Page 87 of Things Good Girls Don't Do (Rock Canyon, Idaho 1)

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LESS THAN A GENTLEMAN

By Kerrelyn Sparks

WHEN I FIND YOU

A TRUST NO ONE NOVEL

By Dixie Lee Brown

PLAYING THE FIELD

A DIAMONDS AND DUGOUTS NOVEL

By Jennifer Seasons

HOW TO MARRY A HIGHLANDER

By Katharine Ashe

An Excerpt from

LESS THAN A GENTLEMAN

by Kerrelyn Sparks

New York Times bestselling author Kerrelyn Sparks returns to romance during the Revolutionary War with the sequel to her debut historical novel, The Forbidden Lady.

Matthias gazed up the lattice to his balcony. As youngsters, he and his cousin had used the lattice to sneak out at night and go fishing. Of course the doors had not been bolted back then, but climbing down the lattice had seemed more exciting.

Matthias wasn’t sure the lattice would hold his weight now, but with Dottie’s restorative coursing through him, he felt eager to give it a jolly good try. Halfway up, a thin board cracked beneath his shoe. He shifted his weight and found another foothold. The last thing he wanted was to slip and tear Dottie’s stitches from his shoulder.

He swung his legs over the balcony railing and landed with a soft thud. How odd. His door was open. Of course, he reminded himself. Dottie had gone there to fetch his clothes. She must have opened the door to air out the room.

He slipped inside. Moonlight filtered into the room, glimmering off the white mosquito netting. He strolled over to the secretaire, then kicked off his shoes and dropped his breeches. When he draped the breeches on the back of the chair, he noticed something was already there, something thick. He ran his fingers over the folds of cotton. The scent of roses drifted up to his nose. His mother’s perfume. Why would she have left one of her gowns in his room?

Odd. He pulled off his stockings. He’d talk to his mother in the morning. For now, he simply wanted to sink into a mattress and forget about the war.

He unwrapped his neck cloth, then removed his shirt and undergarments. How could he forget the war when he had so much to do? Ferryboats to burn. Supplies to capture. He untied the bow from his hair and dropped the thin leather thong on the desk. And those two missing females. Where the hell could they be?

He strode to the bed and slipped under the netting. With a sigh of contentment, he stretched out between the clean cotton sheets.

The bed shifted.

He blinked, staring at the ghostly netting overhead. He hadn’t budged an inch. There was only one explanation.

Slowly, he turned his head and peered into the darkness beside him. The counterpane appeared lumpy, as if— He listened carefully. Yes, soft breathing.

He sat up. A soft moan emanated from the form beside him. Female. His heart started to pound, his body reacting instinctively. Good God, it had been too long since he . . .

What the hell? He drew his racing libido to a screeching halt. This had to be another one of his mother’s plots to force him to marry! Even Dottie was in on it. She had insisted he bathe and go to the Great House. Then they had locked up the house, so he would be forced to climb the lattice to his bedchamber. Straight into their trap.

He scrambled out of bed, batting at the mosquito netting that still covered him.

The female gasped and sat up. “Who’s there?”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. His mother’s scheme had worked perfectly. He was alone and naked with whomever she had chosen for his bride.

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