Free Read Novels Online Home

Mesmerized by Candace Camp (14)

Chapter Fourteen

“WHAT?” LADY ST. LEGERS hand flew to her throat, and she paled. “What do you mean?”

“She has vanished!” Irina cried.

“Vanished?” Stephen stood up, going over to the young woman. “Here. Sit down. Calm yourself, and tell us what happened.”

“I can’t sit down!” Irina cried. “Don’t you understand? Something has happened to her! She isn’t here!”

“Are you sure?” Lady St. Leger asked. “You know, it is a large house.”

“I looked in her room. She was not there when I went down to breakfast, and I was a little surprised, for we usually went together. I decided she must already be in the dining room, but when I got there, she was not. No one was there. I thought I must simply have missed her somehow, so after I ate, I came in here, but there was no one, so I went back upstairs and looked in her room again. It was still empty. I thought she might have gone to my bedchamber, but she was not there, either. I looked into Mr. Babington’s room, but the maid said she had not been in this morning. I waited in her room, thinking she would return, but she never did. So just now I returned to the dining room to ask the footman if Mama had said where she was going when she left breakfast. He said that she had not been in all morning!”

Madame Valenskaya’s absence at any meal was indeed odd, Olivia thought, but she did not say so. She crossed to Irina, saying in a calming voice, “I am sure Madame Valenskaya is all right. Perhaps she is in some other room, or she’s taken a walk in the garden.”

“Before she ate breakfast?” Irina shot her a disbelieving look. “That is not like Mama at all.”

“Oh, dear!” Lady St. Leger clasped her hands together, her brow knitting. “Surely nothing can have happened to her! There can’t have been another calamity!”

“No doubt she is perfectly fine, my lady,” Olivia reassured her.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Rafe said to Irina, “but are you sure she didn’t take off? She looked pretty green last night after that séance.”

“Mama would never leave without me!” Irina cried. “Certainly not without at least telling me.”

“Of course not,” Lady St. Leger agreed. “I am so afraid—I mean, with what happened to Mr. Babington, I fear that something has happened to her. I don’t understand why the séances have turned so—they are so different than they were at first.”

“Don’t worry,” Stephen told her. “We will search for her. Mother, you stay here, in case Madame Valenskaya should happen to seek you out. Rafe?”

It took only a look toward the man, and Rafe was by his side. “Where shall we start?”

“Why don’t you and Irina go through this side of the ground floor? The ballrooms, the conservatory, both dining rooms. Olivia and I will take the west side. I shall send a message to the stables, as well, and set a couple of footmen to searching the gardens.”

Rafe nodded and steered Irina out the door. St. Leger yanked at the bellpull, and when a footman appeared, gave him instructions to search the kitchens, the gardens and the stables for the missing medium. Then he and Olivia started down the hall. Their first stop was the library, empty of people except for Olivia’s great-uncle Bellard. When he heard of their quest, he was quick to join them. In the music room, they found Belinda, who was quite happy to leave her piano practice and help them search, as well. The small salon, near the rear of the house, and the smoking room, proved empty.

They returned to the base of the stairs as Rafe and Irina came in from the other side. In response to Stephen’s raised eyebrows, Rafe shook his head.

“We have been all through this side. You know, Steve, my lad, you have far too many rooms in this house,” Rafe told him. “There is no sign of her. I talked to the footman in the dining room again, and the fellow swore up and down that she hadn’t been in this morning.”

“Something has happened to her,” Irina insisted unhappily. “It must have.”

Stephen started up the stairs, with the rest of them following. Stephen sent Rafe and Irina down one side of the corridor, and Great-uncle Bellard and Belinda down the other. He took Olivia’s arm and headed to the end of the hallway where the medium’s room lay. They walked into Madame Valenskaya’s room, which was indeed empty of her person. However, the woman’s clothes were still there, many of them flung messily across the chair and dresser.

“At least she hasn’t packed a bag and taken off,” Stephen said. “That was my first thought when Miss Valenskaya said she was gone.”

“No, it doesn’t look like it. Although she did seem very shaken last night.”

They went next into Irina’s room, finding it empty, as well, and after that into Mr. Babington’s, thinking that perhaps she had come in to check on her friend. There was no one there except Babington, lying still and silent in his bed, his eyes closed. The maid who had been assigned to sit with him looked up and started to rise from her chair at their entrance, but Stephen waved her back down.

“How is he doing?” Stephen asked. He, like Olivia, had been in to check on Babington every day since his accident, but there had been no change in him.

