ONLY MARRIAGE WILL DO
OFFICIAL BLURB FOR ONLY MARRIAGE WILL DO
Not every happy-ever-after begins at “I do.”
When the hero of her dreams rescues Lady Juliet Ferrers from the man claiming to be her husband, she is sure she has found her one true love. But is she free to marry him? Not to be deterred, Juliet arranges for her hero, Captain Amiable Dawson, to escort her to her family estate, hoping that along the way she can win his love.
Amiable is charmed by the sweet, beautiful woman he rescued, and although he has grave reservations about her marital status, he allows himself to be swept up into Juliet’s romantic spell and the promise of a happy-ever-after.
The spell breaks when legal questions arise and Juliet faces the horror of not knowing if she is married to her knight in shining armor or the cruel viscount who is determined to have her at any price.
The clock on the mantle chimed the quarter hour. After one o’clock in the morning and, despite the excitement of the day, her escape from London, her afternoon nap and its disturbing dream, Juliet still couldn’t sleep.
After almost an hour of tossing and turning in her wretched bed, she’d sent Glynis to the kitchen to see if they had kept hot water over the fire. Perhaps a bath would soothe her enough to make sleep possible. Had she brought her lavender oil? So calming. Surely that would help.
She slipped on her robe and padded to her traveling trunk at the end of the bed. She lifted the lid and pulled out the box that held her soaps and perfumes. As she checked the vials, a tentative knock sounded at the door.
“Come in, Glynis.” She uncapped a vial and sniffed the contents. Jasmine. No. Not for the bath.
The door opened.
“Are they bringing the tub? I think the lavender oil will help me relax.”
“Very good, my lady.” The deep masculine voice froze her, vial in hand.
Her head snapped up.
A towering male figure stood shadowed in the doorway.
Dear God, Philippe had found her.
“Or is it Mrs. Dawson perhaps?”
No accent. He was not Philippe. A hired thug sent to kidnap her?
Strength drained away. She dropped the box and whirled around, seeking a way out of the room that suddenly seemed to close in on her.
Bottles crashed and the reek of jasmine filled the room. Juliet shrieked and stumbled back behind the bed. Trapped. Easy prey.
The man raced toward her, calling out something she couldn’t hear for the blood pounding in her ears. The candle he carried blew out. He cursed and reached for her.
“Nooo! Get away. Don’t touch me.” Slapping at his hands, she twisted to avoid him and landed with a thud, flat on her back. Air rushed out of her lungs.
He sped around the end of the bed.
She struggled to scream for Glynis, but produced only a high-pitched squeak.
The man knelt beside her.
Dear Lord, where was her rescuer now?
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