The Hunter (Victorian Rebels, #2)

by Kerrigan Byrne

Not just any woman, this woman. The most coveted female in the empire and several countries on the Continent. His woman.

He shut her door behind him, wondering to himself just what hour of the day she became less dangerous than him. He’d probably wake her then.

The kiss of a man who knew his sins and granted himself absolution. This was the kiss of a killer.

“Men like you and me, we don’t love like other men do. With patience and poetry and gentle deference. Our sort of love is possessive—obsessive even—and passionate and consuming and … well, fucking terrifying sometimes.”