They both loved everything about their new home. It was cozy and beautiful; the perfect place to raise a family. Which was fortuitous indeed, because Meg had a suspicion…
She touched her fingertips to her belly and nestled atop a soft cushion in the bay window.
“There you are!” Lucien came swaggering out of the kitchen, cupping a silver spoon with a heap of… something. “Taste this one.”
She tasted it, then wished she hadn’t.
“That tastes nothing like Désirée’s.” Meg clutched her throat as if poisoned. “Throw it away.”
He placed the spoon in her empty teacup instead and joined her in the window. “Are you spying on the neighbors?”
“We’re not close enough to see through their windows.” She pointed up at the sky. “I’m watching clouds instead. What does that one look like to you?”
“A redheaded champion, throbbing turgidly,” he answered without hesitation.
“It does not.” She snuggled into him. “It looks like a bunny. What about that one?”
He squinted. “It looks like… a swollen shaft, thick with sultry promise.”
She smacked his shoulder. “Are you reading my book?”
“It’s educational.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s given me all sorts of ideas.”
“Ideas on how to poison me with something that is definitely not your sister’s mille-feuille?”
“I’m getting closer,” he protested, swinging her into his arms as he rose to his feet. “Do you know what else I’d like to get closer to?”
“If you say my ‘milky white mounds of womanly flesh,’ so help me God…” she warned him.
He opened his eyes wide in faux innocence.
“It’s like you can read my mind,” he whispered, as he carried her to their bedchamber. “Except I was going to add something about the pert rosebuds protruding from them with innocent desire.”
“My nipples are brown,” she reminded him. “They don’t look anything like roses.”
“They’re sort of a tea-with-milk color,” he conceded. “I’m working on an appropriately flowery metaphor.”
She gasped in horror. “Are you writing a book?”
“I’m in the research stage,” he informed her. He tossed her into the center of the bed and pounced atop her. “Care to help me with my investigations?”
“Only for the rest of my life.” She wrapped her arms about him and pulled him close.
* * *
THE END
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Acknowledgments
As always, I could not have written this book without the invaluable support of my critique partner, beta readers, and editors. Huge thanks go out to Erica Monroe and Tessa Shapcott. You are the best!
Lastly, I want to thank the 12 Dukes of Christmas facebook group, my Historical Romance Book Club, and my fabulous street team. Your enthusiasm makes the romance happen.
Thank you so much!
Thank You For Reading
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In order, the 12 Dukes of Christmas:
Once Upon a Duke (FREE!)
Kiss of a Duke
Wish Upon a Duke
Dukes, Actually
The Duke’s Bride
The Duke’s Embrace
The Duke’s Desire
Dawn With a Duke
One Night With a Duke
Ten Days With a Duke
Forever Your Duke
In order, the Rogues to Riches books are:
Lord of Chance
Lord of Pleasure
Lord of Night
Lord of Temptation
Lord of Secrets
Lord of Vice
In order, the Dukes of War books are:
The Viscount’s Tempting Minx (FREE!)
The Earl’s Defiant Wallflower
The Captain’s Bluestocking Mistress
The Major’s Faux Fiancée
The Brigadier’s Runaway Bride
The Pirate's Tempting Stowaway
The Duke's Accidental Wife
In order, the Gothic Love Stories are:
Too Wicked to Kiss
Too Sinful to Deny
Too Tempting to Resist
Too Wanton to Wed
In order, the Magic & Mayhem books are:
Kissed by Magic
Must Love Magic
Smitten by Magic
About the Author
Erica Ridley is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of historical romance novels.
In the new 12 Dukes of Christmas series, enjoy witty, heartwarming Regency romps nestled in a picturesque snow-covered village. After all, nothing heats up a winter night quite like finding oneself in the arms of a duke!
Her two most popular series, the Dukes of War and Rogues to Riches, feature roguish peers and dashing war heroes who find love amongst the splendor and madness of Regency England.
When not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found riding camels in Africa, zip-lining through rainforests in Central America, or getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest.
Let’s be friends! Find Erica on:
www.EricaRidley.com
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