Historical Romance

Dancing at Midnight (Blydon, Book 2) by Julia Quinn

By Julia Quinn

Girl Arabella Blydon has attractiveness and a mind, and she's uninterested in males who can see just one with no the other.When a suitor tells Arabella he's prepared to miss her appalling bluestocking trends because of her appears to be like and fortune, she makes a decision to take a holiday from the wedding Mart. in the course of a longer remain within the kingdom, she by no means expects to satisfy Lord John Blackwood, a wounded conflict hero who intrigues her like no different man.Lord John has lived during the worst horros of war...but not anything might have been as terrifying to his tormented center as woman Arabella. She is intoxicating, infuriating...and she makes him are looking to stay back. abruptly he's writing undesirable poetry and hiking timber within the pitch-dark night...just so he can dance together with her because the clock moves hour of darkness. or even although he understands he can by no means be this kind of guy she merits, he can't support short of her. but if the cruel gentle of day replaces the magic of hour of darkness, can this tormented soul discover ways to love again?

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Additional info for Dancing at Midnight (Blydon, Book 2)

Sample text

Surely there were no wolves on this island? The moorland was too bleak. There was not a tree or any other form of cover, save the castle. But wolf it was. Sleek, huge, beautiful. And savage. She could sense it, in the bunching of its muscles under that luxurious fur. Nature at its most perfect, and its most lethal. And its most enthralling. Freya tried to haul herself up higher onto the window the better to see. Her calves ached with the effort. Being on the top floor of the keep, the window was not barred.

Whatever his reasons, whatever it was she had felt, she should be pleased she had stopped things before it was too late. Holding this thought to her like a comfort blanket, Freya eventually dozed off. Eoin did not sleep, but occupied himself the long night with keeping the fire going, fighting the desire to warm Freya himself by holding her, just holding her in his arms while she slept. This protective urge was not alien to him. As pack leader he was fiercely defensive of his people, but Freya was not of Clan Wolf.

Definitely not one particular man. ” It was the truth, but it was also a lie. Even though he knew she must, he didn’t want her to go just yet. He was not prevaricating, it was simply that circumstances dictated he could not immediately do as he ought. So Eoin had reasoned as he watched dawn break over the horizon. Freya looked up from her study of the breakfast fare. The long table was piled high with delicious foods, exotic fruits and delicately smoked fish that she had never seen before, creamy cheeses, honey that tasted like nectar, all served on polished silver plate.

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