{"product_id":"dangerous-to-love-isbn-9780553567878","title":"Dangerous to Love","description":"Dangerous. Wild. Reckless.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThose were the words that passed through Serna Ward’s mind at the moment Julian Raynor entered the gaming Hall. If anyone could penetrate Serena’s disguise as a tart–and jeopardize the political fugitives she was delivering to freedom–it would surely be London’s most notorious gamester. Yet when the militia storms the establishment in search of traitors, Raynor provides just the pretext Serna needs to escape to an upstairs bedroom. But Serena is playing with fire...and before the night is through she will find herself surrendering to the heat of unsuspected desires.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSeductive. Fiery. Treacherous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe had used him for her own scheming purposes, then thrown his generous proposition back in his face. Julian Raynor, a man who had ruthlessly enjoyed his share of women, did not much care to have the tables turned on him. And when he discovered that the passionate beauty who had played his wonton prisoner in bed was none other than Serena Ward, the proud daughter of his bitterest enemy, he saw his chance for revenge–not only on the man who had single-handedly destroyed his family but on the woman who haunted his dreams.Elizabeth Thornton was born and educated in Aberdeen, Scotland, where she taught school for a number of years.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe is the author of five Regency Romances and fifteen historical romances. She has been nominated for and received many awards including the \u003ci\u003eRomantic Times\u003c\/i\u003e Trophy Award for the best New Historical Regency Author and Best Historical Regency. Her books have appeared on best-selling lists and have been translated into many languages.\u003ci\u003eChapter One\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe first time Serena saw him, she knew there was going to be trouble. He had that look. It was the sudden stillness that alerted her to his presence. She looked up from the cards Flynn had just dealt her and became aware of a silent, menacing figure in the open doorway. One hand rested casually on the hilt of his smallsword, and even in that dim light, she could see the distinct challenge in his eyes as they scanned the various tables in the tavern's crowded, smoke-filled common room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDangerous. Reckless. Wild. \u003c\/i\u003eThose were the words that passed through \u003cbr\u003eSerena's mind. When his glance fell on her, taking in her filmy costume, lingering on her artfully painted face framed with soot-black curls, and the wide expanse of white bosom, especially the wide expanse of white bosom, her fingers itched to reach for her cape to cover herself. She had no idea why his interest should fix on her. In relation to some of the other \"ladies\" who were present that evening, she was hardly worth a second stare. Nothing too much, nothing too obvious—that was the rule she and Flynn followed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRemembering the role she was playing, she smiled at him vaguely and \u003cbr\u003edrew Flynn's attention to the stranger by fingering the black silk \u003cbr\u003epatch at the corner of her mouth, her signal to be on the alert. Then \u003cbr\u003ethe stranger's eyes passed over her, and calling for a tankard of \u003cbr\u003eale, he found a place for himself at a table against the wall. Only \u003cbr\u003ethen did the hum of conversation resume.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSerena darted a quick, questioning look at Flynn. It was one of the \u003cbr\u003eother players, however, a resident performer at Drury Lane, who \u003cbr\u003eanswered Serena's pointed look. Cassie, in Serena's opinion, \u003ci\u003ewas \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eworth a second stare. The girl's looks were dramatic, and her tightly \u003cbr\u003elaced hooped gown of crimson damask set off her supple curves to \u003cbr\u003eadmiration. Serena had left off her hoops this evening, knowing that \u003cbr\u003ethey would only get in the way once she and Flynn embarked on their \u003cbr\u003emission.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Julian Raynor,\" whispered Cassie, her eyes fairly devouring the \u003cbr\u003egentleman in question, \"you know, the gamester. Oh Lud, he's looking \u003cbr\u003eour way,\" and she slanted Raynor a flirtatious look that was half \u003cbr\u003echallenging, half mischievous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCassie's partner, a young actor, let out an impatient sigh. \"Ladies, \u003cbr\u003emay I remind you that a card game is in progress? I suggest you mind \u003cbr\u003eyour cards.