e-book Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2

Free download. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and read online Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2 file PDF Book only if you are registered here. And also you can download or read online all Book PDF file that related with Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2 book. Happy reading Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2 Bookeveryone. Download file Free Book PDF Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2 at Complete PDF Library. This Book have some digital formats such us :paperbook, ebook, kindle, epub, fb2 and another formats. Here is The CompletePDF Book Library. It's free to register here to get Book file PDF Her Scoundrel: Bad Luck Brides Trilogy, Book 2 Pocket Guide.

Shelve Tennessee Moon. Shotgun Grooms by Susan Mallery. Now, thanks to their cagey uncle's ironclad will, saloonkeeper Lucas MacIntyre was forced to find himself a bride. So he proposed… More. Shelve Shotgun Grooms. He vowed to wed, bed, and abandon her.

Books on Sale: Sarah MacLean’s Rules of Scoundrels Series

But love got in the way Joan Johnston sweeps you back to Regency era England and Scotland with a love story that will take your breath away. Here… More. Shelve The Bridegroom Captive Hearts, 4. Love that grows among the heather is enchanted indeed New York Times bestselling author Jude Deveraux unravels a ghostly murder mystery in an ancient… More. Posing as a respectable lady, she becomes a mail-order bride, hoping to… More. Nineteenth-century Texas was alive with lovers and scoundrels, drifters and dreamers. Two missing parents. One man whose hatred had divided a fam… More. Shelve Hawk's Pledge Hawk Crest, 1.

Brenda Joyce has enthralled millions of readers with her New York Times bestselling novels. Now, join us in the next chapter of her unforgettable storytelling: the Francesca Cahill novels. Step into… More. Daniel's Bride by Linda Lael Miller.

About the author

Even from here, the stench of soured ale accosted her, forcing bile into her throat. With one last deep breath, she sidled her way into the dank, drunken confusion, forbidding her gray serge skirts to brush against anything. Much less anyone. From every murky corner—and for a squared-off tea tin of a building, this tavern abounded in murky corners—eyes followed her. Suspicious, leering eyes, set in hard, unshaven faces. It was enough to make any young woman anxious. For a fugitive young lady of quality, traveling alone, under the flimsy shield of a borrowed cloak and a fabricated identity….


  • TEAM ME - Using Archetypes to Get Out of Stuck!
  • Curing Americas Ill-Health By Reversing Our Widespread Magnesium Deficiency.
  • Robinson Crusoe.

An unseen someone jostled her from behind. Her gloved fingers instinctively clutched the envelope secreted in her cloak.

Her Scoundrel

Seeds of irrevocable ruin, scattered with the wind. A cold sense of destiny anchored her rising stomach. There was no going back now. She could walk through far worse than this shabby pub, if it meant leaving her restrictive life behind. She could even endure these coarse men ogling her breasts, so long as they did not glimpse the secret strapped between them. Her resolve firmed, Sophia caught the eye of a bald-headed man wiping a table with a greasy rag.

Navigation menu

He looked harmless enough—or at least, too old to strike quickly. She smiled at him. He returned the gesture with a completely toothless grin. She followed the direction indicated, moving through the crowd on tiptoe in an effort to keep her hem off the floor. The sticky floorboards sucked at her half-boots.

Toward the back of the room, she spied a boisterous knot of men and women near the bar. One man stood taller than the others, his auburn hair looking cleaner than that of his company. A brushed felt beaver rested on the bar nearby, an oddly refined ornament for this seedy den. As Sophia angled for a better view, a chair slid out from a nearby table, clipping her in the knee. She bobbled on tiptoe for a moment before tripping forward. The hem of her cloak caught on her boot, and the cloak wrenched open, exposing her chest and throat to the sour, wintry air.

In her desperate attempt to right herself, she clutched wildly for the wall—. His liquor-glazed eyes slid over her body and settled on the swell of her breasts. Had he mistaken her for some dockside trollop? Perhaps she was disguised in simple garments, but certainly she did not look cheap.

She tried to wriggle away, but with a quick move, he had her pinned against the bar. His grimy fingers dove into the valley of her bosom, and Sophia yelped. The brute released one of her arms to further his lascivious exploration, and Sophia used her newly-freed hand to beat him about the head. No use. His fingers squirmed between her breasts like fat, greedy worms burrowing in the dark.


  • Hot Dating Tips for Men: A Practical Guide for a Successful Date (Lifes Love Lessons Book 10).
  • Studies for Practical Players: Improving Calculation and Resourcefulness in the Endgame.
  • Curation Nation: How to Win in a World Where Consumers are Creators.

Her efforts at defense only amused her drunken attacker. Desperation clawed at her insides. But his fingers groped closer and closer to the one thing she dared not surrender. If he found it, Sophia doubted she would escape this tavern with her life intact, much less her virtue. Her attacker turned his head, angling for a better look down her dress. His grimy ear was just inches from her mouth. Within snapping distance.

Her Scoundrel | emilymarchonline

If she bit it hard enough, she might startle him into letting her go. She had all but made up her mind to do it, when she inhaled another mouthful of his rank sweat and paused.

His grimy ear was just inches from her mouth. Within snapping distance. If she bit it hard enough, she might startle him into letting her go.

She had all but made up her mind to do it, when she inhaled another mouthful of his rank sweat and paused. If her choices were putting her mouth on this repulsive beast or dying, she just might rather die. The repulsive beast gave a yawp of surprise as a pair of massive hands bodily hauled him away.


  • EASY FREE MONEY MAKING ON THE INTERNET TODAY.
  • The Correct Preposition: How to Use It - A Complete Alphabetic List (Immortal Grammar Series).
  • The Mad Earl's Bride (Scoundrels, #) by Loretta Chase.

Lifted him, actually, as though the brute weighed nothing, until he writhed in the air above her like a fish on a hook. With an easy motion, her rescuer tossed Bains aside. The brute landed some feet away, with the crunch of splintering wood. Sagging against the bar with relief, Sophia peered up at her savior. At least, she assumed him to be a gentleman.

His accent bespoke education, and with his dark-green topcoat, fawn-colored trousers, and tasseled Hessians, he cut a fashionable silhouette. But as his arms flexed, the finely tailored clothing delineated raw, muscled power beneath. And there was nothing refined about his face.

His features were rough-hewn, his skin bronzed by the sun. It was impossible not to stare at the golden, weathered hue and wonder—did it fade at his cravat? At his waist? Not at all? The more she peered up the man, the less she knew what to make of him. Then he smiled, and the lazy quirk of his lips tugged a thin scar slanting from his jaw to his mouth.

Mouth of a scoundrel, indeed!