USA Today Bestselling Author Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. She was a 2018 RITA ® Finalist in the Romance Writers of America Contest. To connect with Lauren, visit her at www.laurensmithbooks.com

Haunted, schmaunted. 
Bastian, infamous playboy and the current Earl of Weymouth doesn’t believe his English castle is haunted. So what if a few windows and lightbulbs shatter? That happens. OK, bleeding portraits are hard to explain…  But he is not going to be deterred. Not even by Jane, a seductive-as-sin grad student who has assigned herself the task of ghost hunting at Stormclyffe Hall. All Bastian wants is to restore his ancestral home, not be distracted by her curvy hips, bedroom eyes and gorgeous smile—
 
Fine, maybe he does want to get naked with Ms. GhostBuster, but that’s only because she practically follows him around, nosing into his daily life. And yes, because she looks so damnably sexy, however, he refuses to give into lust.  No matter how much she tempts him.
But when the ghosts up the ante and try to kill them, Bastian realizes he will have to keep Jane close. Very, very close. Purely to protect her, of course.
 
At least that’s what he tells himself. All bets—and some clothes—are off, as he shows her what a real earl is made of.


The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall

The following morning, Jane couldn't believe she was staring at the most expensive car money could buy. An Aston Martin sat in the drive outside Stormclyffe's front door. 


"You like it?" Bastian tossed the keys at her. 


They bounced off her chest and hit the ground with a heavy clink.


"Like it? I think I want to steal it! No wonder you can't go into town unnoticed." She snatched up the keys and gazed at the Aston Martin with sheer lust. It was a model One-77, a gray, two-seat coupe. What person in her right mind wouldn't like it?


"You want to drive?" He pointed at the keys in her hands, the wind teasing his dark blond hair and playfully blowing it in his eyes.


She wanted to hold onto this moment forever. The picture of him smiling, leaning one hip casually against a car almost as sexy as he was, with the sea behind him.


Chapter 36