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The Worthington Wife

The Worthington Wife

Sharon Page sparkles in this poignant and irresistibly entertaining follow-up to her breakout novel, An American Duchess

Lady Julia Hazelton is the most dazzling among 1920s England’s bright, young things. But rather than choosing the thrill of wanton adventure like so many of her contemporaries, Julia shocks society with her bold business aspirations. Determined to usher the cursed Worthington estate into a prosperous, modern new era, and thus preserve her beloved late fiancé’s legacy, the willful Julia tackles her wildest, most unexpected adventure in Cal Carstairs, the reluctant new Earl of Worthington.

The unconventional American artist threatens everything Julia seeks to protect while stirring desires she thought had died in the war. For reasons of his own, Cal has designed the ultimate revenge. Rather than see the estate prosper, he intends to destroy it. But their impulsive marriage—one that secures Julia’s plans as well as Cal’s secrets—proves that passion is ambition’s greatest rival. Unless Cal ends his quest to satisfy his darkest vendetta, he stands to ruin his Worthington wife and all her glittering dreams.

Read an Excerpt

He was kissing her.

Cal’s large, strong hands skimmed lightly down her back, caressing her. His palms went lower, following the curve of her bottom through her jodhpurs. He cupped one hand there and used it to pull her close. Shock hit her. Shock that his hand felt good there—that she liked the pressure of him holding her tight to his firm, warm body. His tongue traced her lips in a caress that made sparks burst and cascade through her with a hot sizzle.

Then his tongue slipped between her lips.

Panicked, Julia pulled back. Ladies didn’t kiss like this. And they didn’t do it in the kitchen of someone else’s cottage. She’d needed to be held but she couldn’t do this. She gripped Cal’s arms, feeling hard muscle through the sleeves of his worn sweater. “No. Don’t. Please.”

He let her go. “It’s okay. We both needed comforting. Nothing more.”

Nothing more. Of course, he was a wild artist who had love affairs with his models. A kiss didn’t mean that much to him.