There still was not. The maid shook her head, saying, “He’s the same as ever, my lord. The doctor should be here before long, if you want to speak to him.”

Stephen nodded, and he and Olivia left the room. They looked down the hallway, where the others were advancing toward them room by room, obviously finding them empty.

“What about the unused rooms?” Olivia asked, gesturing toward the smaller corridor that crossed the one in which they stood.

Around the corner, along the other hallway, lay several guest rooms, presently not in use. Stephen shrugged. “I suppose we must, to be thorough, and then we’ll start on the upper floors. I am beginning to think, though, that she might have wandered into the unused wing of the house and has gotten lost.”

“Yes, or perhaps it is part of some elaborate trick.”

Stephen glanced at her, a sardonic smile on his lips. “Why, Lady Olivia, do I detect a note of cynicism in your voice?”

“A veritable symphony, where Madame Valenskaya and her daughter are concerned.” Olivia replied.

His eyes were warm as they rested on her face. “I have a great desire to kiss you right now, my little cynic.”

Olivia’s face warmed under his regard, and she glanced away, murmuring, “You make me forget what we are supposed to be doing.”

“Sorry,” he replied in a voice that held little regret as he took her arm and started around the corner.

They looked into the nearest room, then the one across the hall from it. The other members of their search party were just coming around the corner to join them when Stephen opened the door of the chamber containing the secret room.

The door into the secret room stood open.

Stephen stepped inside, Olivia coming in after him, then turned and stuck his head out the door. “Rafe. Keep the others here.”

Rafe nodded as Stephen closed the door and turned. Outside they could hear the others’ voices rising in query and Rafe’s firm reply.

Stephen and Olivia looked at each other, then at the opening in the wall. The small room beyond was utterly silent. Stephen started quietly for the door, Olivia right behind him. There was a sick feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

He stepped inside the room, and despite her dislike of the place, Olivia moved in after him, then drew in a sharp breath as she saw what lay inside.

The gold casket was not on its small table, but on the floor on its side, treasures spilling out of it, only inches from the outstretched hand of the still body beside it. The woman who lay there was obviously dead, but it was not the stocky form of Madame Valenskaya that lay on the floor, face contorted in the rictus of death.

It was the slender body of Pamela St. Leger.

* * *

“GOOD GOD.” FOR A long moment, Stephen simply stared at Pamela, not moving.

Then he crossed the few steps to her body and knelt down beside it. He reached over and curled his fingers around Pamela’s wrist, automatically searching for a pulse, although the coldness of her skin made it clear there would be none.

“She is dead,” he said quietly.

“Stephen...” Olivia went to him, sympathy overcoming the rising nausea in her stomach. This woman, so beautiful in life, now so pitifully dead, had been a woman he had loved madly. However much Pamela had hurt him, she knew regret and pain must be eating at him now.

“I am so sorry,” she told him, laying her hand on his shoulder.

“I never would have dreamed...” he said in a low voice.

Olivia forced herself to look down at the body. Her stomach lurched, but fortunately it did not revolt. Pamela’s face was contorted; it was no great stretch of imagination to say it was a mask of terror. She saw, though it scarcely registered, that there was no blood upon her anywhere, nor any blood upon the floor.

She shivered. The room was unbearably cold, and its heavy atmosphere lay on her like a weight.

Stephen stood up and slipped his arm around her shoulders, and they walked from the room. Olivia put her arm around his waist, and they stood that way for a moment outside the secret room.

“Do you think—how did she die?” Olivia asked.

“I’ve no idea. There are no marks upon her. No blood. No sign that she was strangled. But her face!”

“I know. She looked...”

“As if she were terrified. Poor greedy fool.”

“Do you think that Madame Valenskaya did that to her?”

Stephen sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, shoving his hands into his hair. “Since she is missing, she would seem to be the likely candidate.”

“But if Madame Valenskaya killed her for the money, why wouldn’t she have taken it?” Olivia wondered. “And why was Pamela here? Was she—” Olivia paused, trying to think of a delicate way to phrase her questions.

“Stealing the Martyrs’ treasure?” Stephen suggested bluntly. “I can think of no other reason for her to be there, with the casket lying beside her. She has complained more than once that her widow’s jointure was scarcely enough to live on. Roderick left her well provided for, but for a woman like Pamela, that was not enough. She was bitter that because she had not borne an heir, she no longer had any hold on the estate. She had proved often enough that she was mercenary, yet still it makes my mind reel to think she would stoop to this.”

