The Count's Last Mistress (The Valencourts #1)
by
Bess
Greenfield
Historical
Romance
Publisher:
Self/Indie
Release
Date:
March 12, 2013
Heat
Level:
Steamy
Word
Count:
91,000
Buy
Links
Description
She set out to expose
his true nature, but the secrets revealed were her own…
In the aftermath of war
and revolution, cavalry officer Olivier Valencourt, the comte de
Chaumenay, only wants peace. But his discovery of his deceased
brother’s child in a Montmartre hovel leads to a battle of wills
with the lovely but evasive American struggling to provide for him.
Determined to gain custody of his nephew, Olivier sets out to win the
audacious bohemian’s trust with patronage and patience, but her
courage, wisdom, and innocent sensuality divert his agenda.
Painter Jeanne Delancy
has good reason to despise the portrait-worthy count before she ever
meets him. She believes he’s the man who seduced and deserted her
friend long ago. Unfortunately, the talented and persuasive Olivier
is hard to dislike or resist in person.
Conflicted by loyalty to
her missing friend and her duty to the abandoned six-year-old she’s
vowed to protect, Jeanne feels obligated to give the war hero the
opportunity to prove he’s worthy of knowing his son. But the
independent woman who thinks herself immune to temptation
underestimates Olivier in many ways and reveals far more than she
ever anticipates. While the strong-willed opposites struggle to
reconcile their deepest longings, dangerous alliances and scandalous
secrets threaten a tragic repetition of history.
Warning: This title is
intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains adult sexual
situations and/or adult language, and may be considered offensive to
some readers.
Excerpt
The door opened, and the
impersonal explanation he’d memorized vanished from his mind. He’d
expected to see the lithesome, titian-haired beauty he’d known long
ago in Burgundy. Instead, he encountered a petite brunette in a
paint-smeared smock. There was also paint in one of the corkscrews of
hair which had fallen free of her chignon. Something about the woman
arrested him though he deemed her unconventionally pretty at best
with her wide forehead, long nose, and dainty mouth. Perhaps it was
her reaction to him. He could sense the frantic beating of her heart,
and her golden brown eyes telegraphed wariness.
He regretted causing her
distress and hastened to explain himself. “Good afternoon. I am
Olivier Valencourt.” He bowed instinctively. “I’m looking for
Claudine Ardaut, and I was informed she lived here. Is she at home?”
The young woman swallowed
and hesitated, clearly debating her reply. “I am not familiar with
anyone by that name.”
Her French was
grammatically correct, but her accent revealed her as American. It
surprised him to find a foreigner in Paris now. It was unlikely that
she’d come here recently. The ruins of landmarks and homes and the
mass burials of the executed made Paris a tourist destination only
for those with a morbid taste for tragedy. She must have come before
the war. There had been little warning when France declared war
against Prussia. Many foreigners found themselves trapped inside the
barricades along with working-class Parisians without the resources
to leave.
“I was given this
address by a reliable source,” he persisted. Instinct told him she
was lying.
“Are you implying that
I’m lying to you?” she asked in her slow, unnatural-sounding
manner of speech.
“Certainly not. I was
merely hoping you might know some little detail which would enable me
to find her.”
Absently, she touched her
face, leaving umber fingerprints upon her cheek. He felt an
irrational urge to wipe the paint from her smooth, fair skin. She was
pretty by any standard, he decided.
“Why are you looking
for this woman? Has she done something wrong?”
“No. I’ve come on a
personal matter.”
If
anything, she looked even more defensive. Her enormous eyes filled
with censure as if she knew what he’d done and the ramifications.
The guilt he’d been trying to suppress for weeks finally assailed
him. If only he’d kept his opinions to himself, so many lives might
have turned out differently.
Her
evasiveness maddened him. He only wished to complete his mission and
be done with the whole matter, and she was keeping him from
accomplishing that. He’d overcome far more challenging obstacles
than a reticent female. He’d been good at persuading women at one
time though he could scarcely recall those years now. Searching for
some way to draw her out, his glance fell upon her voluminous smock.
Sometimes the best strategy was the most obvious one. “You are a
painter, I see. I recently came into possession of some property and
could use some new art for decoration. Do you have anything for
sale?”
She frowned, instantly
suspicious. “Nothing is finished.”
“I know how you artists
are. Nothing is ever completed to your satisfaction.” He took a
step toward the threshold. “Why don’t you allow me to be the
judge?”
She held her ground. “I’m
certain my style would be too modern to suit your taste.”
She folded her arms about
her waist, and his eyes were instantly drawn to her small form. She
possessed a better figure than he’d thought, full round breasts and
a tiny waist. A strange sort of agitation arose inside him. With
astonishment, he recognized the sensation as lust. He hadn’t felt
desire for so many months he’d feared he might never regain that
part of his nature. Though he felt reassured that all was in working
order, the inappropriateness of his irrational attraction irritated
him. “And you know my taste.”
She surveyed his uniform
from his polished boots to his fitted jacket with its neat rows of
small gold buttons and black braiding. “You are an officer of some
sort. A military man. I would guess you are conservative and view art
primarily in terms of investment.”
He’d never given a
second thought to art, but he didn’t appreciate her making
assumptions about him. “There you are wrong. As it happens, I
prefer more modern pieces. Besides, your refusal to let me judge your
work only makes me more curious about it.”
About
the Author
Bess
Greenfield grew up in Pittsburgh and graduated from Cornell
University and University of Pittsburgh School of Law. Before coming
to the conclusion that she should pursue her passion and become a
novelist, she worked as a journalist for several newspapers, as a
lawyer, and as a waitress (disastrously). She is a lifelong
aficionado of romantic literature and currently lives in Northern
Virginia with her husband, three children, and overly affectionate
chocolate Labrador. When she is not dreaming up and researching new
stories or driving her children somewhere, she enjoys traveling,
walking in the forest, and adding to her growing collection of native
Virginia plants. For more information about Bess Greenfield and her
books, please visit www.bessgreenfield.com.
Giveaway
Prize is an eBook copy of "The Count's Last Mistress".
Contest is tour-wide and ends May 5. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.
To follow the rest of this tour, click on the schedule here.
Good luck
and
Happy reading!
~Stephanie
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