Private Places [antikvár]

ONEAn Entertainment at CardsSurrey, 1835Michael Beaulieu, the Duke of Bretherton, was contemplating the hideous pattern on his teacup when he heard Amelia Lockwood's voice. It was a low, sultry voice that ten years ago could make his cock hard by whispering his name. Doubly so when accompanied by Amelia's red-lipped smile and a lazy look in her deep blue eyes.Michael lifted his gaze to see Amelia on the other side of the ostentatious drawing room speaking to his host, the idiotic Preston Lockwood. Amelia, the woman he'd driven away ten long years ago with his arrogance and stupid high-handedness, the woman who vowed she hated him and never wanted to see him again. He'd quit England right after that and hadn't returned for a decade.Now he learned a disturbing facther voice could still make him hard.Amelia did not notice Michael. He had chosen a seat partially concealed by a carved wooden screen, some monstrosity a curio seller had passed off to Lockwood as Oriental. Likely it had been