The Earl in My Bed by Stacy Reid #BlogTour with #Giveaway @st_reid @AuthorsPal










Stacy is an avid reader of novels with a deep passion for writing. She especially loves romance and adores writing about people falling in love. Stacy lives a lot in the worlds she creates and actively speaks to her characters (out loud). She has a warrior way, never give up on her dreams. When Stacy is not writing, she spends a copious amount of time drooling over Rick Grimes from Walking Dead, watching Japanese anime and playing video games with her love.

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For years, Daphne Wentworth, Countess Carrington has loved her powerful, enigmatic husband, despite the fact that they married under less than ideal circumstances. But no more. Finally at her breaking point, Daphne intends to create a scandal so big, her austere husband will have no choice but to divorce her. Except everything goes awry when he surprises her with the last thing she expected.
Sylvester Wentworth, Earl of Carrington, has returned to London for one reason—to seduce his wife. After a near-death experience, he is in need of an heir and means to make his marriage a real one. To his shock, though, his wicked, beautiful countess wants the exact opposite, and he must now do everything possible to entice his countess to stay forever.

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It was unbearably tempting to press her mouth to his. If she allowed the intimacy of a kiss, wasn’t that the doorway to her undoing? She was already so very aware of him. That echoing emptiness crept from the corners of her heart and darted through her. Daphne knew the press of his lips, the scent of him, the comfort of touch, the thrill of passion would suppress the chasm.

She should be doing everything in her heart to resist whatever this was, for if she allowed him close enough, he would soon be in her bed, and that way led to disaster, she knew it with a certainty that defied logic. Her lips paused a whisper below his, and the fingers on her hips tensed. A rush of fierce anticipation flowed through her veins, yet the dratted man did not press his advantage at her evident willingness. Instead, he waited, an odd sort of tension riding the air.

He kissed her. She made a soft sound and parted her lips. He tasted of mint, spice, and Sylvester himself. His tongue lightly skimmed along her lower lip, and she softened more against him. Then it was over.

Her lids fluttered open, and she stared at him in bemusement.

“Thank you,” he said.

She suddenly knew with a shattering certainty that their marriage as it had existed in that cold, indifferent state was over. What stood on the other side of the invitation, pain or happiness, she did not know, but she was willing for the next several weeks to discover it.

 



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