By Stephanie Laurens
What may you do for those who have been kissed by way of the main good-looking stranger you'll ever obvious? And what if that guy used to be a Cynster?
Every girl—even convent-educated ones—dreams of forbidden kisses. So whilst a guy actually falls at Helena's toes as she's strolling throughout the courtyard one moonlit Christmas Eve, the gorgeous, younger comtesse d'Lisle is aware he is as much as no sturdy. he is basically a section dangerous... and clearly stuck in the midst of a clandestine rendezvous. Why else may he have risked his neck and jumped out of a window into the snow?
It's unsuitable, it is outlandish . . . and it is the such a lot completely romantic gesture she's ever noticeable. So while the great sisters rush up, tough to grasp ifshe has noticeable a guy at the grounds, Helena ignores the years of strict upbringing that insist she exhibit his presence.
To lie will be a sin, yet 'no one could be reliable all of the time.
As a gift for her silence, the stranger takes her in his hands and enticingly, unforgettably kisses her—and then departs, leaving a lingering if unstated promise of all that would be, may still destiny decree that they meet back. even if Helena does not comprehend it, her wild Englishman is Sebastian Cynster, Duke of St. Ives, a nobleman who will end up to be her destiny.
Seven years later, Helena has been remodeled from a good looking schoolgirl to an aristocratic good looks. Her gleaming wit has made her wanted by way of London's hostesses; her massive dowry has made profitable her hand the purpose of many a gentleman . . . yet she is deadeningly conscious of how boring such a lot of ofthese gents are.
Her manipulative mum or dad has unexpectedly allowed her to discover a husband of her personal settling on, and he or she has no purpose of marrying any guy who attempts to tame her. There has to be a person excellent for her . . . a person who can reside as much as the promise ofthat long-ago kiss.
Then, at a ball, destiny moves. once more, it's the Christmas season, and around the crowded room Helena stands transfixed . . . for there's the guy whose kiss she hasn't ever forgotten, the fellow of her reminiscence whom no different has ever been capable of supplant. Her wild, mysterious Englishman, Sebastian Cynster, Duke of St. Ives.
One glance, and he is made up our minds to reclaim her . . . .