The Lady Tempts an Heir by Harper St. George
A fake engagement brings together a lady with bold and daring dreams, and the heir whose heart she captured—perfect for fans of Bridgerton!
Tall, dark, and brooding—to say that American Maxwell Crenshaw stood out in the glittering ballrooms of London is an understatement. He vowed never to set foot in England again, but when a summons from his father along with an ultimatum to secure his legacy has him crossing the Atlantic for the last time, reuniting him with the delectable Lady Helena March, he can’t deny the temptation she presents. Or the ideas she inspires…
Lady Helena March is flirting with scandal. Instead of spending her time at teas and balls in search of another husband, as is expected of a young widow, Helena pours her energy into The London Home for Young Women. But Society gives no quarter to unmarried radicals who associate with illegitimate children and fallen women, and Helena’s funding is almost run out. So when the sinfully seductive Crenshaw heir suggests a fake engagement to save them both—him from an unwanted marriage and her from scorn and financial ruin—Helena finds herself too fascinated to refuse the sexy American.
As their arrangement of convenience melts oh so deliciously into nights of passion, their deception starts to become real. But if Max knew the true reason Helena can never remarry, he wouldn’t look at her with such heat in his eyes. Or might the Crenshaw heir be willing to do whatever it takes to win the one woman he’s never been able to forget…
Praise for The Lady Tempts an Heir
“With sizzling chemistry, brilliant banter, and an unapologetically strong, feminist heroine, Harper St. George sets the pages ablaze!”—Christi Caldwell, USA Today bestselling author of Along Came a Lady“Harper St. George just gets better and better with every book, penning the kind of page-turning stories that you will want to read again as soon as you finish each one. Max and Helena are my new favorite couple in the series.”—Lyssa Kay Adams, author of Isn’t it Bromantic?
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Excerpt
She whirled around to face him. Her eyes were bright, but he couldn’t tell if she was angry or not. Into the silence, he said, “I won’t apologize for what I said.”
“I am not asking you to apologize.” She simply stared at him, searching his face.
He relaxed slightly. “Then I don’t understand . . .” His voice trailed off as light shimmered in her eyes, coalescing into twin swelling teardrops that wavered on her lower lashes, threatening to fall.
She blinked rapidly, turning away with a sound of frustration as she tried to hide the tears from him. He went to take a step forward, but his muscles seemed to freeze, momentarily paralyzed by the sight of her distress. “Helena,” he whispered.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” She held a hand out behind her to ward him off. The sight of her gloved fingers, long and slim, had him reaching out. The urge to touch her was too great. She gasped when he took her hand in his and looked back at the touch.
He was also entranced by the sight. Her hand was smaller than his, but it somehow fit perfectly tucked against his palm.
“I’ve upset you,” he said. She looked stricken, the lines of her face taut.
“No.” But it was a lie and they both knew it. Pressing her lips together for a moment, she said, “Well, yes, but not for the reason you think.”
Forcing a bit of levity, he said, “Then you’re not upset that Lady Ashcroft despises me?”
The hint of a smile tugged the corner of her lips. Her eyes were still brighter than normal, but there was no imminent threat of tears. She faced him again but had yet to pull her hand back. “No one has ever come to my defense as you did.”
“I find that difficult to believe.”
She gave a small shake of her head, and her grasp on his hand tightened. His body took it as an invitation, and he stepped closer, slowly narrowing the space between them. His eyes glued to their hands. “Believe it. To be fair, I don’t have a long history of rebellion. Not like August. I had my Season like any other girl, and by the end, I was betrothed to a man known to my family for years and beloved by them. I was never obstinate because there wasn’t a need.”
He barely heard her last sentence because he was stuck on the preceding one. “And was he beloved by you?” He had no right to ask her, but here he was overstepping for no reason other than his selfish need to know more about her.
She paused for a long time, drawing his gaze. He should call the question back, but he didn’t. Finally, she said, “Yes, I loved him.” There was a sadness in her eyes that tugged at his heart. “It was after his death that I began to question myself. I had spent my entire life doing everything that I thought I was supposed to do, but to what purpose? There I was still a widow before my time. My family urged me to remarry as soon as it was acceptable. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t understand until then that my only purpose in life was to be a wife and produce children . . . at least according to my family . . . to the world.”
“But that’s not your only purpose,” he said, his voice stronger than he intended.
“I know. It took me a while, but I know now. Being a wife and mother would be wonderful things, but they’re not the only things that matter to me.”
“You care about the orphans and the women under your protection.”
She nodded, smiling up at him. “Yes, I feel that I’ve finally found a place where I can make a real difference. These women become pregnant and often are almost immediately abandoned by the men responsible. All life is supposed to be sacred, but from the moment the life inside them begins to show, they are ostracized. Most of them lose their jobs, and sometimes their homes, because of it. They give birth in squalor. You wouldn’t believe some of the places I’ve seen.”
He probably wouldn’t. His life took him to the industrial parts of the city, to pubs and bars, and occasionally to the home of one of his workers, but never to the places she referenced. He knew that she had actually gone there herself. When she could have sent Ostler or some other person in her employ, she had gone herself to see with her own eyes these people she wanted to help. His admiration for her, already high, soared. “Why do you do that to yourself?”
“Because if I don’t, who will?” Shaking her head as if to clear it, she looked down at their still-clasped hands. “But that’s neither here nor there. I only meant to thank you. No one has ever deigned to support me publicly.”
“Helena.” His voice rasped against his throat. With his other hand, he touched her chin, resting it between his thumb and forefinger. She looked up at him, her eyes almost shy now that she had revealed so much to him. “I admire you more than you know. I will always champion you.”
She smiled again, and his thumb traced over the silk of her skin, touching the tiny little indentation at the bottom of her chin that was only barely visible. Then it moved upward, daring to touch the soft fullness of her bottom lip. She didn’t move. Her eyes darkened, dilating with passion, as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. He paused mere inches away, letting their breaths mingle, breathing her into him.
About the Author
She lives in the Atlanta area with her husband and two children. When not writing, she can be found devouring her husband's amazing cooking and reading. She would love to hear from you. Please visit her website at www.harperstgeorge.com. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads.
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The Lady Tempts an Heir
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