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By Connie Brockway

Award-winning writer Connie Brockway takes readers to the dependent drawing rooms and sprawling kingdom estates of Victorian England during this eye-catching story of a lady who needs to retain an impossible to resist nobleman’s so much scandalous secret—without wasting her heart.
Evelyn Whyte hasn't ever forgotten the evening she first met Justin Powell—or the stunning indiscretion that left the raffish army hero endlessly in her debt. Now, eager to store her aunt’s foundering nuptial-planning firm, she’s prepared for Justin to pay off the want. All she wishes is his scenic ancestral domestic, the place she’s made up our minds to teach the realm that even a lady blameless within the methods of affection can flip an easy marriage ceremony into the social occasion of the season.
Justin is worked up to oblige, yet his hospitality may well position the marriage celebration in danger. blind to the bold double existence he conceals in the back of a cloak of amiable gentility, Evie and her site visitors descend on North go Abbey. Pursued by way of enemy brokers amid a whirl of festivities, Justin vows to maintain Evie secure. yet who will safeguard him from the charms of this fascinating woman—and the promise of a matchless love worthy any danger?

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That somebody may want to kiss me? you probably did. ” She threw the accusation at him like a slur, as though she proposal that through accusing him of desirous to kiss her she might one way or the other disgrace him… . as though … after which, ultimately, he understood. He may perhaps scarce think it. She couldn’t now not recognize. She couldn’t fail to spot… . With a feeling of awed disbelief he clasped her wrist and wheeled, trying to find a … Ah! There! Small and inconspicuous and all yet hidden. He pulled her to the replicate within the nook of her bedchamber, tossing apart the garments that hung excessive of it. He dragged Evelyn in entrance of him. “What are you—? ” “Hush,” he acknowledged, clasping her by means of the shoulders and spinning her round to stand the reflect. She glanced quick at it and away, as one could whatever vaguely offensive and subtly threatening. “What the satan are you doing? ” she requested angrily whilst he refused to enable her shy away, conserving her pinned together with her again opposed to him, her shoulder blades pressed into his chest. “Look. ” “I don’t are looking to play those video games, Justin,” she acknowledged irritably. yet, he famous, her mirrored gaze saved dancing again to her photograph. “Look,” he insisted. She glared up at him for an rapid, assembly the problem in his blue-green eyes after which, simply because she used to be courageous, simply because she didn't have something to be embarrassed about, simply because a girl who had confirmed her worthy in as many components as she had greater than uncomplicated attractiveness to suggest her, she stared defiantly into the replicate. He stood over and at the back of her, looking at her stare upon her mirrored picture. She stood like a soldier at realization, each muscle taut, each chord of her vibrating self-mastery. And not anything else. No gradual, dawning comprehension. not anything. “Enough but? ” she ultimately croaked and lifted her darkish eyes to fulfill his. “Satisfied? ” She used to be close to tears back. He may possibly pay attention them in her voice. yet this time they didn’t ignite a fireplace of self-loathing; they shocked him in an altogether various demeanour. “What do you notice? ” he requested softly. She was once the sort of small girl. One forgot, simply because not anything other than her dimension used to be diminutive. He bent his head close to her ear, took one stolen breath of her body spray, and whispered, “Come, Evie. inform me. What do you notice? ” He felt a bit shiver path via her. For a moment, he suggestion she’d refuse to respond to, yet then he heard her say defiantly. “A lady who feels like a lady. ” “A youthful-looking woman,” he paraphrased her phrases. “What else? ” “Little. ” “Petite. ” This time he’d startled her. Her brows flew jointly in disapproval. Of him, of his phrases, or of the truth that he’d dared right her—she was once an opinionated lady, his Evie—he wasn’t yes. “Skinny,” she said emphatically. “Delicate,” he whispered, his lips brushing her earlobe. He slightly heard her sigh, yet pay attention it he did. His head dipped reduce, his mouth skated up the nape of her neck, nibbled the downy hairs there. “Bony. Sinewy. ” She sounded breathless and careworn. He felt breathless and pressured. His head swam along with her body spray. “Lithe. Svelte. ” She shivered. His hand slipped from her shoulder to her hair, tunneling up in the course of the tender cloud of curls.

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