What has she gotten herself into?
A Season for Treason by Golden Angel will scandalize on January 12!
A traitor. A courtship. A scandalous Season.
In the race against time, will this pair reach the altar or the traitor first?
In the service of England’s spymaster (well, his niece, but surely he’ll appreciate the help), Miss Mary Wilson is on a mission to uncover a treasonous plot. Though her only clue leads to the debaucherous secret society of the Marquess of Hartford, a lifetime of being overlooked should ensure her access to all of the gossip her assignment will require. There’s just one problem: Mary is due to find a husband this Season and her Aunt Elizabeth, the Viscountess Hood, is determined to see her niece shine bright.
Focused on finding the perfect bride this Season, the Marquess of Hartford, known to his friends as Rex, finds himself distracted by the quiet Miss Wilson as she continually turns up everywhere she shouldn’t be. As Rex considers the misbehaving Miss Wilson, a curious thought occurs to him. Is it possible that she could be the kind of bride who would enjoy life by his side and the pursuits of the Society of Sin?
**This book contains steamy scenes and the firm discipline of a sassy heroine when she requires it.
Enjoy this steamy excerpt!
One quick, practiced tug of Hartford’s hand and all the breath left Mary’s body as she found herself tumbling forward over Hartford’s lap with dizzying precision. The whole world upended, leaving her staring at the carpet as the circumstances of her situation became all too real. There was no denying the firm thighs beneath her stomach, the hard ridge pressing into her side, or the sudden dread that coursed through her body.
No man had ever seen her legs much less… well, much less than everything Hartford was seeing now. On the other hand, even with her skirts up around her waist, she was still more covered than the vast majority of the people present in the household. And, given those activities, had she really expected him to spank her over her skirts?
Deep down she had known. She must have.
“Good girl.” His voice sounded deeper. Rougher. The center of her drawers parted, revealing the bare skin of her bottom and Mary covered her face with her hands, suddenly incredibly grateful for her position over his lap. Somehow, not being able to see his expression made the indignity more bearable.
A large, warm hand covered one cheek of her bottom, rubbing slightly as if preparing the skin for its upcoming chastisement, and a shiver went straight up her spine. Never had a man touched her so intimately—she would have never permitted it even if she had found one who wanted to do so. Yet here she was, over Hartford’s lap, allowing him to not only touch her but punish her, and she could not even articulate why.