Elizabeth Bennet can’t imagine anything worse than being stranded by a blizzard in a tiny cottage with proud and unpleasant Mr. Darcy. But being trapped there for days – and nights - with an injured and confused Mr. Darcy who keeps saying the oddest things about her, is even worse. At least he possesses the useful ability of lighting a fire to keep them from freezing to death. But when he puts his arms around her, she discovers the hearth isn't the only place he knows how to build a fire. And the little half-frozen kitten he finds in a woodpile isn't proving to be much of a chaperone.
She doesn’t really believe his promises to marry her if anyone finds out they spent two nights alone together, especially after learning he was betrayed by another woman in the past. When her worst fears are realized and her reputation is in tatters, she isn’t surprised to discover Mr. Darcy has vanished into thin air, leaving her no choice but to find a husband as soon as possible before her whole family is ruined. Any husband, no matter how much she dislikes him. Even if she can’t stop thinking of Mr. Darcy….
Genre: FICTION / Romance / GeneralOver 8,000 copies sold in first two months of publication. Highest ranking: #399 on Kindle; #1 in Kindle Historical Fiction
“Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy!” A female voice called his name urgently.
He wanted to ignore it, but it stirred some memory. He forced his eyes open to discover the visage of Elizabeth Bennet only inches from his face. “You,” he said distinctly, “are not supposed to be here.”
“I am not supposed to be here?” Her voice rose sharply on the words. “You are the one who… oh, never mind. Are you well enough to walk?”
“Walk? Why would I want to walk?”
She closed her eyes as if hunting inside herself for patience. “Because it is snowing and you are injured.”
“I am not injured. I am merely resting.”
This time her lips twitched. “I see. You have chosen to rest by the side of the road in the middle of a snowstorm with a gash in your head. An interesting choice, Mr. Darcy. Personally, I would recommend a warm bed next time.”
How tempting those lips were! “A warm bed sounds very good to me, although hardly for resting.”
Elizabeth turned her face away, but he thought she was laughing. “Come, sir. I must take you to shelter. I fear you are confused from your injury.”
He frowned. Had her normal intelligence deserted her? “I already told you I am not injured.”
With a sigh, she pulled off her glove and touched her fingers to the burning knife, sending it ever deeper into his skull. He winced as she held up a bloody handkerchief in front of him. “Sir, you are bleeding. That is generally a characteristic of injuries.”
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French
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Translation in progress.
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Greek
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Already translated.
Translated by REVEKA KATSAVOUNI
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