Read an #Excerpt from As Rich as a Rogue by Jade Lee + #Giveaway

As Rich as a Rogue 
(Rakes and Rogues #3)
by Jade Lee
Paperback, 416 pages
Expected publication: August 2nd 2016 by Sourcebooks Casablanca
ISBN 1492605050

Third in the saucy, vibrant Rakes & Rogues Regency romance series from USA Today bestselling author Jade Lee

A most unusual wager

Mari Powel's fiery Welsh temper is up. Peter Norwood, Lord Whitly, is back in town after six years romping around India making his fortune. Mari blames him for her social downfall and has spent all this time clawing her way back into the ton's good graces. How dare he show up on his first day back and publicly embroil her in a bet involving long-awaited apologies, illicit kisses, and Lady Illston's unruly parakeet? Mari is outraged, and is going to show him-and everyone else-what she's made of. Little does she know, the unrepentant Lord Whitly has been dreaming of her all this time. Now he'll do anything to win the wager-along with Mari's heart.

AMAZON | B&N

Excerpt 

Note from the author:

Lord Whitly and Miss Mari Powel have history. Six years ago he gave her the nickname Wayward Welsh and that has dogged her so much that she can’t find a husband. Worse, Mari overheard the comment and saw the ruination of her good name happen. So what did she do? She danced with Lord Whitly and exacted her revenge. This scene is where they confront what happened that night.

***

“Shall I tell you what I remember of that night?” he asked.

“No—”

He spoke right over her. “I remember asking you to dance and being pleased when you agreed. Then step by step, whenever we were close, you began to eviscerate me.”

She nearly choked on her gasp of outrage. “I did no such thing.”

“You whispered things into my ear, so soft I had to bend to hear them. I thought they would be sweet confessions or delicate words.”

“You had just damned both me and my sister. I heard it clearly. And then, I watched Fitzhugh repeat it to everyone at the ball.”

He barely heard her. He was too caught up in the memory of her words from that night, of the tight horror in his chest, and the dull agony of knowing he had to complete the dance or lose composure in front of the whole ton. “You called me a useless fribble, wasting my life and my money away. You named me cruel and lazy. But more than that, you said I was the worst kind of Englishman, because I did nothing of any value.” With his free hand, he lifted her chin until they stood eye to eye. “You called me useless that night, Miss Powel. You destroyed me.”

He hadn’t meant to reveal that to her. In truth, he hadn’t even thought those words in such a way before this very moment. But the strength with which he gripped her, the anger that seethed in his blood, and the resentment that blistered his tongue as he spoke, all pointed at how hideous that moment had been for him.

Broken furniture was useless. A drunken servant was useless. He was a peer of the realm, or would be when he inherited. By definition, he was not useless.

And yet in the short time of a single dance, she’d laid his soul bare and named it useless. It was only his pride that had made him finish the dance before he gave her a dismissive bow then fled. He’d gone as fast as he could to the nearest brothel, where he’d gotten himself blind drunk then robbed by the strumpets. And when that hadn’t worked to blot out her words, he’d run all the way to India.

And that had been the making of him.

That too was why he loved her. Because she had said exactly what he’d needed to hear in exactly the way to force him out of his lethargy. If she hadn’t flayed him alive, he’d likely still be sunk deep in drink and cunny. And all anyone would ever say of him was…

“Useless,” he repeated in a hissing whisper. “You named me useless.”

“Clearly I was wrong,” she said. “You were powerful enough to make me suffer for six years.”

“And you were vicious enough to send me to India, where, I assure you, I had much worse done to me than a little name-calling.”

She blinked, and her mouth pursed into a sweet

O. She smelled of apples and musk, and without even looking, he knew her nipples were tight. She was aroused, and he was painfully hard. Clearly one of them was insane. He for desiring her when she’d been so terrible to him. Or she for hating him and yet allowing herself to remain panting in his arms.

“I am not wayward,” she said, her chin hardened with stubbornness.

“I am not useless.”

She swallowed. She looked at his lips, and he let his gaze drop to her breasts. Plump and pointed. He tightened his grip on her. She didn’t even try to escape.

Instead, she met him eye to eye. Her head was canted back, exposing the arch of her neck. His gaze was burning downward at her, and he wanted nothing more than to free himself from his clothing and let her see what she did to him.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

 “What?”

“Sure you would refuse my offer?” 

Rakes and Rogues series

About the Author:

USA Today bestselling author Jade Lee has been crafting love stories since she first picked up a set of paper dolls. Ballgowns and rakish lords caught her attention early (thank you Georgette Heyer), and her fascination with the Regency began. An author of more than 40 romance novels and winner of dozens of reader awards, she brings laughter into the sexy nights of England's elite. Quirky characters and sexy banter are her hallmarks. Find out more at her website www.JadeLeeAuthor.com, or check out her wild contemporary half at www.KathyLyons.com.

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