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London, 1817 Lieutenant Jonathan Rycroft is intoxicating. His hands know just where to touch her, his lips know just how to trip her pulse, and his body knows just how to bring about every forbidden desire Lindsay Dunsfield has ever felt. He’s the one man that’s owned her heart...and he shattered it two years ago. When one scorching kiss reignites the flames of their passion, Jonathan inadvertently drags Lindsay into a mire of murder and deception. In a world where Lindsay can trust no one, will she find renewed faith in the last place she expected to look?
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Lieutenant Jonathan Rycroft is intoxicating. His hands know just where to touch her, his lips know just how to trip her pulse, and his body knows just how to bring about every forbidden desire Lindsay Dunsfield has ever felt. He’s the one man that’s owned her heart… and he shattered it two years ago.
Returned to London on assignment with the War Office, Jonathan’s mission is hindered by a love he cannot forget. One scorching kiss reignites the flames of their passion, but he inadvertently drags Lindsay into a mire of murder and deception that hits closer to home than she ever would have dreamed.
In a world where Lindsay can trust no one, will she find renewed faith in the last place she expected to look?
"CONFESSIONS OF LOVE by Melissa Blue is an exciting Historical Romance set in 1817 London. "~ My Book Addiction and More MBA
I really enjoyed reading this book. It has both romance and intrigue, which I think is a great mix. Lindsay transforms through the story into a strong, courageous woman. That is unheard of in her era. Women were supposed to be meek and subservient. Men were supposed to be the strong, heroic types... ...more
CONFESSIONS OF LOVE by Melissa Blue is an exciting Historical Romance set in 1817 London. Fast paced with treason, treachery,lies, secrets, betrayal, passion and romance. Lieutenant Jonathan Rycroft,an agent for the War Office and Lindsey Dunsfield where friends and in love once but lies and dece... ...more
The Dunsfield Family are struggling to survive. They are in dire financial straits. Society is shunning them because Andrew, their son, died a traitor. Things are so bad that Lindsay is being sacrificed. She has to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather. Things become more complicated when... ...more
Confessions of Love has refreshed my faith in sweet historical romances that have a female sleuth in them. Too often they fall too far on the young adult side, but this one sat just right. The writing of the romance and the suspense was all at the same level which helped the story flow without a... ...more
Simply Stunning! I was provided this book for an honest review. If you love historical fiction and Regency Romance, you will not be disappointed with this book! Johnathan and Lindsey's chemistry crackles and sizzles! They are drawn together despite the tragic past they share! If you want action,... ...more
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3.72 avg Goodreads.com rating
About the author
Registered Nurse by night, Melissa battles the stresses of life and illness by enjoying uplifting tales of love and romance. A firm believer in true love united with an enduring fascination with history has prompted her pursuit of romance writing. She lives in beautiful Big Sky Country Montana with her husband and children.
An ornate grandfather clock chimed the half hour. Eleven thirty. Jonathan should be making his way to the maze, fulfilling his mission, but fate—or mayhap temptation—had him striding determinably in the exact opposite direction.
Ahead of him Lindsay dashed down the hall leading from the ballroom. Her heeled shoes tapped a frenzied rhythm on the marble floors, while wanton curls bounced haphazard around her head and bared shoulders. One would think the devil himself chased after the poor girl. Surreptitiously he followed her around a corner and down another hall, curious as to her hasty departure.
A clandestine tryst perhaps?
An ugly flare of jealousy sprang to life. He’d kill any man who so much as looked at her cross-eyed. Lindsay was his, always had been, and she was about to learn the full measure of his resolve. She paused at a side door, opened it a crack, and peered in. He held back until she disappeared inside.
Slowly he strode toward the door, heart hammering, fervently hoping she’d be alone. For three long years, he’d imagined the moment he would speak to her again…what he would say…Lindsay throwing herself into his arms… A vivid play of ravishing her thereafter.
In truth, he hadn’t known what it was to love her until she’d slipped from his grasp. Shortly after Andrew’s death, her father, Robin Dunsfield, had sent Jonathan a letter making it abundantly clear that he’d shoot Jonathan on sight if he came within fifty feet of Lindsay ever again. Thankfully Old Robin—as he was known amongst the thriving circle of thieves and reprobates—was not in attendance tonight. No one held a grudge like Old Robin.
Jonathan stalled in the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, content simply to drink her in.
The clock rewound. Swept him back to the last time he’d seen her, kissed her good-bye…
“Take care of my brother, Jonathan.”