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And I second that suggestion,\" said Flynn, giving Serena a very straight look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was hard to concentrate on the game of whist that was in progress \u003cbr\u003ewhen the name of London's most notorious gamester was reverberating \u003cbr\u003einside her head. Somehow Serena managed to contribute to the lively \u003cbr\u003econversation that went on about her, as well as play her cards \u003cbr\u003ewithout drawing attention to herself. But behind her smiles and \u003cbr\u003ecarefully untroubled expression, her mind was hard at work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat she could not fathom was why Raynor would deign to visit a \u003cbr\u003eramshackle place like this one. The Thatched Tavern was not, by any \u003cbr\u003emeans, a hovel, but it was no palace either. Its patrons were a \u003cbr\u003emotley lot, ranging from the upper echelons of household servants to \u003cbr\u003ethe odd student as well as a plethora of theater people from nearby \u003cbr\u003eDrury Lane. As for the gambling, it was desultory, and rarely for \u003cbr\u003ehigh stakes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor their purposes, the tavern was an ideal rendezvous. There was \u003cbr\u003emuch coming and going. Neither Flynn's untutored tongue nor her \u003cbr\u003ecultured accents would rouse anyone's suspicions. Flynn was, in \u003cbr\u003eactual fact, a footman. She was passing herself off as an actress, or \u003cbr\u003ean aspiring actress to be precise. The most compelling reason for \u003cbr\u003echoosing The Thatched Tavern for their rendezvous, however, was \u003cbr\u003ebecause it sat above a secret Roman drain which led to a labyrinth of \u003cbr\u003eunderground passages. Flynn knew these underground passages like the \u003cbr\u003eback of his hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRaynor's setting was far different from this. He was a professional \u003cbr\u003egambler, and kept a gaming house, a magnificent place just off Fleet \u003cbr\u003eStreet where, it was rumored, fortunes were won and lost every night \u003cbr\u003eon the turn of a card. The patrons of his establishment, among them \u003cbr\u003eher own brothers, were drawn from the wealthy upper classes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRaynor was so out of place here that Serena's  mind worried at it \u003cbr\u003elike a dog with a bone. She had good reason to be worried. At any \u003cbr\u003emoment, their \"passenger\" would be delivered, and it was their job to \u003cbr\u003etransport him to a safe house, close to the docks, where her younger \u003cbr\u003ebrother, Clive, was waiting for them. At first light, weather \u003cbr\u003epermitting, their \"passenger\" would be aboard ship taking sail for \u003cbr\u003eFrance and freedom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat thought put her in mind of something else she remembered about \u003cbr\u003eJulian Raynor, or Major Raynor as he was generally known. The man was \u003cbr\u003ecredited with being something of a war hero. His daring exploits at \u003cbr\u003ePrestonpans were almost legendary. Some said that if there had been \u003cbr\u003emore like him on the field that day, government forces would have \u003cbr\u003ecrushed the Rebellion that much sooner, and there would have been a \u003cbr\u003eCulloden.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe was an enemy of the Rebellion, and that made him her enemy too. If \u003cbr\u003ehe once got wind of their real purpose in being here this evening, it \u003cbr\u003ecould prove catastrophic not only for their \"passenger,\" but for \u003cbr\u003eClive, Flynn, and herself also. Aiding and abetting Jacobite \u003cbr\u003efugitives was still a capital offense.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor a fleeting moment, Stephen's face swam before her eyes. The \u003cbr\u003ethought of Prestonpans, where Raynor had won such glory for himself, \u003cbr\u003enever failed to revive the old memories, the old ache. At Prestonpans, Stephen had cruelly perished, and all her dreams with him. It was entirely possible that it was Raynor's hand that had cut down her betrothed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo good could be served by perpetuating the old hatreds. She \u003cbr\u003eunderstood this. She accepted that the Cause was lost. But so long as \u003cbr\u003ethe authorities hunted down Jacobite fugitives as if they were \u003cbr\u003evermin, there was still something to fight for. Her own father was \u003cbr\u003eone of the lucky ones. When the Rebellion failed, he had managed to \u003cbr\u003eescape to France, where he now languished. Until amnesty was offered \u003cbr\u003eto all Jacobites with a price on their heads, their escape route must \u003cbr\u003eremain open.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom the corner of her eye, she saw Raynor adjust the angle of his \u003cbr\u003echair, as though to get a better view of her table. Why was he here? \u003cbr\u003eWhat was he doing watching their table? She fervently hoped that it \u003cbr\u003ewas Cassie who had caught his eye, and not herself or Flynn. Cassie \u003cbr\u003emight have been playing to the gallery, so animated were her \u003cbr\u003eexpressions and gestures. Evidently, she was playing up to Raynor, \u003cbr\u003ehoping to attract his interest. Flynn, on the other hand, looked \u003cbr\u003eperfectly unremarkable. In his powdered toupee and wire-rimmed \u003cbr\u003espectacles, he had aged ten years. No one would have taken him for \u003cbr\u003ethe flamboyant young chairman who was forever getting into fisticuffs \u003cbr\u003ewith other chairman when their sedans got in his way. Her own getup \u003cbr\u003ewas equally deceiving. According to Flynn, the black wash in her hair \u003cbr\u003eand the powder and paint had completely transformed her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf they were caught, their safest course lay in sticking as closely \u003cbr\u003eto the truth as they dared. It was not unknown for ladies of fashion \u003cbr\u003eto risk their reputations in their search for novelty and amusement. \u003cbr\u003eHer presence here might cause a brief scandal, nothing more. The real \u003cbr\u003edanger lay when she and Flynn were in possession of their \"passenger.