Miss Bradshaw's Bought Betrothal

Miss Bradshaw's Bought Betrothal
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She'd done it! Plain, invisible Evelyn had escaped…Fed up with being a doormat to her evil stepmother, heiress Evelyn Bradshaw pays a dissolute rake to pose as her betrothed so she can secure her freedom. But then her fake fiancé leaves her with his estranged brother Finn Matlock and disappears!Having withdrawn from the world the last thing Finn needs is the temptation of a woman, especially one like Evie. She has an irritating habit of causing chaos wherever she goes and being in places she shouldn't…including, as he soon learns, his heart!

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Virginia Heath. Miss Bradshaw's Bought Betrothal

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She’d done it! Plain, invisible Evelyn had escaped...

Fed up with being a doormat to her evil stepmother, heiress Evelyn Bradshaw pays a dissolute rake to pose as her betrothed so she can secure her freedom. But then her fake fiancé leaves her with his estranged brother Finn Matlock and disappears!

.....

Outside the kitchen door, he pulled off his boots. Stowers, his butler, was too old to be getting out of bed in the small hours and Finn knew that if he got the first whiff he had returned early, the faithful old retainer would insist on attending to him. As he had expected, the house was shrouded in darkness and not a single lamp was lit to ease his way, but he did not bother lighting one. He knew the layout of the place so well he could probably traverse it without incident in his sleep. At the foot of the stairs, something caught his eye and he peered down the hallway. A weak strip of light bled out from under the closed door to the small library. Odd. Perhaps the servants had forgotten to extinguish the light.

The door swung open silently on its well-oiled hinges and the sight beyond rendered him temporarily speechless. A strange woman stood in front of the roaring fireplace, staring into the flames and smiling. Whilst that was shocking in itself, the glow from the fire rendered her billowing nightgown almost translucent and awarded him the wholly unexpected, but not wholly unwelcome, view of her voluptuous figure beneath. It was almost a perfect hourglass. A deliciously rounded bottom, a nipped-in waist and, if he was not mistaken from this odd angle, a magnificent bosom. The sort of figure that would earn her a small fortune as a tavern wench. To torture him further, she bent down to throw more wood on to the flames and the thin fabric moulded to her behind like a second skin, highlighting the way those hips flared and then tapered as his eyes travelled down a shapely pair of legs. After two hours on the road, this unexpected stranger was indeed a sight for sore eyes. Aesthetics aside, she still had no place being where she was.

.....

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