Will Rose and Hunter overcome their differences and embrace true love?
Rose Woodcourt, a poor seamstress, is too proud to accept help, even when her home and freedom are threatened by the nefarious Mr. Wolfe. Especially not from Hunter Thorne, a titled gentleman far above her station. Earls only court common misses for one reason, and Rose has no interest in being a wealthy man’s mistress--however handsome and charming he may be.
Hunter is an honorable man; he refuses to turn his back on the spirited beauty regardless of how hard she pushes him away. As Mr. Wolfe’s threats evolve into actions Rose has little choice but to turn to Hunter.
Can the pair put an end to Wolfe’s nefarious deeds before Rose loses everything she holds dear, including her freedom?
Enchanted by the Earl is book one in my bestselling Fabled Love series and has strong sales across all platforms.
Hunter watched the sway of Miss Woodcourt’s hips as she strolled ahead of him. The way those breeches hugged her curves begged for his attention. He could not help but take note of her shapely legs, rounded derriere, and the flair of her hips. For a split second, he contemplated pulling her into his arms and ravishing her right there in the street.
The woman was off limits. An innocent, and he would not tarnish her, especially when he knew they could never wed. He tore his gaze from her luscious body, and tossed a glance at Sinclair, grateful his friend walked in front of her. The thought of the viscount admiring her assets caused his blood to heat. Pure madness, yet he seemed powerless to stop his reactions to her.
A scowl marred Rose’s dirty face as she glanced back at him. Hunter’s pulse sped at the sight of her displeasure. She must be miffed over the way he had handled her. With a weak smile, he stepped past her and reached for the door.
He did not care for the effect she had on him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. He withdrew a small tool and began to poke within the lock’s chamber.
“It refuses to budge. I need something longer.” He glanced over his shoulder. Sinclair stood so close to Miss Woodcourt, their arms touched. A ping of discomfort raced through him. Jealousy? He had to get away from this woman before she drove him to Bedlam.
Rose removed her hat, ran a hand across her auburn tresses, and pulled out a hatpin. “Try this.”
“Have you a history of breaking and entering?” Sinclair teased her.
Already translated. Translated by Elodie Demogue
Fantastic, as always!