Too Great a Temptation by Alexandra Benedict

From the Publisher

A lord so sinful he is dubbed the "Duke of Rogues," Damian Westmore lives for pleasure—until the day his brother dies at the hands of pirates. Abandoning the libertine life to pursue revenge, Damian finds the criminals he seeks and joins their crew in disguise, waiting for the chance to strike the brigands down. But he never imagined there would be a woman on board—or that the stunning siren would inflame the very passions Damian swore to resist until his brother's death was avenged.

Beautiful, fiery Mirabelle Hawkins longs for the freedom of the high seas—so she stows away on her brother's pirate ship at the first opportunity. But she finds something more exciting than chase and plunder: a bold, handsome, secretive sailor whose touch makes her tremble with desire . . . but whose love is a cutlass that could destroy all she holds dear.

Publishers Weekly

Newcomer Benedict (A Forbidden Love) introduces two delightful characters in her sophomore historical romance: Damian Westmore, known as "The Duke of Rogues," is a debauched sensualist who delights only in the pleasures of the flesh; Mirabelle Hawkins, a fiery young sailor, is determined to become a pirate like her brothers. Damian is the newest crew member aboard the Hawkins brothers' ship, the Bonny Meg, where he's to serve as the navigator, much to Mirabelle's consternation. What Mirabelle and the rest of the crew don't know is that Damian's brother, Adam, was killed at sea by pirates, and Damian has concealed his identity and learned sailcraft in order to find the murderous villains. While aboard, however, Damian finds himself falling in love with Mirabelle, distracting him from his plan for revenge. Soon he discovers that the Hawkinses may in fact be the very pirates responsible for his brother's death. Benedict has not only picked a fresh setting for her historical, she's brought considerable chemistry to the romance between Hawkins and Westmore, both convincingly detailed characters. Supporting turns by the Hawkins brothers are keen and comical, and dialogue is both snappy and strong. Fans of historical romance will thoroughly enjoy this fresh take on the genre and likely come back for more of Benedict's work in the future. (Nov.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

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Too Great a Temptation

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Chapter One

New York, 1821

Damian needed money. Lots of it. Ironic, really, that he, a duke, with his coffers of gold back home in England, should find himself a virtual beggar on the streets of New York. But when had fate ever been kind to him?

Wending through the bustling city port, the duke passed jeering sailors and vulgar wenches alike, making his way to the nearest gaming hell. A few coins in his pocket, he intended to amass a small fortune. And he could do it, too. Years of debauchery had prepared him for just such an endeavor. But unlike his former besotted self, he was sober now. With all his wits intact, Damian hoped to recoup as much of his wealth as he could. His ship was in dire need of repairs, and the crew would not follow him in exchange for bread crumbs. He needed blunt.

Damian came to a halt.

Neptune's Revenge.

It was aptly named, the shore house, for Damian, too, was seeking revenge at sea. And he was in desperate need of good luck. A shoddy hole christened after the wrathful sea king seemed the perfect place to find it.

But a nearby scuffle distracted the duke--and made the blood pound in his veins.

"Admit it, kid, you were cheatin'."

The horde, five in total, circled the so-called kid, a strapping young buck sporting a cheeky grin, who quipped, "Me cheat?" He snorted. "Sorry,Yanks. 'Fraid we Brits are just unbeatable."

Damian blinked.

The kid disappeared under a pummel of fists. Yet it was not the brutal thrashing that stirred the frantic rage in Damian's gut. It was the kid. He recognized the kid. It was Adam!

With a roar, Damian launched right into the fray and did a little pounding of his own. He had to save Adam! One thug staggered off with a bleeding nose, another stumbled away with a broken arm. But Damian soon lost the chance to trounce any more ruffians.

Shots rang out.

The kid was hit in the arm with a bullet.

Whistles blowing, pistols flailing, the authorities rounded up the lot of them. And it was then Damian looked down at the kid, curled in a dusty heap, and realized the boy was not Adam. He only looked like Adam.

Stunned by his visceral response, Damian could not say a word when the authorities snapped the shackles over his wrists. What the devil had come over him?

Carted off to the nearest gaol, Damian was tossed inside the brig, the kid his cellmate, and for three days he suffered imprisonment. Three miserable, dull days. And all the while he sat chained in the corner, brooding.

Woeful thoughts interrupted, Damian glanced down at the kid--Quincy was his name--groaning and stirring on the clump of hay. And try as he might to ignore the chap's distress, Damian could not.

Bloody hell. With each passing day, he grew more and more sentimental. A blubbering saphead, as his father would say. Teeth ground in disgust, Damian propped his manacled wrists under the lad's chest and pushed.

Quincy rolled over, hacking, and brought his forearm to his eyes to block the shaft of moonlight resting on his face. He was like a ghost, so pale and sluggish, and Damian could feel that galling worry creeping into his chest again.

"Wake up!" he ordered, kicking the kid in the leg for good measure. "You'll die if you sleep any more."

"Bollocks," came the weak but stubborn protest. "And I'll draw your cork if you kick me again."

Damian snorted. The lad didn't have the strength to roll over, but he was going to break Damian's nose? The duke had to admire the kid's spirit, but still, it was not enough to save the chap. An infection had set into the bullet wound, and the boy's breathing had changed to odd, raspy gasps.

"I'd like to see you try and draw my cork," goaded the duke, hoping to stir some life back into the weary chap.

But Quincy wasn't taking the bait. He merely grunted at the suggestion.

There was nothing more Damian could do for the kid. The gaol cell, with little food and water, no clean linens, and no surgical instruments, made for a very poor infirmary. Besides, Damian's medical talent was lackluster at best. After abandoning his castle, leaving the land steward in charge of the estate, he'd spent the last two years learning to sail, rig a mast, fire a cannon with deadly accuracy. He'd improved upon his fencing, his aim with a pistol, even his use of a knife. But he had no real use for the healing art. His purpose in life was to destroy: to destroy the piratical fiends who had murdered his brother.

Blast it! He should be out there right now, looking for the brigand swine, instead of playing nursemaid to a troubled buck. Curse the wretched storm that brought him here! But for the wild tempest that had thrashed his ship a few days ago, he would never have limped into port in desperate need of repairs. Repairs, of course, cost money, and since a good chunk of his coin had washed overboard during the squall, money was one thing he didn't have in abundance.

At first it seemed a trifle bind. In a safe aboard his ship was a series of credentials, all proclaiming him the duke that he was. He had only to saunter into the nearest bank, present the papers to a pudgy-faced banker, and acquire a loan for as much blunt as he wanted . . . if only the safe had been watertight. Damian had opened the iron door to find his credentials washed clean away, the ink smeared all over the raggedy parchments.

And so, adrift in New York harbor with a badly leaking ship and torn sails and scant supplies, he'd headed into port to win his wealth, leaving behind his lieutenant with the order to sell the . . .

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