He lived an idyllic life…
One day, Flynn, Earl of Luxmoore, was a wealthy, carefree lord, courting the woman he intended to wed. And the next day, he’s stripped of all but his title and left with no means to care for his loved ones. When the person responsible for his ruination offers him a solution—marriage to an unwilling and resentful American beauty—he has no choice but to accept. Not if he wants to care for his ailing mother, elderly grandmother, and disabled sister.
Fate dealt her a cruel hand…
Angelina Ellsworth unwittingly committed bigamy, and when she finds herself pregnant, she’ll do anything to protect her baby. Including fleeing to England and marrying a handsome nobleman, every bit as desperate and opposed to their marriage of convenience as she. She agrees to wed Flynn, stipulating two conditions: the union is in name only, and after a year, they’ll go their separate ways. Except, Angelina didn’t count on her first husband, refusing to let her go.
Resentment and anger war with passion and desire…
Flynn risks his life to protect Angelina from the madman pursuing her, but is his sacrifice enough? Can a woman who’s vowed to never trust a man again and an embittered lord find contentment in an arranged marriage neither wanted?
2017 Finalist Uncaged Book Reviews Raven Awards
2015 InD'Tale Rone Award Finalist
2015 Wisconsin RWA Write Touch Readers' Award Winner
Angelina turned to Flynn.
She couldn’t read his shuttered expression. His jaw clenched with suppressed strain as his fingers flexed around the tankard.
She’d never seen him this way—like a tightly coiled spring or an adder ready to strike. A fresh blow of betrayal slammed into her.
He had known. And hadn’t told her. Warned her. Prepared her.
Her gaze raced around the room. His family must have been informed as well. A dizzying rush of mortification suffused her.
Now would be a good time for the floor to open and swallow me, God.
Gripping the table, Angelina stood, shoving her chair away from the table as she did. She searched for another exit.
“I . . . I need . . .” She couldn’t finish, fearing she was going to vomit. Her back pained her something fierce.
Flynn whipped his head her direction. “Angelina?”
“No.” She tightened her hold on the table and refused to look at him. “Not now. Not here,” she managed, her voice scarcely more than a whispered rasp.
You should have told me, she screamed silently, swallowing convulsively as what little she’d eaten threatened to reappear.
Don’t let me be sick in front of everyone.
She couldn’t bear more humiliation.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by M. Meschino
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