Dear Commander-in-Chief - Chapter 530 - The Man's Strength Made Her Uneasy

Aidan was thrust into this word of death and magic against his will. He was weak, Frail and pathetic but his unyielding hardwork led him to the peak where he sits unrivaled, Now he tries to find other ways to cure his unending bordom.Netorase—Netorare—Overpowered—Harem—Elf’s—Giants—Incest—

I fell into a wannabe murim.But apparently martial arts is supposed to be difficult?Hm… Is it really that bad?

Beneath the vast and infinite starry skies of the universe, countless tribes engage in endless strife, and the flames of war remain unquenched.Rising from insignificance, he possessed no exceptional talents, except for the ability to draw upon the fruits of cultivation from the future.Yet, in a single night, he understood the Dao, and took a step that shattered the shackles of life.With but a thought, he grasped the universal powers, casually breaking down the barriers between spirit and reality.To him, even the most profound and enigmatic of secret tomes were as simple and dull as children's books.Still, he had to go back and fill in the gaps of his cultivation...Some appeared to be glorious, unparalleled geniuses.In reality, they practiced like mad in the shadows to repay their debts...

BOOK TWO OF THE HAMILTON SERIESWARNING: A Regency Era novel. Adult content with detailed smut…Read at you own risk⚠️⛔️Genre: Historical Romance / Smut / Enemies-to-Lovers / Mystery / Comedy[Book Two of the Hamilton Series. Can be read as a standalone, but better enjoyed after Lady Ines’ Scandalous Hobby.]To the world, Duke Rowan Hamilton is the perfect gentleman. But in the bedroom, he is a man possessed.Rowan Hamilton has it all: a Ducal title, the face of a fallen angel, and a smile that makes debutantes faint. He is the “Golden Duke”—charming, responsible, and utterly adored by society.But it’s all a lie.Beneath the coats and polite manners, Rowan is a man haunted by a ghost. For three years, he has remained faithful to the memory of a masked woman who stole a kiss, bested him at a game of chance, and vanished into the night. He doesn't want any one as his wife; he wants her.When his domineering aunt tires of his bachelorhood, she hires London’s most notorious underground matchmaker to force the issue.Enter Miss Delaney Kingsley.She is sharp-tongued, infuriatingly competent, and entirely unimpressed by his title. Her mission? To drag Rowan to the altar with the season’s “Diamond,” Lady Celine, within three months to collect the juicy payment Rowan’s aunt had to offer.Rowan intends to fire the meddlesome woman. But when Delaney looks at him with those hazel, intelligent eyes and orders him around like a young lad, he feels the first spark of life he’s felt in years.He decides to play her game. He will let her “coach” him on how to woo a lady. He will let her teach him how to dance, how to flirt, and how to seduce.But he has no intention of using those lessons on Lady Celine.“You were hired to find me a Duchess, Miss Kingsley. But the only person I want in my duchy and in my bed... is you.”As the lessons turn into forbidden nights and the bickering turns into scorching passion, Rowan begins to suspect that his matchmaker is hiding a secret of her own.She moves like a shadow, handles a rifle like a soldier, and tastes exactly like the ghost he’s been hunting for three years.What to Expect:* The Golden Retriever Duke: Who turns into a possessive Alpha behind closed doors.* The Matchmaker Trope: She’s trying to marry him off; he’s trying to take her clothes off.* High Heat: Slow burn that explodes into intense smut.* Competence Kink: He falls harder every time she bosses him around.* Cameos: Featuring the chaotic domestic life of Duchess Ines and Duke Carcel (and their baby Harry!).Excerpt:“Your Grace, please focus,” Delaney snapped, adjusting his cravat with efficient, gloved hands. “Lady Celine is waiting in the ballroom. You must look at her as if she is the only woman in the world.”Rowan caught her wrist, stopping her movements. He stepped into her space, backing her against the heavy oak door of the study, his “Golden Boy” mask slipping to reveal the hunger beneath.“And how, exactly, does one do that, Miss Kingsley?” he whispered, his voice rough. “Show me.”“I—I cannot show you, I am merely the coach—”“Then teach me,” he growled, lowering his head until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. “Teach me how to pretend I am not burning alive every time you walk into a room.”