Igniting the Countess

With the shadow of scandal looming over her, the countess, Loraine Durant, had to stay away from Garth Evans. 

Loraine Durant, widowed Countess of Crawford, lives her life for her toddler son, the heir of the late count. But the world seems to go out of its axis when she lays eyes on the new breath-taking footman. She fights arduously the flaming attraction she feels for him, deeming it inappropriate, failing notoriously. With the shadow of scandal looming over her, she had to stay away from him. When she discovers he is much more than a servant, it is too late and he already hates her.

Garth Evans is the bastard son of a Marquis, trying to make his unprivileged way in the world and holding back from trouble with women. Being constantly in the presence of the Countess proves to be a hellish temptation and he can hardly keep his hands off her. After they part, he thinks she is as whimsical and frivolous as any other lady of her rank. Now, he hates her for all she represents. Wrenching passion threatens to break his resolve to keep her at arm's length, his desire for her about to burst at any moment.


Published: July 2016
Length: Category
Word Count: 54,965
Genre: Regency Historical Romance
Rating: Spicy/Erotic--Hot, Sizzling
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)



Igniting the Countess by Lisa Torquay

She could not take her eyes from him for the life of her. They were both silent and the enclosed space felt cramped, hotter.

An eternity passed, neither moved. She heard their breaths; he could surely hear her heart tambour-pounding as in a war. The world went still, so still. She perceived the heat of his body, his scent, and the blaze of his stare as her senses sharpened, primed. Overeager.

Time froze.

And then all was movement again. He leaned his whole body on her, grabbed her waist with one strong arm, flushed her to him, and his male lips descended on hers thirsty, coarse. His stubble bristled on her skin, her breasts pressed against his chest.

She moaned, desisting to oppose any token resistance because this was what she had wanted for a long time. She placed her hands on his strong chest as he feasted on her mouth. He licked her upper lip with such gusto, she almost melted at her core. He abandoned her poor upper lip to go to her lower lip and banqueted on it. He nibbled one corner, slid to the other corner and nibbled it, too. Starvation was all she could feel. She whimpered in sheer frustration. He had no mercy. He nibbled the pouting centre. She had no more shame in her. She snaked her arms around his neck, brought him even closer, demanding whatever he had in store for her. And she did not regret it. He opened her mouth with his and invaded her, full blast, inserting his whole tongue in her warm cavity without ceremony.  

God, why did he take so long? Her fingers dived in his sable hair, keeping him locked to her, as her tongue lapped at his with delicious abandon. He pressed her more against the wall, imprinting his hard as a rock erection on her belly, almost incinerating her. Her breasts plumped, fire coursed through her, pooling in her needy middle. His other warm hand closed on her nape and he deepened the kiss—if that was even possible. She opened more for him and in seconds they were devouring each other, voracious and mindless.

He did not spare her because she was a lady. He did not deny her because she was sheltered. He did not recoil because she stood above his rank. He treated her like a flesh-and-blood woman and that ignited her to explosion point. Completely given to the kiss, she rubbed against him as if this would placate her ache. It did not. If anything, it made her more desperate.