Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom

Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom By Vanessa Kelly


AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE


“You must learn to trust me, my love,” he said.

“That is the second time you have used that ridiculous endearment and I do not appreciate it in the least, sir. Which brings us back to our original point—what is to be done about your outrageous assertion that we are married?”

“What else did you expect me to do? Deny that you were my mistress and proclaim the sanctity of your spinster state to the world at large?”

“That’s exactly what you should have done.”

“Justine, it wouldn’t have mattered what we denied. The very fact that you set foot in my house, much less The Golden Tie, doomed you from the minute you were identified. The only rational thing to be done was to proclaim you my wife.”

“But then what?” she managed. “We cannot possibly keep up with such a charade for long.”

“I’m afraid that for both our sakes, the charade must soon become a reality.”

“You cannot be serious.”

Justine stared into his raven-black eyes, seeing not a shred of humor or irony. To her astonishment, a gleam of amusement sparked to life in his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he said in a musing tone. “Any woman who, by her own admission, is capable of shooting a man in cold blood is likely the perfect wife for me . . .”






ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


As always, my first debt of gratitude is to my husband, who is both a wonderful spouse and a great writing partner. Grateful thanks to my critique partner, Debbie Mason, and to my sister writers at Rock*It Reads and The Jaunty Quills. A special mention must go to Katharine Ashe and Shana Galen, two lovely and gracious ladies who kindly agreed to read my books.


At Kensington, I’m eternally grateful to Vida Engstrand, to the folks in publicity and marketing, and to Ross Plotkin. Special thanks to the Kensington art department, who always give me the most phenomenal covers.


Finally, I wish to thank my agent, Evan Marshall, and my editor, John Scognamiglio, for their unflagging support. They are two of the classiest guys I know, and I’m truly grateful to have the opportunity to work with them.





CHAPTER One



London, January 1815





After seven long years, Griffin Steele was a sinner’s breath away from casting off the millstone around his neck, the one that dragged at the few shreds of decency in his dark soul.

“I trust everything is to your specifications,” said Madeline Reeves in her smoothly seductive tones. “Lizzie, Rebecca, and I went over the terms quite carefully, and I believe we’ve done a more than adequate job of addressing your concerns.” Her full-lipped smile offset any hint of criticism that her words might have conveyed.

Griffin glanced up from the document to the woman who managed his brothel and who had once graced his bed. Madeline was a statuesque beauty, dark-haired and sloe-eyed, with a languid sensuality that masked a keen business mind and a card sharp’s instincts. She was also, despite her profession, thoroughly decent and one of the few people Griffin had elected to trust in his life.

He responded to her challenge with a nod. “I know the terms seem more demanding than are justified, given our relationship. I also know you see the reason for it.” He allowed the document to settle with a whisper of fluttering parchment onto his desk. “Am I wrong?”

Madeline’s smile tilted up at one corner in wry understanding. “No, you’re not wrong. You’re never wrong, are you?”