“Perhaps it was Madame Valenskaya who was stealing it. Perhaps Pamela just happened upon her and—”

Stephen cast her a quizzical look. “There is no need to try to whiten her misdeeds. I know the sort of woman Pamela was better than anyone.”

“But how did she get into the room to get it? Either of them?”

“Perhaps Roderick told Pamela. He was besotted enough to have done anything she wanted, at least when they were first married. I don’t know if he came to realize her true nature before his death.”

“But if that were true, she could have taken it any time. Why choose now, with a houseful of people about?”

“She might have feared I would relent and give it to Madame Valenskaya’s ‘restless spirits.’ Or perhaps she just finally realized that she had no hope of seducing me into marrying her and regaining the money and estate she had lost by Roderick’s death.”

“Oh.” Olivia could think of nothing to say to that. She could not deny a spurt of elation at the knowledge that Stephen had not been tempted by Pamela, but it shamed her, too, that she could be thinking of such a thing when the woman lay dead only a few yards away from her.

Stephen clenched his jaw, then stood up, his face determined. “I think it’s time we got a few answers.”

He opened the door and beckoned for Rafe to come inside. “Thank God you are here,” he told him. “I’m going to need you.”

“What is it? The Valenskaya woman?”

“No. Pamela. And she is dead.”

“What?” Rafe stared at him blankly, and Stephen led him to the secret room. He stared for a moment, then turned back to Stephen. “What are you going to do?”

“Send for the constable, for one thing. The doctor will be here soon to look in on Mr. Babington, anyway. He is the coroner, too, so he can examine her. In the meantime, I intend to talk to Miss Valenskaya. I need you to stay here and guard the door, if you will.”

“I’ll make sure no one gets in,” Rafe assured him.

The three of them went back into the hall, Rafe closing the door after himself and positioning himself squarely across it. Irina moved forward tensely.

“What is it? Have you found my mother?”

“I need to talk to you,” Stephen said, avoiding her question. He glanced at his sister and Olivia’s great-uncle, who was also standing there. “Rafe will explain to you. Come, Miss Valenskaya.”

Stephen took her by the arm and almost forcibly led her away, taking her down the stairs and to the drawing room where his mother sat. Irina peppered him with questions as they went, which he did not answer. Irina grew more agitated by the moment, and Olivia felt a little sorry for her. It seemed cruel not to tell her that he had not found her mother dead, at least, but she felt sure that Stephen wanted to keep the woman’s nerves on edge in the hopes that she would be more likely to break down and tell them the truth.

By the time he ushered Irina into the formal drawing room, Irina’s fingers were dug into her skirt, and she was fairly shrieking, “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“Your mother was not there, Miss Valenskaya.”

“Then what—”

“Stephen, what on earth is going on?” Lady St. Leger asked, rising from her seat.

He looked at her, and his face softened for a moment, “Mother, I—I am sorry to upset you, but I can no longer stand by and allow you to continue this nonsense. Someone is dead now, and—”

“Dead!” Lady St. Leger stared at him, her face paling, and Olivia moved quickly to her side. “You can’t—who? Madame Valenskaya?”

“No, it was not Madame Valenskaya.” He looked at Irina as he said, “It is Pamela.”

Olivia quickly took Lady St. Leger’s arm as she let out a gasp and swayed. Olivia tugged her down into the chair she had just recently vacated.

“But how—what happened to her?” Lady St. Leger asked faintly.

“I’m not sure. There wasn’t a mark on her. But I think it is safe to say that someone killed her.”

Stephen turned to Irina, his face implacable. She stared back at him, openmouthed, unable to move.

“I have said nothing about the absurd show you and your mother have been putting on—” he began.

“We have not—”

“Don’t bother!” Stephen snapped. “I haven’t time or patience for your games anymore. Pamela is dead now, and I will find out what happened. How did you come to latch on to my mother as the victim of your schemes?”

“I—I—” Irina opened and closed her mouth several times, looking at Stephen like a rabbit found in the open.

“Mother?” He swung around to Lady St. Leger. “How did you first meet Madame Valenskaya?”

Tears glittered in her eyes. “Stephen, how can you talk about such things at a time like this? Pamela is dead!”

Olivia took her ladyship’s hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. “I know it seems very hard, my lady, but Stephen is only trying to find out who hurt Pamela and why. He must.”

