Isabel and the Rogue by Liana De la Rosa

About the Book

Isabel Luna has resigned herself to being the “forgotten” Luna sister, known amongst the peerage as the spare to her radiant socialite sisters. But thanks to her family’s connections to the Mexican ambassador in London, she is perfectly poised to go unnoticed while searching amongst the ton for intelligence that might aid Mexico’s fight against the French occupation.

Captain Sirius Dawson spends his days carefullly cultivating his persona as a rakish, aloof gentleman while secretly spying for the British Home Office. He has never paid much attention to the middle Luna sister, until a chance encounter where she discovers him in a compromising position alerts Sirius that Isabel is not the insipid wallflower the ton has made her out to be.

Their mutual attraction is undeniable, and their positions would make them the perfect team to unearth the ton’s secrets. The only problem? They can’t seem to stop getting in each other’s way—or admit their feelings for one another. Thus begins a sizzling game of cat and mouse where Isabel and Sirius must decide whether to give in to their desires or fulfill their duty to their countries. When Isabel discovers private correspondence that could turn the tide for Mexico’s fight for independence, she’ll find she’s willing to do anything to protect her country—even if it means ignoring her heart and courting danger.

Published: June, 4, 2024

About the Author

Liana De la Rosa is a historical romance author who writes diverse characters in the Regency and Victorian periods. Liana has an English degree from the University of Arizona, and in her past life she owned a mystery shopping company and sold pecans for a large farm. When she’s not writing, Liana is listening to true crime podcasts and pretending she’s a domestic goddess while she wrangles her spirited brood of children with her patient husband in Arizona. Learn more online at lianadelarosa.com.

Excerpt:

A quick peek into the hall revealed her escape route was clear, so Isabel rearranged her expression to one she hoped reflected eagerness to rejoin the festivities. Not that anyone would notice her absence. Isabel was as invisible as the wallpaper-

A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist the moment she set foot inside the ballroom. Panic clawed up her spine, and out of instinct, Isabel brought her hand up to ram it into the perpetrator’s nose, when a familiar scent wove about her. A stupidly alluring scent she’d know anywhere, for the man it belonged to was also stupidly alluring.

“Snooping again, I suppose.” Captain Sirius Dawson slid his arm around Isabel’s waist while his left hand grasped her right. “After everything, it seems you’ve yet to learn your lesson.”

Isabel bristled . . . because of his accusation or his proximity she didn’t know, for Captain Dawson had an annoying talent of leaving her decidedly off-kilter.

She almost despised him for it.

As he effortlessly spun her into the swirl of dancers, part of Isabel realized that the captain had never danced with her before, thus she’d never been this close to him. Her skin tingled with awareness at every spot he touched. Isabel hated that she was apathetic to most men but that every part of her body seemed to stand at attention whenever this man-with his golden beauty and perceptive azul eyes-appeared.

Willing her muscles to relax, Isabel allowed him to move them to the strains of a Chopin waltz. Feeling gazes pressing upon her-whether Lady Yardley’s or Gabby’s, or possibly one of the scores of Captain Dawson’s admirers-Isabel raised her chin. She’d danced a waltz with any number of gentlemen in the time she’d been in England, but never with him. For all that he was her brother-in-law’s friend, or that Isabel had spent more than a fortnight at Captain Dawson’s country estate, he had seemed to go out of his way to ignore her presence. Being shunned by such a man should not bother her half as much as it did, but her chest went tight whenever she saw him.

The amused look on Captain Dawson’s face now reminded Isabel that he had said . . . something. She was sure it was a scold, because when he did speak to her, he liked to point out her bad behavior. Isabel replayed his words in her mind.

“I don’t know what you mean. I was merely returning from the retiring room when you waylaid me into this waltz.” She arched a brow. “If you wanted to dance with me, you could have asked politely, like everyone else.”

Isabel managed not to cringe through her bluff. Everyone else? Hardly. While her dance card was never empty, for rumors of her fortune had encouraged many a cash-strapped second son to seek out her hand, her reserved nature was not particularly inviting. She’d learned quickly that if she spoke of a novel she’d read or a new scientific discovery she’d heard about, eyes would glaze over and attentions would wander. More often than not, Isabel held her silence during such dances, answering the gentlemen’s questions politely but volunteering nothing else, for truly, what was the point?

But something about the captain always made her speak without thinking. It was a very vexing thing. The captain was very vexing.

His blue eyes bored into her now, his lips a confusing slash between displeasure and amusement. Surely Isabel was reading him wrong and she fought not to squirm. She had always believed her father possessed the most intimidating stare, but she’d been wrong, for nothing made her want to share all her secrets-or confess all her sins-like Captain Dawson’s steely gaze. It was a fortuitous thing, then, that Isabel’s stubbornness was more than up for the challenge.

“I don’t see why you should care about me or what I do when you and I are not friends,” she said archly.

“We aren’t?” The captain’s brows rose. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

Her own brows dipped low over her narrowed eyes. “You did, sir. In all the months since we departed Dancourt Abbey, you’ve not spoken with me once. Nor my sister or Lady Yardley, that I am aware of.”

“Well, that’s not true,” he murmured. “I chatted with Lady Yardley in the park just the other day.”

“How nice for you.” Isabel pinned her gaze on a perfect blond curl near the nape of his neck. “Yet the fact remains that we have never been friendly, Captain Dawson, even while my sisters and I were at Dancourt Abbey that summer. You have never taken any interest in me-” Isabel clamped down on her tongue so hard she tasted copper. She had no intention of hinting at her hurt feelings over his disregard. She never wanted any man to think he could maim her pride. Especially this man.

His chest rose and fell with a sigh, and Captain Dawson shifted his gaze from her face to a spot over her shoulder. “That’s not true. I assured Fox I would keep an eye on you and Miss Gabriela-“

“And I assure you, Capitán, that my sister and I do not need anything from you.”

Isabel did not raise her voice, nor did her tone hint at the anger his indifference had sparked within her. But Captain Dawson seemed to know anyway, for the angular planes of his face softened. Just a tad.

She refused to soften in return. The captain may be her brother-in-law’s close friend, and he may have sheltered her and her sisters from Mexico’s enemies after Ana María and Gideon were wed. But Captain Dawson had shown her time and time again that she was not worth his notice.

Being a wallflower had its benefits, but Isabel was so very tired of being overlooked.

Excerpted from Isabel and The Rogue by Liana De la Rosa Copyright © 2024 by Liana De la Rosa. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.