The Soldier's Scoundrel (The Turner Series, #1)

by Cat Sebastian

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for this aspect of his injury–always having to talk about it, always having to act faintly apologetic when other people’s proposed cures failed to work.

Jack was dangerously close to being impressed with Rivington, but he supposed he’d get over it.

The sight of all those pointless urns and gilded picture frames almost made him nostalgic for the days of the guillotine—even

“God, are you that dim?” “Probably.” When it came to some things, definitely.

The richer the man, the more likely it was that he had gone to a school whose only purpose was to introduce him to other rich lads and make all of them unfit for the company of anyone but themselves.

Jack loved that he held the power to strip away that mask, to reduce this fine gentleman to embarrassed blushes or lusty incoherence. And unless he was mistaken, Oliver wanted that as much as Jack did.

all those worries scattered like spiders, retreating to the dark and safe corners of Jack’s mind.

All these secret touches were a sort of code, Jack thought. Like ships communicating by semaphore.