Moonlight on My Mind
By: Jennifer McQuiston
To ruin a man’s life once takes a regrettable mistake.
To do so twice takes a woman like Julianne Baxter.
Eleven months ago, Julianne’s statement to the authorities wrongly implicated Patrick, the new Earl of Haversham, in his older brother’s death. The chit is as much trouble as her red hair suggests, and just as captivating. Now she has impetuously tracked him to the wilds of Scotland, insisting that he return home to face a murder charge and save his family from ruin. A clandestine wedding may be the only way to save her reputation—and his neck from the hangman’s noose.
Julianne has no objection to the match. More and more she’s convinced of Patrick’s innocence, though when it comes to igniting her passions, the man is all too guilty. And if they can only clear his name, a marriage made in haste could bring about the most extraordinary pleasure…
Author Info
A veterinarian and infectious disease researcher by training, Jennifer McQuiston has always preferred reading romance to scientific textbooks. She resides in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, their two girls, and an odd assortment of pets, including the pony she promised her children if mommy ever got a book deal. Jennifer can be reached via her website at www.jenmcquiston.com or followed on Twitter @jenmcqwrites.
EXCERPT
A firm knock at the door granted a reprieve from her mounting panic. “Just a moment!” she called out, securing the towel in a hasty fist across her chest, her skin itching in anticipation of a clean night rail and an actual, honest-to-goodness comb. “Come in.”
But it was not the hotel maid who opened the door. Patrick stood frozen on the threshold, his head skimming the top of the doorframe. His brown-eyed gaze locked on her face, a fact that should have seemed comforting, given the other bits and parts of her that might have drawn his attention.
But this was Patrick, and she was almost naked, and even that safest of visual exchanges jarred with the ferocity of a thunderclap.
Despite the chill in the air, heat licked along her limbs. Heavens, but standing in close proximity to this man did unexpected—and not entirely pleasant—things to her stomach. She drew a deep breath, filling her lungs with the necessary outrage. “I am not dressed!” she exclaimed, wrestling the towel higher, praying she was not revealing worse in the process of ensuring her bosom was covered.
“Then you should not have invited me in.”
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