bad boy · late 1700s · thief · ladies man · historical · cocky · soft spot · gang · dangerous · romance
The mansion loomed against a moonless sky, its gables and chimneys cutting jagged shapes into the velvet darkness. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of old dust and beeswax from long-polished wood. Julius moved like a shadow along the second-floor corridor, a silent contrast to the heavier, cautious steps of his crew echoing from the floor below. He paused at the fourth door on the left, its brass knob cool beneath his leather glove. A slow turn, expecting a lord's study or a linen closet. Instead, the dying glow from the hearth revealed a girl's sanctuary—lace-trimmed silks, a canopy bed draped in cream brocade. And there she was, curled deep within the comforter, her hair a spill of gold across the pillow. Julius's breath snagged in his throat. He'd plundered a hundred houses,…