

To the memory of Eric Myers. You were the rar-
est of creatures—a natural athlete and a gorgeous
geek who loved volleyball and Star Wars equally.
Nobody imitated Christ more gracefully than you,
dear friend. See you on the other side.
To Eric Medeiros—I’d always wanted a brother and
then God gave me you, which means you should be
careful what you ask for. Thanks for reading my
books and letting me write at your house!
And for my darling Michael—my husband, my
hero, and my heart. You make every day a grand
adventure.
Contents
Chapter 1
I need a man,” Pamela Darby proclaimed with the same… 1
Chapter 2
In his twenty-nine years of life, Connor Kincaid had been… 18
Chapter 3
The coachman squeaked in shock as the pistol appeared in… 30
Chapter 4
Neither,” Connor replied, shaking the length of rope from his… 47
Chapter 5
As Connor sprang to his feet, Pamela took a step… 63
Chapter 6
Now that the dam was broken, the words came pouring… 68
Chapter 7
The future Duke of Warrick leaned back in his chair,… 76
Chapter 8
Get the women to the vault!” Connor snapped, shoving both… 94
Chapter 9
I’m sorry, miss, but the duke refuses to receive you”… 106
Chapter 10
The duke jerked upright in his chair, feverish spots of… 121
Chapter 11
That miserable scoundrel! That wretched blackguard!
That—that—” Pamela struggled to… 127
Chapter 12
Pamela winced in alarm as Connor rose to his full… 145
Chapter 13
Pamela opened her mouth but Connor’s hand was there, warm… 152
Chapter 14
When Connor awoke the next morning, it hardly improved the… 161
Chapter 15
Dread quickened in Pamela’s heart as Crispin came sauntering
across… 172
Chapter 16
Pamela’s voice came out of the darkness, strained and
breathless. 191
Chapter 17
What’s wrong with what you’re wearing right now?”
Connor asked… 209
Chapter 18
Pamela felt as if she were floating down the grand… 223
Chapter 19
Pamela’s heart sank like a stone in her breast. Connor… 238
Chapter 20
Connor groaned, accepting her unspoken invitation to ravish
her mouth… 247
Chapter 21
Although Crispin would have thought it impossible, the young
maidservant… 264
Chapter 22
Pamela rested the back of her head against Connor’s shoulder,… 270
Chapter 23
Pamela’s breath quickened as the mirror revealed a
man standing… 283
Chapter 24
The Duke of Warrick’s ball quickly became the most coveted… 288
Chapter 25
It appears that someone is trying to upstage you,” Connor… 299
Chapter 26
The duke sat behind the immense desk in his study… 313
Chapter 27
If Connor were dressed all in black and gripping a… 326
Chapter 28
When Crispin opened his eyes to find Sophie hovering over… 340
Chapter 29
Catriona Wescott gazed down at the letter in her hand… 352
Chapter 30
For an agonizing moment Connor thought his heart was going… 359
Epilogue
As Pamela carried a piping hot tray of shortbread onto… 370
Acknowledgments 375
About the Author
Other Books by Teresa Medeiros
Cover
Copyright
About the Publisher

Chapter 1
The Scottish Highlands
1814
I need a man,” Pamela Darby proclaimed with
the same matter-of-fact conviction she would
have used to announce “I need a scrap of lace to
mend my hem” or “I need a fresh turnip for tonight’s
stew.”
From the coach seat opposite her, her half-sister
Sophie glanced up from studying her worn copy of
La Belle Assemblée. The periodical was two seasons
out of date, but that didn’t stop Sophie from sigh-
ing over its colorful fashion plates or poring over its
recommendations for the rouge most likely to grace
a young lady’s cheek with a flattering hue.
“What I need—what we need,” Pamela amended,
“is not just any man, but some strapping Scots lad
2 Teresa Medeiros
with more brawn than brains.” She deepened her
voice, faking a burr that would have done Bonnie
Prince Charlie proud. “A lad easily led by two
canny lasses with more wits than he.”
“And I’m guessing those lasses would be us?”
Sophie ventured, cocking a knowing eyebrow. She
winced and wiggled on the battered cushions as
the coach shuddered and began to grind its way
down another rocky trail that insulted their intel-
ligence by calling itself a road. “Just how do you
propose we find this handsome dullard? Should we
ask the coachman to stop at the next village and
post a broadsheet?”
Trusting that her sister would play along with her
silly scheme, if only to pass the long hours on the
road, Pamela bit her bottom lip. “Hmmm ... that’s
not a bad idea. I hadn’t considered a broadsheet.
How about one that reads, ‘WANTED: Thick-
Witted, Thick-Necked Scotsman to Masquerade
as Duke’s Long Lost Heir.’ Perhaps we could nail
one up in the market square of each village we pass
through.”
“Just like that one we saw in the last village,
warning us that there’s a dangerous highwayman
with a price on his head terrorizing these very
roads—robbing travelers and ravishing innocent
women?”
Sophie’s mocking words brought Pamela’s flight
of fancy crashing down on the jagged rocks of real-
ity. She remembered that broadsheet only too well.
A crude sketch had accompanied it, depicting a
masked man with a rugged jaw, a pistol in his hand