THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL: A Christmas Fiery Tale Novella (Fiery Tales Series)

(Fiery Tales Series)

AWAKENED BY A KISS

THE PRINCESS IN HIS BED

A MIDNIGHT DANCE

UNDONE

THE DUKE’S MATCH GIRL

“
A heartwarming ever after wrapped in a smoldering, erotically stimulating bow.” — Romancing Rakes for the Love of Romance

“
This is one of the best Historical Romances I have read…And the love scenes....a-ma-zing!” — Bitten by Love Reviews

“
Fun, spicy… Sure to delight!” — Jennifer Ashley,
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author

“Wickedly passionate… [A] sensual treat!” — Sylvia Day, #1
New York Times
bestselling author

“Hot enough to warm the coldest winter night.” —
Publishers Weekly

“Strong-minded heroines you can relate to, breathtaking carnally gifted male leads.” —
Fresh Fiction

“Lushly erotic…and deeply romantic.” — Elizabeth Hoyt,
New York Times
bestselling author

“The most luscious, sexy take on classic fairy tales I’ve ever read!” — Cheryl Holt,
New York Times
bestselling author

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Lila DiPasqua

Cover design by Lila DiPasqua and Bruno DiPasqua

Edited by Linda Ingmanson

Formatted by Jessica Lewis, Author’s Life Saver

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

ISBN: 978-0-9880350-3-4 (trade pbk)

ISBN: 978-0-9880350-2-7(e-book)

DO YOU KNOW WHEN
fairy tales were born?

It was not so long ago. During the reign of King Louis XIV.

His court was as decadent as it was opulent. A time of high culture, elegance, and excesses. The pursuit of sinful pleasures was a pastime. Sex, an art form. You see, Louis was a lusty king. He and his courtiers were connoisseurs of the carnal arts.

It was during this wickedly wonderful time that author Charles Perrault (creator of
The Tales of Mother Goose
) first began writing down fairy tales—the folklore that had been passed on verbally for generations. It wasn’t long before fairy tales became a highly fashionable topic of discussion in the renowned salons of Paris. Though the fairy tale
The Little Match Girl
(1845) was made famous by Hans Christian Andersen, a Danish poet and author, perhaps his muse was stirred by hearing about characters such as these…

[
NOTE
: Though more inexpensive, self-igniting matchsticks weren’t invented until the 1800s, there were earlier cruder versions of the modern-day match created by a number of inventors in the 17
^th
century. In 17
^th
century France, there were many independent, self-reliant women, many of whom were making a lucrative living at writing the popular genre of fairy tales. I see no reason not to believe that a bright young woman could have been the first inventor of the matchstick… And whose name may have simply fallen through the cracks of time.]

Happy Reading!

Lila

“
Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.”

~
Anonymous quotation

December, 1685

France

“
LEO, YOU ARE
up to something. Out with it.” Daniel sported his usual smile, his arm draped casually over the back of the damask chair he occupied.

Chuckling softly, Bernard sauntered over to the ebony side table and poured himself a fresh brandy from the decanter. The sound of the amber liquid draining into his crystal goblet mingled with the crackling fire in the hearth. “It’s a new mistress, isn’t it, Leo? Come now. Give us the details.
Dieu.
Do you ever give that prick of yours a rest?”

Leopold Charles Nicolas d’Ermart, Duc de Mont-Marly, ignored the comment.

As well as the burst of mirth it inspired from his two younger brothers.

Bracing his shoulder against the window frame, he crossed his arms and gazed outside at the vast grounds of Montbrison, lightly dusted with snow.

If only it were merely a new conquest.

The urge to glance at the clock on the mantel seized hold of him.

Again.

The ticking had started to grate on him, its incessant sound far more difficult to ignore than the needling from his siblings.

Where the bloody hell is Gilles?
His man should have returned with a response to Leo’s offer by now.

The anticipation was driving him utterly mad.

He wasn’t accustomed to waiting for things, yet he’d waited for this opportunity—this moment—hell, this one woman for years.

This was one seduction he was pursuing with slow, methodical steps.

If things went as planned, Leo wasn’t going to be able to hide what he was truly up to from his brothers. Nor did he care to.

His plan was centered on Suzanne Matchet. So unlike any woman he’d ever known—and he’d known her forever.

Full of adorable little quirks and oddities. With big, alluring brown eyes. A brilliant mind for science. And the only woman in the realm who preferred he fall off a cliff.

And for a damned good reason, too.

“Now, Bernard,” Daniel said. “I’m sure there’s a woman or two left whom our brother hasn’t sampled.” He grinned.

Leo frowned and grappled with his patience. Normally, he was unfazed by his brothers’ baiting and ribbing. But today he was on edge. “Are you both quite done?”

“Not until you tell us who she is,” Bernard said.

Daniel was quick to add, “And how delicious she is.”

They were now both sporting the same idiotic grin.

It took everything inside him not to punch the wall. Something,
anything
to vent the frustration mountaining inside him as he waited.

And waited.

And,
Jésus-Christ
, waited some more.

What was taking Gilles so fucking long? He should have been engaged in a private meeting with Gilles right at this very moment, rather than this grating conversation with Daniel and Bernard.

Though Leo and his brothers kept little from each other, Suzanne was not a subject he’d ever discussed with them. That wasn’t because he
didn’t
know how delicious she was.

In truth, he did. He knew every last mouthwatering inch of her.

He knew more than just her body and the sweet spots that made her melt and moan for him. He knew her deepest secrets. Her hopes and dreams. The sweet way she’d tug on her ear whenever she was nervous or deep in thought. And the way she’d tangle a finger in one of her silky curls and absently play with the strand when she was engrossed in a book. Though he hadn’t laid eyes on her in years, he could effortlessly recall that little crinkle that would form on her brow whenever a pensive expression shaped her comely features.

Christ,
he could effortlessly recall countless memories of her.

And he was sick and tired of battling them back.

She was ten years of age when first she came to live at Château Montbrison with her father, then the newly appointed official physician of the d’Ermart family.

Leo was twelve.

He’d been immediately taken aback by the pretty, spirited girl who had marched straight up to him upon their first introduction, flouting convention and forgetting her place, despite her father’s gentle admonishment. She had a habit of speaking to Leo with a bluntness no one else ever dared use. She’d never placated him simply because he was the heir to a duchy. Or to win favor, as others did. And she could climb a tree—all while in skirts—as fast as he and his brothers. Always eager to prove she was just as clever and brave as any boy.

They became instant allies, and friends.

A smile tugged hard at the corners of Leo’s mouth as their childhood mischief flitted through his mind. He and Suzanne were constantly aggravating the servants. Peeping over countertops, they’d snatch food off the trays, food meant for his parents or guests—just for the fun of it—then race off into the extensive gardens at Montbrison for private picnics. He’d spent hours lying beside her on the grass staring up at the sky, utterly charmed and entertained as he listened to the random scientific facts she’d relay—whatever happen to manifest at that moment in her bright mind. She had devoured the books in her father’s personal library voraciously. And those in the large library at Montbrison.

Normally, prattle about science would have bored him beyond measure.

But there was absolutely nothing boring about the very unique Suzanne Matchet.

And on one Christmas Eve—eight years after they first met—their relationship progressed from the best of friends…

To lovers.

“Will you look at him, Daniel?” Bernard said, motioning to Leo with a jerk of his chin. “He’s practically smiling. The sex must be excellent.”