Growing up in a family where a weekly visit to the library was a given, Katie spent much of her time with her nose buried in a book. Since her editor refused to allow her to include either witty dialogue or love scenes in the software book, Katie swiftly resolved to switch to fiction, where she could indulge in world building, tormenting characters, and falling madly in love with all her heroes. Two years after she started writing novels, Katie sold her first romance, Noble Intentions. More than thirty books later, her novels have been translated into numerous languages, been recorded as audiobooks, received several awards, and are regulars on the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestseller lists. She also writes for the young adult audience as Katie Maxwell. Katie lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and dogs, and can often be found lurking around online.
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This time he intends to marry a quiet, biddable woman who will not draw attention to herself or cause scandal. It matters little that she is accident-prone; he can provide the structure necessary to guide her. But unconventional to the tips of her half-American toes, his new bride turns the tables on him, wreaking havoc on his orderly life. Perpetually one step behind his beguiling spouse, Noble suffers a banged-up head, a black eye, and a broken nose before he realizes Gillian has healed his soul and proven that their union is no heedless tumble, but the swoon of true love.
Read an Excerpt Gillian scratched at the rough neckcloth as she sat back against the uncomfortable squabs of the hired hack and peered out the grimy, flyspecked window at the darkened house beyond. It was a modest sized house of red brick, situated in a conservative, pleasant neighborhood. She frowned at the staid front of the house and nibbled on her lip. She took another look down the gently curved street. Did all mistresses live so well? I will have need of you again in a few minutes.
Holding tight to what remained of her quickly evaporating confidence, Gillian strode up the stairs with her stepson in tow, and wielded the knocker briskly. He raised one eyebrow in a youthful imitation of his father. Gillian bit back a smile and used the knocker again, rapping loudly against the white door. The sound echoed through the house. The door swung open. Gillian and Nick peered into the darkened hallway and listened.
There was no sound but a muffled thumping from somewhere upstairs. It was ridiculous to be afraid. She made herself relax the grip, and with a smile she felt far from meaning, stepped over the threshold.
To her right was a white staircase that presumably led upstairs, although all she could make out was a ghostly parade of steps dissolving into complete and utter blackness. She fought back a shiver, then froze as Nick suddenly dropped her hand and disappeared into the inky darkness. You have no idea what sort of…oh, thank you! Nick lit the tapers in another rack, then taking it in hand, he tipped his head toward the stairs and looked an obvious question to Gillian.
Gillian was touched by the gesture. She took a step forward and took his warm hand in hers. Well, come my valiant knight, shall we see what is making those thumping noises?
Gillian and Nick smiled at one another, but their smiles faded as the thumping seemed to gain a new energy. It was not, as she had hoped, a loose shutter banging in the wind.
There was clearly someone or something upstairs making the noise. The noise was definitely coming from a room to their right, assumedly a bedchamber. The muffled thumping sounds were louder, clearly originating in the room beyond the door. What was making the horrible thudding noise? A corpse, hanging from the rafters and swaying against the wall? A huge, unchained beast throwing itself around the room as it bit with slavering jaws at anything it sighted?
A deformed and mutilated person too hideous to be let out of the room, forced to drag his legless torso around his chamber prison by walking on his twisted and grotesque arms? Almost swooning at the thought of the horror to be found within the room, Gillian patted her pocket again, sent a quick glance at Nick standing several paces back, and holding the candle rack high, threw open the door.
It was terrible! It was heinous! It made her skin crawl with the sheer, unadulterated abomination of it all! It was her husband. Spread eagle. Shackled to the bedposts. And if the expression on his face was anything to go by, ready to kill the first person who came within reach. What on earth are you doing? Is this some sort of strange game you are playing? My aunt told me that some men enjoy such rough bed sport, but really husband, I had not thought it of you. Nick peered in the doorway, astonishment clearly writ on his young face.
She let her gaze wander over his bared form, looking for signs of injury. What happened? Oh, those villains! How could they do this to you? You poor, poor man, how you must have suffered! Of course, how cruel, how unthinking she was. She fought back a tear and gave her husband a reassuring nod, then turned her attention to the shackles around his ankles.
Gillian gave herself a moment or two to grieve the damage to that item, then turned her attention to admire his heavily muscled thighs and calves before another muffled protestation had her prodding the manacles. She considered the manner, eyes narrowing with concentration as she let her gaze wander over his torso, imagining his arms to his side.
She wondered briefly how many hand spans wide his chest was, and was just reaching out with the intention of satisfying that curiosity when another gargled and furious noise stopped her in mid-stretch. Noble banged his head against the headboard twice, and rolled his eyes at her. The spate of profanities that followed confirmed her earlier thoughts.
He was very angry. He was warm. Very warm. I was struck on the head when I entered the house. She jumped, her fingers still entwined in the soft hairs on his chest.
Noble gave another roar, this time of outraged pain. I do not recall giving you permission to leave! Nick held up a key and cocked a brow. Gillian shook her head slightly. When I give an order, it is to be carried out without question. Lord but she was pretty, even dressed in the ratty clothes of a boy. As a disguise, it was hopeless. Long tendrils of red hair fell out of a blue knit cap, and no man with eyes in his head could mistake the rounded feminine curves displayed by a tightly fitted black waistcoat and breeches.
The wave of heat flushing his cheeks was immediately cooled as if he had been dowsed with a bucket of snow. And you have disobeyed that order. There was no time like the present to begin her training. Would you agree with that statement?
Clearly she was overcome by his masterful use of imagery. Still silent, she nodded her head abruptly, then crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the short jacket up and throwing the gentle curve of her hips into relief against the wall behind her. Noble cleared his throat and continued. The breeches seemed to go on forever, stretching over lush, long thighs.
Noble thought briefly of the way her legs had wrapped around his hips and decided they were the same length, then dragged his mind back to the task at hand. Grimly Noble envisioned scenes of war, pestilence, and mutilation. Through me, you will gain control over your life and will no longer be subject to such unpleasant experiences as you have encountered since I have known you.
You are undisciplined, wife, but not beyond hope of redemption. She turned and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling the jacket up even higher. The breeches did nothing to hide the sweet outline of her derriere. In fact, Noble realized with a rising sense of panic, they enhanced it.
Not even the vision of his son clutched to her side could stop the memory of just how warm that backside had felt nestled against him intimately when he had woken that morning, nor how he had been possessed to waken his bride by means that would guarantee to keep a smile on her face all day. Two pairs of eyes leveled seriously upon him suddenly drove home the point that he was lecturing his wife while stretched out nude, manacled to a bed.
When you say chaos, do you refer to those little surprises which make life so very interesting? He doubted that she even knew she was touching him. He laid his head back and groaned.
He heard his wife gasp as she suddenly clutched his foot. The broken part. Instead he kept his voice calm and level and thought of the affects of the Bubonic Plague on the human body.
I believe the damage to your…part…is causing a delayed reaction. You cannot tell me that is right. Not now, when his head was throbbing, his arms were aching, and his foot was on fire. No other lady of my acquaintance would leap off a moving phaeton in order to comfort a thieving street urchin.
Start your review of Noble Intentions Noble, 1 Write a review Nov 05, Catherine rated it really liked it Recommended to Catherine by: AH Shelves: historical , romance , series , comedy , england , fluffy , read This book was a nice change from my usual fare. It was light, fluffy, and sweet and made me laugh. She, with the best of intentions, wreaks havoc in his perfect life. Noble has had a bad relationship in the past, so he tries to resist his feelings, but This book was a nice change from my usual fare. Gillian is determined to save Noble and his son and spends each day working toward that.