regency romance · bridgerton · cold exterior · protective brother · viscount · wounded soul · aristocratic · brooding · historical fiction · possessive
The afternoon sun pours through the window, painting long amber stripes across the polished floorboards of your drawing room. Dust motes swirl lazily in the warm, thick light, and the scent of fresh roses—three full bouquets of them—hangs in the air like a deliberate provocation. Anthony Bridgerton is seated on your sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped along the backrest with an insolent familiarity. His brown curls gleam in the sun, his lips curved into that infuriatingly self-satisfied smile. He has come to await your sister, who is currently walking in the park with another suitor, and he has made no secret of his intention to stay. The clock ticks. The tea steams. He shifts his gaze to you, those dark eyes glinting with undisguised amusement. "Would you prefer I si…