The Duke Gets Even


 
 
 
 
 
 
 Contents
 
 Cover
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Contents
 Chapter One
 Chapter Two
 Chapter Three
 Chapter Four
 Chapter Five
 Chapter Six
 Chapter Seven
 Chapter Eight
 Chapter Nine
 Chapter Ten
 Chapter Eleven
 Chapter Twelve
 Chapter Thirteen
 Chapter Fourteen
 Chapter Fifteen
 Chapter Sixteen
 Chapter Seventeen
 Chapter Eighteen
 Chapter Nineteen
 Chapter Twenty
 Chapter Twenty-One
 Chapter Twenty-Two
 Chapter Twenty-Three
 Chapter Twenty-Four
 Chapter Twenty-Five
 Epilogue
 Acknowledgments
 About the Author
 Also by Joanna Shupe
 Copyright
 About the Publisher
 
 
 
 
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 iv
 
 
 
 Guide
 
 Cover
 Contents
 Chapter One
 
 
 
 
 Dedication
 
 
 For my two girls, Sally and Claire,
 because they keep bugging me
 to dedicate another book to them.
 You’re welcome.
 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter One
 
 
 “The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”
 —Jacques-Yves Cousteau
 
 
 Off the coast of Newport, Rhode Island
 June 1895
 
 Mermaids existed.
 
 At least Andrew Talbot, the eighth Duke of Lockwood, was fairly certain of it. At the moment a creature with long limbs and
 red hair was most definitely splashing in the frothy waves near the beach. If not a mermaid then a naiad, perhaps.
 
 
 Though he hated the ocean, he’d come out after dark to swim in the chilly, murky water of the Atlantic, his body requiring
 the bloody exercise. He hadn’t expected to see anyone else. Who was out frolicking at this time of night, if not a mythical
 creature?
 
 
 Bare legs flashed in the surf. A shapely arm followed. He continued to tread water, unable to look away. Then a form rose up in the foam, and long red hair flipped backward. A woman. A naked woman. He was entranced.
 
 
 As if the moon pulled him toward her, he soon found himself in the surf, too. The water reached his waist, and he watched
 her tumble and roll in the waves, like a small child who’d been cooped up all day and finally had a taste of freedom.
 
 
 What did it feel like, such freedom?
 
 Lockwood had never experienced it, not truly. His life had been shaped and molded since birth. He was a line drawn on a family
 tree to future generations of the same. The weight of it all fell on his shoulders—the crumbling estates, the empty bank accounts,
 the judgment of long-dead ancestors—and there were days when he feared for his sanity. Not a soul would remember him, unless
 he was the one who failed.
 
 
 A terrible legacy, that.
 
 A splash snapped him out of his dark thoughts. Saint’s teeth, she was beautiful. In truth, he’d never seen a more captivating
 woman. The sight of her slim limbs, high breasts and incredible hair wound through him like vines, expanding and twisting,
 strangling him until he had no choice but to dive under the cool water.
 
 
 When he resurfaced, she was there, directly behind him.
 
 Long arms twined around his neck and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Bare flesh pressed soft and cool against his back. “About time you arrived,” her husky voice said in his ear, like a whisper of silk over his soul. 
 
 He shivered. The right thing to do would be to let her go. To put his hands up and acknowledge the mistake. His title as a
 gentleman demanded it.
 
 
 But he was tired of always doing the right thing.
 
 Couldn’t he act instead of think? Feel for once instead of strategize?
 
 Heavy breasts rubbed on his shoulder blades, and despite the cold water his cock responded, thickening and rising against
 her