Saving a Lady...with Lorraine Heath and Giveaway

Saving a Lady on Christmas Eve - Lorraine Heath

New York Times bestselling author Lorraine Heath always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, press releases for a publicist, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. In 1990, she read a romance novel and became not only hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She's been writing about them ever since.

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When I was first given my theme, Saving a Lady on Christmas Eve, I thought how well it fit with my Christmas e-novella, DECK THE HALLS WITH LOVE, which is the story of a lady who needs to be rescued from marrying the wrong man. As I pondered an unrelated scene for my theme, I thought of rain-swept moors, a lady running from something, a lady in danger, but then Lady Penelope Persimmon nudged my shoulder. She was a lady in dire need of being rescued from obscurity. These characters don’t appear in any of my other stories.

A Christmas Waltz

by Lorraine Heath

It had been three years since Lady Penelope Persimmon had been relegated to obscurity. She should be accustomed to the inattentiveness of the male species by now. She should have accepted that love would forever be denied her. But as she sat in her chair at the edge of the dance floor while the strains of a waltz echoed through the room, she closed her eyes and remembered the last time she’d been swept over a gleaming parquet floor. . .

Of all her dance partners on this Christmas Eve, Randolph Fitzweather, the Earl of Garland, was by far the handsomest. His warm sapphire eyes held her green ones as he guided her expertly around the other couples. His black hair framed a face of sharp edges and strong lines. He smelled of bergamot and orange. His large hands held her steady, his movements those of a man sure of himself and his place in Society. He had danced with her often during the Season. He strolled with her through the parks. He’d ridden with her along Rotten Row. She had dreamed that soon he would approach her father and she would spend the remainder of her life in his arms.

She opened her eyes to find him standing there as though she had conjured him with her thoughts. So tall that she had to crane her neck back to meet his gaze.

“I thought mayhap you’d fallen asleep,” he said.

She smiled softly. “Dreaming, but not asleep. I didn’t know you’d returned from your travels.”

Three years ago, on the day following the night she had her last dance with him, he’d gone on a tour of the world. She envied him his freedom to do as he pleased, to move about with such ease.

“I missed England . . . and other things.”

In his eyes, she read that she was included in the other things. Her heart felt a pang of remorse, of loss.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” he asked.

Her smile turned sad, melancholy. “You know why.”

“It’s true then, what I’ve heard.”

She released a bitter laugh. “I don’t sit in a chair with wheels on it because I find it so terribly fashionable.”

“I heard it was a riding accident.”

She nodded. “Silly thing, really. I urged my horse over a hedgerow that she must have leapt over a thousand times. Only this time, she stumbled.”

She still experienced the rush of the air on her face, the smoothness of flying through the air, then the unexpected jaggedness and the tumble—

The ground knocking the breath out of her, the crack echoing around her, the pain radiating through her chest, the absence of sensation below her waist.

“You should have sent word,” he said.

“There’s nothing you could have done. I was beyond rescuing.”

He studied her, quietly, intensely, as was his way. “How bad is it, Penny?”

“I’ll never walk again, Gar.”

The sadness in his eyes almost made her weep. She could hardly stand it. He had always been there for her, but there was nothing he could do for her now.

“So,” she began, in order to lighten the mood. “Tell me of your travels.”

“They were lonely, far lonelier than I expected.”

“But you must have seen wonderful things.”

“None as wonderful as you. I missed you, Pen. I often thought of our last dance. I think I fell in love with you that night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m rather sure of it as a matter of fact. I want to dance with you again.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t dance, Gar. Do you not understand? I can’t even tap my foot in time to the music.”

He moved in closer. Impossible as it seemed, she could feel his warmth through his clothing. She remembered the heat that seeped from him into her during their last dance.

He trailed a finger over her collarbone, and she closed her eyes at the marvelous sensation. It had been so very long since anyone had touched her.

“Can you feel that?” he asked.

Opening her eyes, she discovered he was kneeling beside her. “Of course I can.”

He cradled her cheek. His hand was rough. She almost reminded him that he should be wearing gloves, but she loved the feel of his bared palm. “That?”

She nodded. “Gar—”

“This?” he whispered softly and pressed his lips to hers.

It was lovely, so very lovely. He tasted dark and rich as he swept his tongue through her mouth. His moan was accompanied by her sigh. She entangled her fingers in his hair. Bittersweet. It was so bittersweet.

He drew back. “Dance with me, Pen.”

“Are you mad?”

“Madly in love—with you. I always have been.”

He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the dance area. She wound her arms around his neck.

“Gar, what are you doing?”

“Giving you one more waltz, only this time when it ends rather than head to parts unknown, I intend to ask you to marry me, so be prepared with your answer.”

Burying her head in the nook of his shoulder, she relished his smooth movements as he swept her over the dance floor. He was saving her from obscurity. He was giving her everything she ever dreamed of.

“Yes,” she whispered near his ear, tightening her hold on him. “Yes.”

Christmas is a time for miracles…and second chances at love.

In her dazzling first Season, Lady Meredith Hargreaves gave her heart to Alistair Wakefield, the Marquess of Chetwyn, only to have it shattered when he proposed to another. And now that he’s free to pursue her? It matters little, because she’s on her way to the altar, heartbreak be damned.

Chetwyn once set aside his own dreams in favor of duty and honor. But as Christmas approaches, he is determined to put his own desires first and get Lady Meredith back into his arms where she belonged all along.

First he steals a dance; then he steals a kiss. But when they find themselves alone in an abandoned castle during a snow storm, passion reignited consumes them both. And Chetwyn will have one last chance to steal back Meredith’s heart, once and for all.

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Up For Grabs:

• 1 lucky winner will win a copy(print or eBook) of Lord of Temptation

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**Don't forget to head over to Not Another Romance Blog to check out author, Nicola Cornick's story.

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