Beckman: Lord of Sins (Lonely Lords, Book 4) by Grace Burrowes

By Grace Burrowes

Beckman Haddonfield is able to dwell again...

After years of wandering, Beckman emerges from the shadow of the previous sorrows through agreeing to revive a relatives estate...and embarking on a dalliance with the quiet, beautiful housekeeper who is living there. however the girl isn't really who she seems...

Sara Hunt enjoys the eye bestowed upon her by way of the estate's good-looking customer, although she is aware Beckman's starting to be affection will die should still he study her startling mystery. She's ready to permit him cross, yet this time, Beck's decided to face and struggle for the only he loves...

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Extra info for Beckman: Lord of Sins (Lonely Lords, Book 4)

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As she fumbled with the tinderbox, her hands shook. The surface of the writing desk blazed into light. She spread the pictures—there were an even dozen of them—as best 46 Ju≥itπ Ivor¯ she could under the bright kerosene lamp. She could not believe what she saw. They were illicit pictures, sketches of naked men and women doing God knew what to each other. Submit’s heart began to pound. She looked up suddenly, as if someone were about to find her with these. Ridiculous. Dinner was an hour away. No one would be down.

A servant with a tray of glasses stopped into his shoulder blades. He was pinned against her finger. “You were completely ungracious at your end of the table,” she said. “Taciturn, glum. You hardly ate. I couldn’t catch your eye. ” “It has nothing to do with you. Let’s leave together. ” He made a mock smile. ” She rolled her eyes and reached up. She patted his cheek, returning a much more ingenuous smile than his. He caught her hand, turning his mouth into it, and bit the ball of flesh at the base of her thumb.

Her attention darted over her shoulder. “Don’t ruin it. ” “Please, Gray. I feel so English tonight. ” Rosalyn was not English at all. She was from Philadelphia. He made a face at her back. And she swung on him. She put a finger in his chest. A servant with a tray of glasses stopped into his shoulder blades. He was pinned against her finger. “You were completely ungracious at your end of the table,” she said. “Taciturn, glum. You hardly ate. I couldn’t catch your eye. ” “It has nothing to do with you.

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