A younger man bent on seduction. An older woman determined to resist. A love that cannot be denied.
Part of the Leather and Lace series
Jameson McEwan is widowed, but happy with her lot in life. After suffering through an arranged marriage to an older man, she's had little romance and very little experience with men--other than ordering them around on her ranch.
Seth Conner has harbored a bit of an obsession for Jamie since the tender age of sixteen. Now that she's widowed, he has sensed her reluctance to wed again and has kept his distance. When she says she's marrying another man--strictly as a business arrangement--Seth decides he's waited long enough.
Jamie never expected to find herself in bed shivering with desire, especially not with Seth. One taste of a night filled with passion, and she finds he's as addictive as liquor. But their age difference and her responsibilities hold her back from considering a future with him. Seth refuses to take no for an answer.
As the dance of seduction heats up, trouble brews. Someone is poisoning Jamie's cattle, setting fires on her ranch. Someone is hell-bent on making sure Jamie and Seth never find happiness, someone who will stop at nothing--including murder.
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November 20, 2007
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Excerpt from The Seduction of Widow McEwan by Melissa Schroeder
Delicious heat crawled through Jamie's body as magical hands swept over her flesh. She moved restlessly against the bed, the linens wrapping around her ankles. Wet kisses, then warm hands skimmed up her legs, drifting over her body, until a lean hard body covered hers.
"Jamie," a familiar voice whispered. "Wake up, sweetheart."
Breath feathered against her skin, followed by another wet, openmouthed kiss. She shivered as she felt the scrape of teeth against her flesh. She didn't want to wake up, ever. Of all her dreams, she had never had one so vivid, so mesmerizing. The temptation to give in, to indulge in her reverie was just too much. Opening her eyes, even acknowledging there was a world outside her dream, would cause it to crash.
She pressed her legs together as the pressure built between her thighs. Sparks of heat flowed through her blood.
"Jamie." Low, seductive, the voice called out to her again. She wanted to respond to the request, to the desire she heard, but she didn't want to leave the delectable fantasy.
Jamie shifted her weight, her body brushing up against something solid, something altogether too real. She paused, first in confusion, then in fear. This was no dream. Afraid of what she would find, she slowly opened her eyes. Her heart stuttered when she found Seth above her.
"What are you doing here?" She meant it as a reprimand, but her voice was husky with desire.
His lips curved into a tempting smile filled with sensual promise. For a second, she couldn't think, couldn't separate the reality from the fantasy, until her mind finally merged the two together. Every bit of moisture dried up in her mouth, while her palms grew damp.
"I thought I'd show what I meant by pleasure."
Again, the way he said the word had her curling her toes. She knew he would be more than knowledgeable about the subject. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't repress the shiver of delight at the thought of having those talented hands--not to mention that mouth--skimming over her body.
Traitorous hope stirred to life in her heart. If there was one man who knew about passion--who could teach her--it had to be Seth. His reputation with women was enough to make a soiled dove blush. For one brief moment, she thought maybe, just maybe, she could find satisfaction with him.
As fast as it came to life the hope slipped away. Sid had no problems with whores, as he as he told her on more than one occasion. Swallowing her regret, her despair, she shook her head.
"It would be a waste of time, Seth."
He frowned. "Now, don't let my age fool ya none. I know more--"
"I'm sure you do, Seth. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."
He didn't say anything for a second or two, just stared down at her. Her eyes had adjusted to the minimal light, and she could read the expressions darting over his face. Aggravation, then confusion, melted into comprehension and finally determination.
"Jamie." His tone was a strange mixture of irritation and tenderness. He bent his head to brush his mouth over hers once, twice, then pressed his lips to hers. She wanted to tell him to stop, that there was no use in this nonsense because she could find no satisfaction in the marital act. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she lost a bit more of her resistance.
Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth for him. He stole inside as he cupped her face. He rubbed his fingers over her cheeks, his calluses rough against her skin. He murmured something she couldn't make out. The words didn't matter. It was the rough tone, the arousal in his voice that spoke to her. Something stirred deep within her soul, something she thought dead, long-ago damaged by her marriage.