\" The sooner he was delivered, the better it would be for all concerned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eApart from Raynor's presence, things were going according to plan. \u003cbr\u003eWith a quick, meaningful glance in Flynn's direction, touching her \u003cbr\u003elittle finger to the curl on her brow, she signaled that it was time \u003cbr\u003eto move on. The next hand must be their last.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was her turn to deal. There was a time when she would have invented any pretext to avoid this chore. She'd had a year of nights in places like this one to hone her skills. Flexing her fingers, she skillfully sliced and cut the cards, then quickly dealt each player a hand. Her eyes lifted without volition, and were caught and held by Raynor's inflexible stare.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fine hairs on the back of Serena's neck rose in foreboding. Oh \u003cbr\u003eGod, she knew when she first saw him that there was going to be trouble. Swallowing, dragging her eyes away, she threw out her first card.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe played as if her life depended on it, not because she wanted to \u003cbr\u003ewin, but because she couldn't help herself, not when Raynor's gaze \u003cbr\u003ewas fixed on her, and she was sure, now, that she was the one he had \u003cbr\u003esingled out. Winning, in this company, was easy. It was losing that \u003cbr\u003etook all her powers of concentration. When she took every trick, \u003cbr\u003eFlynn slanted her a warning frown. She knew what that signified. The \u003cbr\u003elast thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves, and there \u003cbr\u003ewould be plenty of attention if she was suspected of being a \u003cbr\u003ecardsharp. Win a few, lose a few, that was the strategy they \u003cbr\u003efollowed. It wasn't as though the card-playing were essential. It was \u003cbr\u003ea means of fitting in with the crowd until their \"passenger\" should \u003cbr\u003earrive. By sheer force of will, she managed to lose the last two \u003cbr\u003etricks. Then the game was over, and as Cassie and her young actor \u003cbr\u003ebecame involved in a heated lovers' tiff, she and Flynn pocketed \u003cbr\u003etheir winnings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBy this time, alarm was pumping blood to every pulse point in her \u003cbr\u003ebody. Flynn recognized her tension and managed a quiet, \"What is it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was nothing. It was everything. It was Julian Raynor. She shook her head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe was aware of the door opening to admit a newcomer, aware of the \u003cbr\u003eleather-bound volume the young man clutched to his bosom; she was \u003cbr\u003eaware of Flynn idling his way to the door to engage the newcomer in \u003cbr\u003econversation; but most of all she was excruciatingly aware of Julian \u003cbr\u003eRaynor rising and beckoning with one finger, summoning her to his \u003cbr\u003etable.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThough her temper flared at the arrogant gesture, she was in no \u003cbr\u003eposition to antagonize him. She picked up her feathered cape and \u003cbr\u003eslowly sauntered over.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Sit down.\" He indicated the empty chair he was holding. His voice \u003cbr\u003ecarried a note of amused interest. His look was one he might have \u003cbr\u003ebestowed on a piece of prime horseflesh he was intending to purchase.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThrough the sweep of her blackened lashes, Serena made her own \u003cbr\u003eappraisal. He was tall, too tall for her comfort. His dark hair was \u003cbr\u003elightly powdered and tied in back with a ribbon. The lace at his \u003cbr\u003ethroat and wrists, though of the best quality, was not lavish. His \u003cbr\u003eblue silk coat, embroidered at the edges and on the great turn-back \u003cbr\u003ecuffs with silver thread, hugged his broad shoulders. He wasn't \u003cbr\u003ehandsome as her brothers, Jeremy and Clive, were handsome. This man's \u003cbr\u003elooks were too harsh. Some might have called him the epitome of \u003cbr\u003eelegance. Serena could find no fault with his appearance. What she \u003cbr\u003emistrusted was the glitter of some nameless masculine emotion in \u003cbr\u003ethose silver-gray eyes. It made her skin prickle. As for his manners, \u003cbr\u003ethey verged on the insolent. More than ever, she was convinced that \u003cbr\u003eher first impression of Julian Raynor was correct.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was then that Serena remembered something else she had heard about \u003cbr\u003eJulian Raynor. There were rumors of duels, and women, scores of \u003cbr\u003ewomen, and debauchery on a scale she could not imagine. She could \u003cbr\u003ewell believe it. This man was dangerous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis was not the time to put him in his place. The situation called \u003cbr\u003efor tact and caution, though neither were her strong points.