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● He starts with flowers. A wedding can't have too many flowers. Or harps. Or cakes.
● He lets her know she'll make a beautiful, desirable bride—and tries not to picture her as his.
● He doesn't kiss her.
● If he kisses her, he definitely doesn't kiss her again.
● When all else fails, he puts her in a stunning gown. And vows not to be nearby when the gown comes off.
● And no matter what—he doesn't fall in disastrous, hopeless love with the one woman he can never call his own.
374 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published December 30, 2014
He doesn’t love me.”
“Of course he does. Or he will. Love has a way of creeping up on a man. I’d venture to say love has to creep up on a man. If men ever saw it coming, we’d only run away.”
“Just because they're family doesn't mean they won't hurt you. It means they know how to cut deep.”
“Yes, but everyone has swans,” Daphne said. “They’re supposed to be romantic because they mate for life.”
In the mirrored reflection, Phoebe arched one slender eyebrow. “So do vultures, wolves, and African termites. I haven’t seen any ice sculptures of them.”
This was so like Piers. It wasn’t enough that he’d been their father’s favorite son. It wasn’t enough that he’d returned from some sort of mysterious, dashing work in the service of the Crown and would probably be decorated with knighthoods and laurels. It wasn’t enough that he had the most beautiful bride in all England ready to walk down the aisle with him this very day. All that would have been impressive, to most men. No, Piers had to take it one step further. He brought dogs back from the dead.