Eyton

Richard and Rose: Book Five:
Scandal, murder and passion - an ordinary day for Richard and Rose

When Richard and Rose visit his family estate in Derbyshire to celebrate the christening of their firstborn, Rose comes face to face with some hard realities about the powerful Kerre family. The vast majority of them are far from delighted with Richard’s choice of wife. Plus, they think a man who shares his bed with his wife every night must have something wrong with him.

Rose is driven half mad by Richard’s overly careful love for her. Somewhere underneath that smooth, sophisticated surface lies the passionate, intense lover she longs for—and she takes steps to seduce that savage lover back into her bed.

Their joyous occasion is marred by the theft of a valuable necklace. Richard’s family looks to him to solve the crime—but something isn’t adding up. Evidence pointing to two trusted servants seems too convenient…and then they’re murdered.

From the tangle of jealousies, secrets and desperate lies, Richard and Rose once again dance on the edge of danger to achieve justice—without dragging the family name into public scandal.

eBook ISBN · 978-1-60504-691-4
Publisher · Samhain Publishing
Genre · Sensual Historical Romance
Length · Full Length Novel

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“You’re here.”
“So I am,” he replied. “Are you tired, my love? Would you like to go to bed?”
“No I’m not tired, but I would like to go to bed.” It was an echo of our first night in Venice, an indication he had been thinking about it too.
I went into his arms. We stood for a long time, holding each other, before he gently loosened his hold and took my hand to lead me to the bed. He undid the fastenings on my dressing gown and undid his own. Neither of us wore anything underneath. I touched his hair, short, with a natural wave. I thought it gave him an angelic look. “Will you ever wear a nightcap?”
“I doubt it. The absurdity would make us both laugh too much to get any sleep.”
“You could wear a nightshirt with it,” I pointed out. “Most men do.”
“And you’re classifying me with most men?”
I smiled. “There you have me.”
Softly he kissed me and pushed my dressing gown off my shoulders. I let it slide to the floor.
I thrilled to see his gaze ignite. “I can’t believe I have you.”
“Believe it. It’s true.” His voice excited me right to the marrow.
He slipped off his own gown and drew back the light bedcovers that were all we needed on this warm night. Candles burned on the dressing table and on each of the nightstands so we could see each other. I got into bed and held out my arms for him. He came to me gladly.
“This time,” I whispered to him, my mouth close to his, “I want to make love all night. I want to see the sun rise, and know I’ve been with you every minute, every hour.” We would make tonight count.
He moved to hold me close, to make love to me, to show me his love in the most physical way, but the way that brought spiritual fulfilment sighing in its wake, that made the difference between love and sexual congress. This would be our time, our night.
I was determined to make this night memorable. Since it was summer and the fire not lit, I had a supply of candles on hand, so I could see him whenever I wanted to. My hair was brushed into a shining sheet of waves, a chestnut sea for him. I left it loose, to fall below my shoulders for his pleasure.
He took his time. He touched me, loved me, as though this were the first time and we had come fresh to each other, except by now he knew what I liked best, what would give the best response, the most intense sensation. I no longer felt awkward with him, indeed I hadn’t felt like that since our first night together.
He touched me, kissed where he had touched, my mouth first, deep and sweet, our bodies pressed together, my breasts against his chest, our legs entwined. “You have the sweetest taste in the world, my love, my only love.”
I touched him in return and ran my hands over his lean strength. “My heart is yours, my body and everything I have.”

He slid down, cradling my breasts in his hands before he kissed each one and took my nipples into his mouth to taste and nip. He could have done that all night and I would have begged for more, but he left them with reluctant kisses, to touch and lick further down, lingering at the soft space inside my hip, where I was particularly sensitive. His hands on my hips prevented me from wriggling out from his grasp, and his low chuckle told me he knew the reaction he had on me.

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Reviews and news

When Richard and Rose weren’t busy satisfying others, they spent time with their daughter or pleasuring each other. Add in murder, a thief, and overbearing parents and the plot thickens even more. I was surprised at how Ms. Connolly ended this story, yet pleased at how the family pulled together to protect one another. I say well done Ms. Connolly, and I am hoping to read a little more in regards to a few of the secondary characters soon. Hint. Hint.
Goddess Minx for Literary Nymphs

I love the snapshot of the mid-eighteenth century presented in these stories. Your history is definitely not wallpaper but detailed, in depth, well researched and integrated into the fabric of the plot...
This showcases one of the strengths of the series – that it portrays the evolving relationship between these two characters as would be expected in any marriage.
Jayne for Dear Author. A "Dear Author Recommends" book.

Lynne Connolly pens stories that fascinate me. I was completely hooked once I started reading about Richard and Rose. The beautiful landscape, and the lovely era, was so authentic that I could feel every single presence as if there in the middle of the events. Richard and Rose are characters that found a way into my heart and I could not release them, especially Rose. I wanted to share in her happiness and everything that encircled her life. Harley Street, Richard and Rose is so beautifully told it leaves a fond impression with this reader.
Cherokee for Coffee Time Romance & More