The Fine Art of Temptation
London-based artist Avery Cullen refuses to sell her late father’s art collection. But bold, brash Marcus Price will try everything to get her to reconsider. He even launches an all-out sexual siege on the lonely heiress in the gilded cage.
Securing the collection would be a coup for his auction house, but for Marcus, it would settle a lifelong score. He’s managed to keep his true motives hidden along with his family’s skeletons…and now he’s so close, he can taste success in Avery’s kiss. But after their torrid night of passion, is Marcus prepared for the outcome?
Avery in his arms…
The memory was all he could handle.
She got to him on so many levels. Him, the original user. The guy who’d used his unmistakable charm to fake his way to a pedigree no one questioned. He was immune to the vulnerable; he’d trained himself to be. Because Marcus Price never took his eye off the prize, and he was always prepared to work hard to get whatever he wanted.
You want Avery Cullen.
Sure, he wanted Avery. She was a goddess, with a body that promised untold sexual delight, yet she maintained an air of naivety, of untapped raw passion, that was enough to entice even the most jaded of souls.
But there was something he wanted even more.…
Dear Reader,
I was delighted to be invited to participate in The Highest Bidder continuity. The opportunity to work with authors I admire is something I like to grasp firmly whenever it is presented to me. While we’re always given the skeleton of our stories, and the continuity overview, seeing how everyone fleshed out their characters and cleverly wove the threads of the mysteries of the Gold Heart statue was fascinating.
In A Silken Seduction, Avery Cullen and Marcus Price are such different people. She’s gentle, shy and perhaps a little naive. He’s confident, determined and very, very aware of what he wants in life. She’s from old money, lots of it. He, most definitely, is not. Yet their attraction to one another is something neither can ignore.
Can their growing attraction for one another survive Marcus’s driving ambition, or will one of them pay the ultimate price and have their heart irrevocably broken? I do hope you enjoy finding out the answers as you delve into A Silken Seduction.
Happy reading,
Yvonne Lindsay
A Silken Seduction
Yvonne Lindsay
New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, YVONNE LINDSAY became an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now, married to her ‘blind date’ and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life.
She can be contacted via her website:
www.yvonnelindsay.com
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Special thanks and acknowledgment to Yvonne Lindsay for her contribution to The Highest Bidder miniseries.
To my fellow authors—Maureen, Charlene, Paula, Cat
and Barbara. It’s been a genuine pleasure, thank you.
And, to CG and JA—
working with you guys is always a delight.
Contents
One
“Miss Cullen is not taking visitors!”
Avery started at the outraged voice of her housekeeper—the action making her blotch a daub of the yew-green paint at the end of her brush. The sound of footsteps came swiftly on the ancient paved path behind her. She sighed and put the paintbrush down. On this overcast and suddenly autumnal London day she was already losing the light and, interruptions aside, the painting wasn’t going well anyway. If only passion for a subject made up for a lack of everything else, she thought as she reached for the linseed-oil-scented rag on the shelf of her easel and wiped her hands before turning to see what the fuss was about.
Her housekeeper usually had no trouble heading off visitors at the front door. The woman was fiercely protective of Avery and fully respected the younger woman’s wish for privacy. But it seemed someone had managed to cut past Mrs. Jackson’s normally effective defense. The man walking a clear yard ahead of the stout housekeeper had his eyes on only one thing. Avery.
Tall, with dark blond hair that, while short, managed to look like he’d just rolled out of bed, and a light beard that suggested he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, there was no doubt he was disreputably good-looking. There was also something vaguely familiar about him. No, surely not. She would have remembered meeting him before.