{"product_id":"three-nights-with-a-scoundrel-isbn-9780345518897","title":"Three Nights with a Scoundrel","description":"In Tessa Dare’s dazzling new trilogy, the men of the Stud Club live and play by their own rules—until passion changes the game.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003eThe bastard son of a nobleman, Julian Bellamy is now polished to perfection, enthralling the ton with wit and charm while clandestinely plotting to ruin the lords, ravish the ladies, and have the last laugh on a society that once spurned him. But after meeting Leo Chatwick, a decent man and founder of an elite gentlemen’s club, and Lily, Leo’s enchanting sister, Julian reconsiders his wild ways. And when Leo’s tragic murder demands that Julian hunt for justice, he vows to see the woman he secretly loves married to a man of her own class. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLily, however, has a very different husband in mind.  She’s loved Julian forever, adores the man beneath the rakish façade, and wants to savor the delicious attraction they share—as his wife. His insistence on marrying her off only reinforces her intent to prove that he is the only man for her. Obsessed with catching a killer, Julian sinks back to the gutters of his youth, forcing Lily to reach out with a sweet, reckless passion Julian can’t resist. Can her desire for a scoundrel save them both—or will dangerous secrets threaten more than their tender love?Tessa Dare a part-time librarian, full-time mommy, and swing-shift writer. She makes her home in Southern California, where she shares a cozy, cluttered bungalow with her husband, their two children, and a dog.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e London, October 1817\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Lily awoke to a rough shake on her arm. A searing ball of light hovered before her face.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She winced, and the light quickly receded. With caution, she opened her eyes. Blinking furiously, Lily strained to make out the lamp-bearer’s identity. It was Holling, the housekeeper.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Good Lord. She bolted upright in bed. Something dreadful had occurred. The servants would never shake her awake unless it was a matter of extreme urgency.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She pressed a hand to her throat. “What is it?”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Yellow lamplight illuminated an apologetic face. “Downstairs, my lady. You’re needed downstairs at once. Begging your pardon.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e With a nod of assent, Lily rose from bed. She shoved her toes into night-chilled slippers and accepted assistance in donning a violet silk wrap.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Her sense of dread only mounted as she descended the stairs. And the feeling was all too familiar.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Nearly five months had passed since the last time she’d been summoned downstairs in the dark. No one had needed to wake her then; she’d been unable to sleep for an insistent sense of foreboding. Her fears were confirmed when she opened the door to find gentlemen crowding her doorstep—three men with nothing in common save their membership in the Stud Club, an exclusive horse-breeding society her brother Leo had founded. They were the reclusive Duke of Morland, scarred war hero Rhys St. Maur, and Julian Bellamy—the London ton’s favorite hell-raiser and Leo’s closest friend.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e One look at their grave faces that night, and there’d been no need for words. Lily had known instantly what they’d come to tell her.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Leo was dead.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e At the age of eight-and-twenty, her twin brother was dead. Leo Chatwick, the Marquess of Harcliffe. Young, handsome, wealthy, universally admired—beaten to death in a Whitechapel alleyway, the victim of footpads.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e The last time she’d been summoned down these stairs at night, her existence had been torn in half.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Lily’s knees buckled as she reached the foot of the staircase. She clutched the banister for support, then drew a shaky breath as a footman waved her toward the door.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Holling thrust her lamp over the threshold. Gathering all her available bravery, Lily moved toward the door and peeked out.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e As there was no one on the doorstep, her view went straight to the square. The first gray insinuation of daylight hovered over the manicured hedges and paths. The streets were still largely empty, but here and there she saw servants on their way to market.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e At the housekeeper’s insistent gesturing, she looked down. There, on the pavement at the bottom of the steps, lodged a costermonger’s wheelbarrow. The wooden cart was heaped with carrots, turnips, vegetable marrows … and the body of an unconscious man.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She clutched the doorjamb. Oh, no.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e It was Julian Bellamy.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Lily recognized the red cuff of his coat before she even saw his face. She clapped a palm to her mouth, smothering a cry of alarm.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e There’d been one consolation in mourning Leo: the knowledge that she could never endure such a devastating loss again. He was her twin, her best friend from birth and, since their parents’ deaths, her only remaining close kin. She would never love anyone so dearly as she’d loved him. Once Leo had left this world … pain could not touch her now.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Or so she’d thought.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Staring down at Julian’s senseless form, it was hard to believe she’d ever felt this frantic. She sensed her throat emitting sounds—ugly, croaking sounds, she feared. But she couldn’t make herself stop. Even when Leo had died, Julian had been there to stand by her. Devilish rake he might be, he was her brother’s steadfast friend, and hers as well. Over the years, they’d come to think of him as family. If Julian left her …\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She would truly be alone.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e For the second time that morning, Holling gave her arm a shake. Lily looked to the housekeeper.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “He’s alive,” the older woman said. “Still breathing.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Tears of relief rushed past Lily’s defenses. “Bring him in.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e The footmen scrambled to obey, lifting his sprawled body from the wheelbarrow and hefting it up the steps.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “To the kitchen.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e They all filed down the narrow corridor, heading for the rear of the house. Holling first with her lamp, then the footmen bearing Julian. Lily brought up the rear as they descended the short flight of steps to the kitchen.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Even at this early hour, the kitchen staff was hard at work. A toasty fire warmed the room, and a yeasty aroma filled the air. A scullery maid lifted floury hands from the breadboard and stepped back in alarm, making room for the footmen to pass.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e They placed Julian by the hearth, propping his head on a sack of meal.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Send for the doctor,” she said. When no one sprang into action, she repeated herself at the top of her lungs. “Doctor. Now.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e With a hasty bow, one of the footmen hurried from the room.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Lily knelt at Julian’s side. Heavens, he was filthy. Dirt streaked his face, and the smell of the gutter clung to his clothes. She put a hand to his forehead, finding it clammy and cool to the touch. Perhaps he needed air. Her fingers flew to his cravat, and she tugged at it, unwinding the starched linen from his throat. A day’s growth of whiskers scraped her fingertips. She turned her cheek to his face, rejoicing at the warm puff of breath against her skin.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e He suddenly convulsed, as if coughing.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She ceased her tussle with his cravat and pulled back to stare at him, not wanting to miss any word he might speak.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e His eyes went in and out of focus as his gaze meandered over her form. “Hullo, Lily.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Relief washed through her. “Julian. Are you well?”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e He blinked several times, in rapid succession. Then again, slowly. Finally he said, “Violet always was your color.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e He slumped back, eyes closed.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Was he drunk? She leaned forward, sniffing cautiously at his exposed throat. No liquor. No gutter smells here, either. Just hints of starch and soap, mingled with the metallic, pungent odor of …\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Oh, God.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e She grabbed his arm, shook it hard. “Julian. Julian, wake up.”\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e When he failed to respond, she withdrew her trembling hand and looked down at it. \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Just as she’d feared. Her fingers came away wet with blood.\u003cbr\u003e  The third time is the charm.","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300873621733,"sku":"NP9780345518897","price":11.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345518897.jpg?v=1767742577","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/three-nights-with-a-scoundrel-isbn-9780345518897","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}