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A WOMAN MADE FOR PLEASURE
by Michele Sinclair

Genre: Regency Period, England, Historical Romance

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“Charlie Wentworth, you will behave like a gentleman even if it has slipped your notice that I am no longer a child. You will remember your status and speak to me as a gentleman speaks to a lady.” Then remembering she had not expected to encounter any company, she pursed her lips and added, “Regardless of my state of dress.”

Feeling ridiculous, Chase stood speechless as he tried not to gape at the soft swells of her breasts. Her body may have matured, but the fire and energy of her youth remained. Chase wasn’t sure why, but he was glad Mildred Aldon retained the spirit he had once so admired. Not that she ever knew of his approval or was going to know of it now.

Puzzled by his silence, Millie moved the stool out of her way and took a step closer. Then suddenly it occurred to her that he must have thought she was right. It was a silent agreement of course, but when Charlie believed her to be wrong, he was quick to let her know. At least, he used to be quick to let her know.

No longer half hidden in the shadows, the moonlight illuminated Millie’s face and accentuated the purple hue of her eyes. Chase took a deep breath as he watched her face brighten. Something crossed her mind that pleased her immensely. The effect was mesmerizing. Millie would have to stop smiling or he would have to leave--and quick. He was already having a hard enough time reconciling this very attractive woman with his memories of a little girl who found trouble wherever she could.  

“Oh, forgive my outburst, Charlie. It is just that I am surprised to see you...here...in London. We did not think you could attend this Season.” Quiet filled the room, and she still could not make out his expression from the shadows. Millie took another step closer and unconsciously rested her hand on his sleeve. “I know Aimee will be very glad that you have returned. She has missed you enormously.”

He blinked, but the vision before him remained the same. Millie’s heart-shaped face was definitely no longer that of a child. Her finely etched cheekbones perfectly framed her large eyes. He drank in the deep dusty lavender pools sparkling with delight.  

Millie licked her lips. The man standing before her was not Charlie. Charlie Wentworth had been young when he entered the war. He had never been prone to laughing or smiling, but a hardness now outlined his aristocratic features that had not been there before. The years had changed him.

Amber and gold eyes stared down at her with an intense look that assaulted her senses. He exuded masculinity, and she could feel her pulse begin to race. Emotions churned inside her--ones she had never felt before. She looked down, unable to accept the idea it was Charlie Wentworth awakening her to such feelings…