The words rang through his mind as clearly as if she’d just spoken them aloud. Guilt slammed him full in the chest. If only life proved so simple. In this moment he had no idea how Lindsay would react to him. He’d sent her dozens of letters over the years and never once received a response. Hell, he didn’t even know if she’d gotten the missives. For all he knew Old Robin intercepted and burned every last note.
Lindsay stood with her back to him in the center of the empty room. She rubbed her neck and sighed. “You can do this, Lindsay, be strong.” He sensed the pain and weight of the world in those words.
Startled, she spun, mossy brown-green eyes growing wide with shock. “My God,” she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Jonathan.”
He shoved away from the door frame and advanced on her slowly. “So it would seem.”
She stumbled back, putting the distance of the room between them. Jonathan’s spirits plummeted. This was hardly the welcome he’d fantasized about.
“Wha-what are you doing here?” Her gaze darted about the dim room, looking anywhere but directly into his eyes.
“Some extremely troubling news has come to my attention. Just tonight, I learned that you’re engaged to Lord Harold Grimsby.” He stopped a few feet from her.
She lifted her chin, porcelain features a guise of cool disregard. “I don’t see what concern that is of yours, Lieutenant Rycroft. Now if you’ll excuse me I must return to the party before I’m missed.”
Lieutenant Rycroft, indeed… Jonathan stepped close, anger vibrating through him, blocking her exit. “The man is old enough to be your grandfather, Lindsay. You cannot marry him.”
“Excuse me?” She bristled. “It is no concern of yours who I marry. Now get out of my sight. I have no wish to see you.”
She swept past him toward the door, but Jonathan snared her about the waist, spinning her lithe form into his arms, trapping her against the wall and the unyielding contour of his frame. “That is damned unfair to me, Lindsay. Damned unfair.”
Lindsay’s heavenly eyes, flecked with raw pain and betrayal, danced over his face…searching. “Why are you here, Jonathan?”
Arms barred on either side of her, he leaned so close she had no choice but to look directly into his eyes. Pure heat and passion smoldered in the depths of her gaze. “You.” The word fell heavy in the room, a benediction as much as a promise. His gaze raked down the column of her throat to the gentle swell of her breasts barely concealed by the soft pink fabric of her bodice. His fingers itched to trace those little cloth pleats. “It’s always been you. I had to see you, Lindsay.”
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“Did you get my letters?” He ignored her protests and the urge to inch his thumbs along her waist. Apparently, he’d returned just in time.
Lindsay gulped and nervously averted her eyes. “No. Now leave.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Lindsay. Always have been.”
She shrugged, meeting his gaze. “At least when it comes to you.”
He smirked, knowing he was gaining ground. “Please, Lindsay, talk to me. Give me a chance to explain about Andrew.” She must be angry about her brother. It was the only explanation for such hostility.
“There is nothing for you to explain.” Lindsay ducked nimbly beneath his arm, skirting the wall toward the door.
Or perhaps he’d gained nothing. “Linds, wait, don’t go.” He grasped her wrist, spinning her back to face him yet again. “At least hear me out.”
“I will hear none of your lies, Jonathan.” She jerked against his iron grip, shards of green fire flashing in her eyes.
“Lies? What lies?”
“You left my brother to die suspected of treason. Now my sisters and I can scarcely show our faces in society.”
Shock and bewilderment seared him. “That is not true. Where did you hear that?”
“It is true! You ruined my family. You ruined my life.” Her voice broke on a single heart-wrenching sob. She turned those enormous, beautiful eyes to his. “I hate you, Jonathan Rycroft. Let me go!”
I hate you. The words ripped through him. He grasped her upper arms and flattened her roughly against the wall.
Lindsay gasped, her palms falling against the broad expanse of his chest.
“But you loved me once.” He caught her face in his hands, lacing thick fingers through the silken roots of her hair, smoothing his thumbs across those creamy cheeks. He leaned close, close enough to smell the powdery scent of her manicured tresses and feel the warm gusts of her breath against his lips. “Perhaps you just need a little reminding.” Without another word his mouth covered hers.
At first Lindsay resisted…refused to kiss him back, but he persisted. She hates me? Well hate and passion treaded a hair-thin line… He would show her just how close the two were and beat back her stubborn resolve. Finally she relented, tentatively parting her lips. He took full advantage, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She tasted so good. Perfectly sweet. Jonathan groaned, pressing into her. Lindsay was tall, lithe, and her hips fitted perfectly against his. She swayed, finally slipping her arms around his shoulders and he sensed the full measure of her surrender. Jonathan slid an arm about her waist, cradling her against him, relishing her weight in his arms.
His lips dragged down the warm curve of her graceful neck. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her throat, burying a hand in the depth of her hair. “Don’t announce your engagement. Marry me instead.