The Viscount Who Loved Me (Bridgertons, #2)

by Julia Quinn

There is nothing like a spot of competition to bring out the worst in a man—or the best in a woman.

People always feared what they didn’t understand.

And then there was Kate Sheffield. The bane of his existence. And the object of his desires. All at once.

“Never a ninny, Kate. Even when I thought you the most insufferable female creature on the planet, I had no doubts about your intelligence.”

It was that spark. That damnable spark that never seemed to dim between them. That awful prickle of awareness that burned every time she entered a room, or took a breath, or pointed a toe. That sinking feeling that he could, if he let himself, love her.