“But what does it have to do with Madame Valenskaya?”

“Surely you can see that it has everything to do with her,” Stephen told her. “Pamela was found with that treasure your medium kept harping about. I don’t think it was coincidence. Who introduced you to Madame Valenskaya?”

Tears flowed down Lady St. Leger’s cheeks, and she sniffled, wiping at them with her handkerchief. “I met her at Lady Entwhistle’s. It was just a small dinner party.”

“Why did this Entwhistle woman invite you?”

“I—I don’t understand. She just sent me an invitation. I was a little surprised. I only know her slightly. I wasn’t inclined to go.”

“Why did you, then?”

“Pamela was terribly bored. And she persuaded me that it would do us both good to get out, and since it was such a small party, it would be perfectly all right, even though it had not been an entire year. So we went. Madame Valenskaya was there, and she was persuaded to hold a séance. It was so illuminating. I had never realized it was possible to speak to someone one had lost. She spoke straight to me. She said that I had lost someone dear to me. And the raps sounded out Roddy’s name.”

“Pamela.” Stephen’s jaw tightened. “That scarcely sounds like Pamela, to be interested in something like that.”

“Yes, I was a little surprised, too, I confess,” Lady St. Leger said. “But I think it was more that Pamela wanted to get out, you see.” She sighed waterily. “Poor girl. She was overbalanced by Roderick’s death. I had never thought she cared overmuch for him, frankly. She was a cold sort of woman. I shouldn’t say that about the dead, I know, but it is the truth. But after he died, she cried and cried for days.”

“I suspect it was more losing the status and fortune of being Roderick’s wife than losing Roderick himself,” Stephen told her bluntly.

“Stephen! What a thing to say!” Lady St. Leger cried.

“It is the truth, and we both know it. But I have no intention of letting whoever killed her get away with it. Whatever her faults, Pamela did not deserve to die.” He swung back to Irina, barking, “Was Pamela in on your scheme? Did she help you lure Lady St. Leger into your trap?”

Irina shrank back from him. “No! I—”

“Stephen! What are you saying?” Lady St. Leger cried.

“I think Miss Valenskaya knows,” Stephen said grimly. “Did you know Pamela before you met my mother?”

“Lady Pamela!” Irina squeaked out, her hands writhing in her skirts. “How could I?”

“I don’t know how! That is what I’m trying to find out. Why was Pamela killed, clutching the Martyrs’ treasure? Was she stealing it? Or was your mother? Or you? Which one of you killed her?”

“Stephen!” Lady St. Leger exclaimed, shocked. “You cannot mean—”

“I can. I do. Miss Valenskaya, I don’t know where your mother went, but it seems obvious that she disappeared because she knew Pamela was dead. The likely reason is that she herself killed her.”

“No!” Irina took an involuntary step backward. “Mother would never—” She licked her lips nervously and cast an imploring look at Lady St. Leger. “Please, my lady, tell him...”

“Enough!” Stephen roared. “I am done with these charades. I will turn you over to the constable when he gets here—and your mother, too, whenever we find her. Perhaps a night in gaol will help you to realize—”

“All right!” Irina cried, trembling all over. “I will tell you! I never hurt Lady Pamela! I barely even spoke to her!” She brought her hands up to her face. “I never—she talked to my mother. I don’t know how they met, but she came to us. She was angry about how little money she had. She said that the St. Legers had cheated her, that after all she had done, she had been left penniless.”

“Penniless!” Lady St. Leger looked indignant. “Why, Roderick left her a very generous amount of money, everything that was not entailed. He could have done no more!”

“She said she was being punished because she had not borne any children. And she kept on about this box.”

“The Martyrs’ treasure?”

Irina nodded. “Mother was content with doing the usual sort of thing, the rappings and harps hanging in the air and all that, getting gifts from Lady St. Leger. She was quite happy to be invited to stay here and enjoy the earl’s generosity, of course. But Pamela wanted that treasure. She could talk of nothing else—how her husband had kept it from her, how he had refused to let her have any of the jewelry. She said he had kept it hidden from her and wouldn’t even tell her how to get into the place where he kept it. She came up with this scheme to pry the box away from you. She was sure that even if Stephen didn’t want to give it to us, he would eventually do it because he wouldn’t want Lady St. Leger to be unhappy. She said that even if you would not give the box up, with all the talk about the jewels, you would be bound to at least go there to look at them. She had never been able to catch the first Lord St. Leger going to where they were stored and taking them out. She thought she could keep an eye on you and—”

“And catch me opening the secret room!” Stephen exclaimed, and his eyes flew to Olivia. “That must be what she did. The day that you and I went in there, she must have been watching, and we didn’t notice.”

