The Wedding Bargain (Effingtons, Book 1) by Victoria Alexander

By Victoria Alexander

"Maximillian Wells, the Earl of Trent, couldn't think his ears-or his eyes. sooner than him stood attractive, not possible Pandora Effington, the town's so much scandalous good looks, and the fiery heiress was once making him a such a lot tantalizing provide. If he desired to take Pandora's hand in marriage, he needed to play a video game of her devising-and he had no purpose of wasting. so much of London's eligible bachelors left Pandora chilly and he or she longed for a real hero-a guy who may do something in his energy to win her love. Maximillian's very contact despatched shivers down her backbone and made her dream of lengthy nights spent in his palms. yet was once he keen to danger every little thing he held pricey to turn out his love?
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Additional info for The Wedding Bargain (Effingtons, Book 1)

Sample text

I might die an old maid, but I’ll always have my pals. God knows there are worse things than living alone. Most men are only speed bumps anyway, aggravating distractions scattered along life’s otherwise pretty nice highway. You might run into a good one every long once in a while, but even then he’s usually got something wrong with him. Good women, on the other hand, are everywhere. You can pick and choose, find the best ones, start a club, and have friends for life. Walking out of La Cuillerée, Lee turned at the door and waved good-bye to Mick Draco, but I didn’t.

Lee smiled back at me. I took off my glasses and pulled myself together. Mick Draco’s a dead end. And I’m a bust at the manwoman thing. Half a lifetime of trying and failing to connect with the opposite sex for longer than a year or two can’t be discounted or called “finding myself” anymore. I’m never going to find myself, because I’m a loser. ” I interrupted Rudy to ask, out of the blue, in the middle of the crème brûlée. Everybody smiled at me fondly; Isabel glanced at my wineglass—just checking, a tolerant, motherly gesture.

Well, I would get more. The worst punishment hadn’t started yet, but it was about to. As soon as I tried to explain all this to Curtis. 4 ISABEL I’ve been reading a book by a woman who believes that, in her most recent past life, she was a Nazi sympathizer. She collaborated with the SS, she says, spied on her neighbors, and made herself rich (or rather himself rich; she’s positive she was a man in this life) by shameless war profiteering. She bases this conviction not only on past-life regression therapy, but also on the circumstances of her current life.

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