By Suzanne Enoch
"**Never a gentleman . . . till now.**
Lord Bramwell Johns, the second one son of a duke, is an unrepentant scoundrel. Now that his closest acquaintances are disgustingly ensconced in household bliss, Bram is feeling surprisingly stressed. and never even relieving London's least deserving artistocrats in their ill-gotten jewels is enough—until the evening he overhears a controversy. it sounds as if girl Rosamund Davies is ready to be compelled into marriage with a rogue even worse than himself.
Rose is easily conscious of Bram's scandalous recognition, so any explanation for his surprising curiosity in her is suspect; extra so in view that he's shut buddies with the fellow approximately to destroy her kin! She has her personal plan although, and Bram can be simply what she requires—as lengthy as she recalls that he's in basic terms searching for himself. so long as she recollects that his kisses and caresses don't suggest whatever. so long as she will hold from brooding about even if she will belief a scoundrel . . . together with her heart.
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Additional resources for Always a Scoundrel (Notorious Gentlemen, Book 3)
If George, the Arab, with his indiscriminate passion for blue-eyed blondes ever saw us together, he'd suffer harem visions. I'm the leggy sort. My hair is short and honey-colored, my eyes are dark blue. Roselle is smaller, younger, in her late twenties; she has long straw-colored hair and light blue eyes. Jailed once for possession of pot, she's on probation now and has given up growing marijuana in her greenhouse. Handing Tom a dripping bunch of daisies so he can whack the long stems off, I wander into the greenhouse.
Shut up. Shut up. ” He caught her by her arms, held on a moment, then let go. * * * Alvarez was the head of the shearing crew. Leo Alvarez, Bern's younger brother. Honest, Cliff was certain. He made his men keep correct count of the number they sheared and worked alongside them. Some locals, some wetbacks. Nothing to worry about there. All the ranchers around Mullin used him. Annie loved to see Leo's truck running up the low hill to the corral. “It looks like an ancient rickety shearing machine, something Don Quixote might have imagined rising out of those dusty Spanish plains, Cliff.
He refused to listen to her. He would do as he pleased unless she could prevent him, and she couldn't. Because he'd changed the rules. She realized that when he called from Mexico City. This time she, not Leo, had to meet his plane. The demand was flattering. It was also a way of forcing her to decide. * * * When Annie didn't return from the ranch at the expected time, Cliff waited a while then called the foreman. She was a woman who generally moved according to schedule, a more flexible one now that the children had gone to college.