Lauren Smith

The Last Wicked Rogue: The League of Rogues – Book 9

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He’s the last Rogue standing, and the wickedest …

Charles Humphrey, the Earl of Lonsdale is infamous for his seductions. With laughing gray eyes and a halo of blond hair, he’s every woman’s wicked dream. Beneath that devil-may-care grin he has a painful past that has made him sure love was not for him, even as the rest of his friends, the members of the League of Rogues, settle down in wedded bliss. When he accidentally rescues a mysterious beauty with eyes as haunted as his own and shares one life-changing kiss with her, she vanishes in the night. Charles vows to find this angel who might yet save his soul but he knows anyone he cares about is in grave danger when an old enemy resurfaces a final time for revenge…

She’s the only woman who can save him…

Lily has secrets, too many secrets. When she’s abducted and taken into the London underworld by a gang of nefarious brutes, she’s rescued by Charles, the one man who can never know her past. She can’t let him discover her feelings or her secrets, but she can’t resist sharing one kiss with him before escaping his passionate embrace. That taste of the last bachelor of the League of Rogues leaves her desiring a future she cannot have — especially when her master demands she prove her loyalty in a most deadly way…

Warning: This book contains a scandalous rogue with a heart of gold, a lady who risks it all to save him, and a league of rogues who value friendship and love above all else.
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357 trycksidor
Ursprunglig publicering
2018
Utgivningsår
2018
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Citat

  • mhrasanenhar citeratför 2 år sedan
    companions.
    “We all agreed he needs intervention,” Godric reminded him. The duke’s eyes were full of a pain that Cedric felt deep in his bones. When one man in the League hurt, they all hurt. It wasn’t easy to explain, but it was undeniably true.
    Resigned to his duty, Cedric pointed out Charles. They turned to look where he was pointing. All the faces in the crowd were turned skyward to watch the fireworks, but something was amiss. A man about twenty feet from Charles was watching Charles. Then he seemed to notice the League watching him.
    “My God, it’s him,” Cedric said, half to himself.
    “Who?” asked Godric.
    “Gordon.” Cedric would never forget the face of the man who’d almost murdered him and his sister Horatia. He remembered the gardener’s cottage burning all around them, and how he’d been left blind for months afterward.
    The man locked eyes with Cedric and gave him a nod, then turned his attention back on Charles and reached into his coat.
    “Who is Gordon?” Godric asked.
    “My former footman,” said Lucien. “One of Hugo’s assassins!”
    Ashton spurred them into action. “Go! Stop him!”
    The League broke apart, each man shoving at the crowds around them, trying to find the quickest path to Charles and the man stalking him.
    Charles turned away and slipped into the hedgerows, vanishing from view, unaware of his peril. The assassin followed him like a black wraith into the shadows. Cedric was not a man to dwell on fanciful notions. He was a sportsman who needed to believe in things he could feel and touch, but the sight of that man haunting Charles’s steps in the cloaked gloom made Cedric wonder if devils were in fact real.
    Cedric shouldered a rather plump woman out of his way, who harrumphed in indignation, swinging at him with her fan, but he was already out of her way. Lucien, however

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