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Major Raynor, is it not?\" she said, and smiled pleasantly. \"You do \u003cbr\u003eme too much honor, sir.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe glanced idly over her shoulder, hoping to summon Cassie to her. \u003cbr\u003eOne quick look told her that her newfound \"friend\" was leaving the \u003cbr\u003etavern in high dudgeon. Swallowing a sigh, Serena turned to face the \u003cbr\u003eenemy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne dark brow was lifted in cynical mockery. \"You had me fooled for a \u003cbr\u003etime there, ma'am, but now I am on to you,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer mind reeling with the shock of his words, Serena slowly sank into \u003cbr\u003ethe chair he held for her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"First, allow me to say that you play remarkable well for an \u003cbr\u003eamateur.\" He bowed over her hand, then seated himself on the other \u003cbr\u003eside of the table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Thank you,\" she answered numbly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"But cards are not precisely your game, are they?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe dropped her lashes to conceal the stark terror his words had \u003cbr\u003eevoked. \"I don't know what you mean.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I think you do. I think you knew, or guessed, that I wouldn't be \u003cbr\u003eable to take my eyes off you if I suspected you were a cheat. And it \u003cbr\u003eworked.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Cheat?\" repeated Serena carefully. The word she was in terror of \u003cbr\u003ehearing was \u003ci\u003etraitor\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe leaned forward, and she caught the gleam of laughter in his eyes. \u003cbr\u003e\"Your ploy succeeded, as you can see. Shall we drink to the occasion?\" Signaling to one of the serving wenches, he ordered a bottle of claret.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was becoming clear to Serena that Julian Raynor had no idea of her \u003cbr\u003ereal reason for being here. Her alarm abating a little, she steered \u003cbr\u003eher eyes casually in Flynn's direction and noted that he had drawn \u003cbr\u003etheir \"passenger\" into the shadows while he waited for her to join \u003cbr\u003ethem.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe could well imagine what was going through Flynn's mind. He would \u003cbr\u003ebe cursing her for endangering herself by even being here this \u003cbr\u003eevening. They never could see eye to eye on this. Flynn regarded \u003cbr\u003eSerena's part in their mission as unnecessary, and he would have \u003cbr\u003epreferred to handle things by himself. This Serena would not allow \u003cbr\u003esince she knew Flynn's heart wasn't in it. He was involved because \u003cbr\u003eshe was involved. It would be unscrupulous to let him take all the \u003cbr\u003erisks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer eyes returned to Raynor. Though he was relaxed and smiling, her \u003cbr\u003efirst impression of him lingered, and she decided on instinct not to \u003cbr\u003eprovoke him by refusing to drink the wine he was pouring out for her. \u003cbr\u003e\"I wasn't cheating,\" she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh, I know that now. Haven't I just said so?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"But . . . what made you think that I was?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The beauty patch, the little curl on your brow, and the way you \u003cbr\u003efingered them. These are the props and methods of the rank novice.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFlynn would have said that she was indulging a vulgar taste for \u003cbr\u003emelodrama. He had no use for the signals she had invented, and so he \u003cbr\u003ehad told her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn spite of her uneasiness, she managed an arch smile. \"Perhaps I was \u003cbr\u003edistracted?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And perhaps you are a very clever woman.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes smiled into hers as if, thought Serena, they shared a secret \u003cbr\u003ejoke. Not wanting to pursue this dangerous subject, promising herself \u003cbr\u003ethat from now on she would listen to Flynn, she raised her glass to \u003cbr\u003eher lips. \"What is the occasion we are drinking to?\" she asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis eyes teased her wickedly. \"To our better acquaintance,\" he said, \u003cbr\u003e\"Miss . . . what is your name, by the by?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe had her answer ready. \"Victoria,\" she said at once. It was a name \u003cbr\u003eshe had always liked, even as a child, and one that she thought was \u003cbr\u003emore appropriate to her nature than the insipid. \"Victoria \u003cbr\u003eNoble. An actress by profession,\" she threw in casually, trying to \u003cbr\u003eestablish the role she had adopted.