The Scandalous Proposal Of Lord Bennett. Raven McAllan

       To have and to hold?

      Reluctant debutante Lady Clarissa Macpherson has never forgotten the forbidden kiss she shared with notorious rake, Lord Theodore ‘Ben’ Bennett, all those years ago. Even now, he’s the one man who sets Clarissa’s pulse racing and her skin tingling – no matter how hard she tries to ignore it!

      Yet, when Ben rescues her from the unwanted advances of a drunken Lord at a society ball, she finds herself in a most scandalous predicament – engaged, to the most eligible bachelor in London.

      Wedded? It appears so, but bedded? Clarissa demands more from her marriage than simply surrendering to her new husband’s sexual desires, especially when she realises she’s falling deeper in love with him every single day. Ben must prove that she’s the only woman for him – and surrender his heart.

       Yet resisting her new husband’s delicious seduction may prove the hardest thing Clarissa has ever done…

       The Scandalous Proposal of Lord Bennett

      Raven McAllan

       www.CarinaUK.com

       RAVEN MCALLAN

      lives in Scotland, the land of lochs, glens, mountains, haggis, men in kilts (sometimes) and midges. She enjoys all of them—except midges. They’re not known as the scourge of Scotland for nothing.

      Her long-suffering husband has learned how to work the Aga, ignore the dust bunnies who share their lives, and pour the wine when necessary.

      Raven loves history, which is just as well, considering she writes Regency romance, and often gets so involved in her research she forgets the time.

      She loves to travel, and says she and her hubby are doing their gap year in three week stints. All in the name of research of course.

      She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her via her website www.ravenmcallan.com

      To Paul, UCW and the RavDor Chicks for their support, and to Carina for their faith in me.

      To Charlotte for her hard work in getting this book from me to you.

       Contents

       Cover

       Blurb

       Title Page

       Author Bio

       Dedication

       Acknowledgements

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Excerpt

       Endpages

       Copyright

       Chapter One

       I hate balls. Balls, and stupid so-called gentlemen of the ton, who are no gentlemen at all. Debs, balls, catty gossips and yes, bloody balls.

      Why on earth had her papa insisted she attend? He knew as well as she did, she had no wish to dance. She’d spend most of the night fending off inappropriate advances from idiots who thought because she’d reached a certain age and was unwed, she would welcome their attention, and need their protection, be it improper or not.

      How wrong could they be?

      Lady Clarissa Macpherson stared at one young buck in such a way that he blanched, took a step backwards, turned away and muttered something to his companion.

      Of course it had to be Lord Theodore Bennett who stood next to the idiot. Lord Bennett grinned and, as he saw her watching, bowed mockingly. The one man who got under her guard and made her wonder, what if …

      It was oh so easy to cast her mind back to the one time the ‘what if’ almost became ‘now I know’.

      If only.

      It was enough to make a saint swear, and Clarissa was no saint.

      She’d been sixteen, and not yet out. The summer was hot, and she’d spent a few weeks at the ancestral seat in Northumberland with her father, and unusually, no house party. Even her best friend had left to return to her own home and Clarissa was bored.

      Phillip, her elder brother, had called unexpectedly with one of his closest friends. Lord Theodore Bennett was everything a woman could want in a man, and everything she shouldn’t. Wealthy, tall, dark and handsome – and the sort of rake mamas warned their daughters not to associate with, unless in a large crowd, and preferably with the said mama to watch every move. As Clarissa’s mama had died when she was young, it fell to her godmother to tell her … Watch him. Which she did, although probably not in the manner meant.

      As in the ways of a brother, Phillip had ignored Clarissa and the two young men spent most of their time roaming the estate. If it had stayed like that, perhaps her attitude would have been different.

      However …

      Clarissa had watched Phillip and Ben walk towards the copse with guns and bags and surmised they were after pheasants. Her father was ensconced in his study with the factor, and had no time to spend with her. Therefore, she reasoned, no one would know if she sneaked off to fish. It had taken mere minutes to put on an old – and somewhat too tight and several inches too short – shabby gown and her elderly sandals and purloin a slice of bread from the kitchen while the chef was otherwise engaged. Then she’d headed to the river in the opposite direction from that which the men had taken.

      Three fish and four hours later, she’d looked at the sun and realised she’d better make haste to get home in time to tidy up for dinner. The fish were too small to eat, and thus returned to the water before she scrambled up the bank and ran headfirst into a tree trunk.

      It hadn’t been there before. Clarissa put out her hand to steady herself and touched … not bark, but body.

      A hard male body.

      What followed was either the stuff of dreams or nightmares,