“I should have known she was up to something!” Irina exclaimed, bitterness tingeing her voice. “There was this smug look to her the last few days. She must have found it and didn’t even tell us. She was going to take it all for herself.”

“Until someone stopped her,” Olivia said quietly.

Irina looked alarmed. “It wasn’t me, my lady! I never knew she’d found the box, let alone that she was planning to steal it.”

“I suppose not,” Stephen agreed. “I rather think it was your mother.”

“Mama? No!” Irina wrung her hands together. “You don’t understand. It couldn’t have been. Mother would never—” She stopped, looking around her uncertainly. Then she straightened, lifting her chin, her hands clenching into fists at her side. “I don’t believe you!” she cried defiantly. “Mama has not killed anyone. Something terrible has happened to her, I just know it!”

She burst into tears after that, and, covering her face with her hands, she ran from the room.

Stephen watched her go, then turned toward Lady St. Leger. “Mother, I am so sorry.”

Lady St. Leger’s eyes swam with tears. “I have been a fool, haven’t I?”

“No, not a fool,” Olivia assured her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Many people have been deceived by people such as Madame Valenskaya and her daughter.”

“I thought Roddy was talking to me.” The older woman’s mouth trembled. “I wanted it so much, I made myself believe it.” She looked up at her son. “You tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t listen. Both of you did. And now Pamela’s dead, and all because I brought those people here.”

“It is not your fault that Pamela died,” Stephen said firmly. “Pamela died through her own greed. I don’t know who killed her, but I am sure that it stemmed from the fact that she was stealing the Martyrs’ treasure.”

Lady St. Leger sighed. “Nevertheless, I cannot help but wish that I had never invited Madame Valenskaya here.” She rose slowly. “I think I will go to my room now.”

“Let me help you,” Olivia offered, walking with her toward the door.

Lady St. Leger smiled at her. “Thank you, my dear. You are very sweet. It is no wonder that Stephen is head over heels about you. We must go see to Belinda. No doubt she will be quite distressed.”

She curled her hand around the crook of Olivia’s arm and walked from the room, her pace slow but her head held high.

* * *

IRINA GAINED THE sanctuary of her room and closed the door after her, turning the key in the door. She relaxed, and her face changed, losing its distress and turning cooler, harder. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her hands and began to pace the room.

“Where the devil are you, Mother?” she muttered to herself.

It had been a shock when Lord St. Leger told her that Lady Pamela was dead, but she was certain that her mother had not killed the woman. She had, she thought, managed to convey her own loyalty to her mother yet evidence that little touch of doubt at the same time. She needed, after all, someone else to take the blame if St. Leger and his constable should decide that it was Irina herself who had taken Pamela’s life. Irina didn’t know how Pamela had died, but she thought that it served her right for trying to steal the treasure right out from under their eyes.

Imagine! It wasn’t hers, anyway. Like everything else here, it belonged to him.

Irina had never been very concerned about her mother’s whereabouts. She had felt sure that the old woman, scared as a rabbit after the séance last night, had simply taken off, hoping to hide her departure for a few hours by leaving her things behind. It had been all Irina could do to hold her here the past few days, anyway. Ever since Babington had fallen into that seizure, she had been terrified.

Irina had put on the act of confusion and distress about her mother’s disappearance simply because the others would have found it most bizarre if she had not, and also to buy herself some time. She needed to remain longer at Blackhope, and St. Leger would scarcely have wanted her to if she told him that Madame Valenskaya had simply fled from sheer terror.

But now, of course, with Pamela’s death, everything had changed. She had had to reveal their duplicity to St. Leger, and of course he would not allow her to remain now. Even Lady St. Leger would not want her in the house. Right to the end, Pamela had proved to be a thorn in Irina’s side.

Pamela had only been after money, of course, as had her mother, but Irina knew herself to be different. She had a larger purpose, and she must stay to see it out.

The problem, of course, was how to do it. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing for guidance. He was here, yet she could not speak to him, ask him what to do.

She brought out her cards and began to shuffle them, then laid them out, hoping for answers. They were difficult to read today, as sometimes happened. There was his card, of course, the Magician, and the Tower, as well, signifying destruction. There would be, she was certain, the result he was hoping for, but what she wanted was answers to what she should do, and the cards were hazy on that topic.

