By Laura Lee Guhrke
"She proposal she used to be the luckiest girl in London...
Surviving on a seamstress' source of revenue and a gentle movement of fantasies, Prudence Bosworth has continually longed for romance and romance. Then she inherits a fortune from the daddy she's by no means obvious, with the stipulation that she wed in a single yr. Prudence is decided to marry for real love, and after seeing firsthand the luxurious chivalry of a definite duke, just one guy will do . . .
Rhys de wintry weather, the Duke of St. Cyres, hides his cynicism in the back of a short wit and a fair faster smile. He needs to marry an heiress, and as good fortune might have it, the gorgeous little seamstress-turned-heiress is strictly what he wishes. yet he by no means anticipated to fall for Prudence, and whilst his stunning deception is published, he'll cease at not anything to win her again . . . whether it ability renouncing each final one in all his depraved ways.
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Extra info for The Wicked Ways of a Duke (Girl Bachelors, Book 2)
The Irish henchmen were outside. The duke was leaning over, one hand on his side as if in pain. Fiona pushed him toward the open coach door first but he held back, motioning her to go forward. "Please, Hester, into the coach," Fiona begged. But Hester didn't move. " she demanded. "Why is he with you? " "It's a long story," Fiona started, taking Hester's arm and attempting to direct her up the step into the coach. " Hester stepped back. " she demanded enunciating each syllable. She was a woman accustomed to having her way.
Fiona smiled. Her earlier shyness fled in the face of her purpose. She slid her hand in her pocket and palmed the vial as she walked toward him. Still sitting in his chair in front of the table, he watched her approach, his eyes alive with interest. Looking past his shoulder, she could see the lip of his wine glass. She sat on his lap. The duke brought his legs up to support her weight. His hands went right for her waist. Fiona smiled down at him. She pushed that lock of hair back from his forehead and slid her arms around his neck, the vial in her right hand.
I don't think so," she said, backing away from him. He grabbed the front of her coat and attempted to yank her into the coach just as a pistol shot filled the air. Thomas had come out of the inn and stood ten feet away. The duke came back into the coach, his hand losing its hold on Hester. But it wasn't him the shot had hit. It was the courtesan. Thomas had missed, again. Hester's eyes widened. " she repeated and then fell to the ground. "Drive," the duke shouted at the coachman as the Irishman cursed his bad aim.