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"An actress? Where are you playing?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe was prepared for this question. Her little mouth trembled, and \u003cbr\u003eher eyes slid away before lifting to look deeply into his. \"An actress of sorts is what I should have said. You know how it is.\" Her shrug was eloquent. \"There are more actresses than there are parts to be had.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Say no more, Miss Noble. I understand your position perfectly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA ripple of unease ran up her spine. She knew an innuendo when she \u003cbr\u003eheard one. Did he perhaps know more than she suspected? Then why was \u003cbr\u003ehe smiling at her and not calling for a magistrate?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnder cover of drinking her wine, she sent her gaze in search of \u003cbr\u003eFlynn. There was no sign of him or their \"passenger.\" This was \u003cbr\u003eserious. Flynn would not leave her unprotected unless an emergency \u003cbr\u003eforced him to. In spite of her fear of Raynor, it was time to decamp.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe set down her glass and made a move to rise. \"The hour grows \u003cbr\u003elate,\" she said, \"and\"—she stifled a yawn behind her hand—\"alas, I \u003cbr\u003eam excessively fatigued.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLaughing, with the swiftness of a striking cobra, he had her by the \u003cbr\u003ewrist. \"I like an eager wench. But sweet, allow me a little time to \u003cbr\u003eset the stage.\" To her blank look, he elaborated. \"I have yet to \u003cbr\u003ebespeak a room for us. Drink your wine. This won't take a moment.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A . . . bespeak a room for us?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If not here, somewhere else. Oh, did you think that I would take you \u003cbr\u003eto my gaming house? Hardly. I have to live there, and I should prefer \u003cbr\u003ea little more privacy.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen his meaning finally became clear to her, she did not know \u003cbr\u003ewhether she wanted to stamp her foot and spit on him, or dissolve in \u003cbr\u003ea fit of the giggles. That Julian Raynor, a rake of the first magnitude, should have mistaken the daughter of Sir Robert Ward for a common doxy! It was hilarious. It was outrageous. She must be a better actress than she knew.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe watched him go with supreme complacency. As soon as the doors had \u003cbr\u003eclosed upon him, she was on her feet, reaching for her feathered cape. Disregarding the protests of the waiters and serving girls, Serena entered the kitchens. As she advanced toward the door she took to be the back exit, it opened, and several uniformed militiamen pushed into the tavern. She heard the word \u003ci\u003eJacobite\u003c\/i\u003e and did an about-turn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer heart was beating so furiously, she could hardly catch her \u003cbr\u003ebreath. In all the confusion of thoughts that raced through her \u003cbr\u003ebrain, one stood out starkly. They had been betrayed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eForcing the hysteria to recede, she tried to take stock of the \u003cbr\u003esituation. Flynn must have heard or seen something while she was in \u003cbr\u003econversation with Julian Raynor. They had always known that the most \u003cbr\u003eperilous part of their mission was when they collected their \u003cbr\u003e\"passenger.\" Once they went underground, as Flynn would have it, no \u003cbr\u003eone would find them in that labyrinth. Praying that Flynn had not \u003cbr\u003edelayed on her account, she pushed through the door to the front \u003cbr\u003eentrance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom here, she could see the lanterns outside, and beneath them, a \u003cbr\u003edetail of militia assembling on the pavement. Her eyes flicked to the \u003cbr\u003estaircase. When an arm circled her waist, she cried out in panic.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It's only me. Who were you expecting?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was Raynor's voice, laced, as always, with that intolerable \u003cbr\u003emasculine amusement. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone try \u003cbr\u003eto leave the tavern only to be turned back by one of the militia. She \u003cbr\u003ecould take her chances with the militia, or she could take her \u003cbr\u003echances with Julian Raynor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe looked up at him, her eyes wide and unfaltering. He was a \u003cbr\u003egamester, but that did not mean he was an unprincipled rogue. \u003cbr\u003eAccording to her brother Jeremy, Raynor was one of the best. Stifling \u003cbr\u003eher misgivings, with one eye on His Majesty's militia, she allowed \u003cbr\u003eRaynor to lead her to the staircase.","brand":"Bantam","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304756695269,"sku":"NP9780553567878","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553567878.jpg?v=1767724468","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dangerous-to-love-isbn-9780553567878","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}