Outside in the corridor, she heard now and then the sounds of people moving and talking. The constable would have come, no doubt, and she had little desire to meet him. The best thing she could do was to stay here, out of sight. The less St. Leger or any of the others thought about her, the better.

Hours passed, and she moved restlessly about the room. It had grown quite silent in the hall. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she opened the door and looked into the hallway. There was no one there. She was tempted to slip down to the room where Pamela’s body had been found. It had been there that the golden casket had been kept. Perhaps there...

But, no, she knew it would be futile. St. Leger would doubtless have placed someone there to guard the door. It was even possible that the constable or doctor was still there. Instead, she walked across the hall to Babington’s room.

One of the maids sat beside his bed, working on some mending, and she looked up at her entrance.

Irina smiled at the woman. “I will sit with Mr. Babington for a while. You may go. I will call you when I need you again.”

“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” The maid got up, putting her mending back into the bag by her chair. “Isn’t it terrible about Lady St. Leger?”

“Mmm. Dreadful.”

The girl gave a dramatic shudder, then bobbed a curtsy and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Irina went to stand beside the bed, looking down at the still form of Howard Babington. Her lip curled in contempt. What a puny, incompetent nothing the man was! It irked her to think of all the time and effort she had wasted seducing him.

She laid her hands flat on his chest, saying, “You were too weak a vessel, alas. There was not enough strength in you to house my dark lover, was there? I should have chosen a better man. You were unworthy of such a powerful presence. But how am I to get him back now?”

She let her head fall back, her eyes closing, as she said, “Come to me now, my love. My dark prince. Fill this unworthy body again and let me know you.”

She began to chant, ancient, secret words falling from her lips. The air around her grew cold, and the sound of a great wind filled the room, though nothing stirred.

Irina stiffened, stretching up on her tiptoes, then jerked violently and fell hard onto her knees. She knelt for a long moment, recovering herself. Slowly she rose and gazed about the room. Her face was different from before, her eyes cold and hard as stones.

Her voice, when she spoke, came out a low, rusty growl. “I will have what is mine.”

She turned and walked back to her room, going to a drawer in her dresser. She shoved aside the lacy underthings, going to the leather scabbard that lay beneath. She slid out a knife from the scabbard, and it gleamed. A smile as cold as death lifted her lips.

“I will have what is mine,” she repeated, and put the knife back in its scabbard, shoving it up the sleeve of her dress.

Then she turned and walked out the door.

Search

Search

Friend:

Popular Free Online Books

Read books online free novels

Hot Authors

Sam Crescent, Zoe Chant, Flora Ferrari, Mia Madison, Lexy Timms, Alexa Riley, Claire Adams, Leslie North, Sophie Stern, Elizabeth Lennox, Amy Brent, Frankie Love, C.M. Steele, Jordan Silver, Bella Forrest, Madison Faye, Jenika Snow, Michelle Love, Dale Mayer, Mia Ford, Kathi S. Barton, Delilah Devlin, Sloane Meyers, Penny Wylder, Piper Davenport,

Random Novels

Marquesses at the Masquerade by Emily Greenwood, Susanna Ives, Grace Burrowes

Blackest Night (Shades of Death Book 3) by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

Falling Through Time: Mists of Fate - Book Four by Nancy Scanlon

The Laird's Yuletide Bride (Highland Bodyguards, Book 9.5) by Emma Prince

Break the Ice by Piper Rayne

The Billionaire's Last Chance (The Beaumont Brothers Book 3) by Leslie North

The Last Boyfriend by Nora Roberts

Take It (The Keswick Chronicles Book 2) by Victoria Kinnaird

Beautiful Baby (Twisted Fate Series) by Emery Jacobs

Summer in Manhattan by Katherine Garbera

Duel Citizenship (The Department of Homeworld Security Book 7) by Cassandra Chandler

ASTON (Rogue Billionaires, Book Three) by Olivia Chase

Defender by Diana Palmer

Deception: A Family Justice Novel by Halliday, Suzanne, Sims, Jenny

Royal Master (Reigning Love Book 1) by Emilia Beaumont

ACCIDENTAL TRYST by Natasha Boyd

Survive the Night by Katie Ruggle

Lord Seabolt (Four Families Book 2) by Megan Derr

Right Under My Nose by Parker, Ali, Parker, Weston

No Hesitations (The Fighter Series Book 5) by TC Matson