Sophie Weston - The Duke's Proposal

What is wrong with me? I regularly get wrapped up in the arms of the most beautiful men in the business. They don’t do this to me!

The breeze off the sea was cool. She refused to shiver, but they were walking so close that he picked it up.

“Cold?”

“Maybe a little.”

He stopped at once and took off his jacket. Before Jemima could think of a thing to say, he had swung it around her shoulders and taken her hand again, urging them on.

“Better?”

The jacket was surprisingly heavy. The silky lining slithered along her exposed skin like a live creature. She felt embraced by it. Soothed and somehow protected. And so warm! It was like cuddling up in front of a warm fire on a cold night. Like basking in sunshine.

Like being loved.

Oh, boy, am I in trouble here.

Chased to the altar—three independent cousins swept off their feet by the most eligible Englishmen!

Pepper, Izzy and Jemima Jane are cousins—with nothing in common except the gorgeous red hair they’ve inherited from their grandmother! They even grew up on different continents: Pepper is heiress to an American business empire, Izzy and Jemima shared their very English childhood as adopted sisters….

But do they have more in common than they realize?

For the first time in their lives the three cousins find themselves together: as a family, as friends, as business partners. And they’re about to discover that they’re not so different from each other after all!

Pepper, Izzy and Jay Jay are thoroughly modern women, determined to be ruled by the head, not the heart. Now their lives are turned upside down as each meets a man who challenges her to let love into her life—with dramatic consequences!

Pepper had an unexpected encounter in The Independent Bride (#3747)

Izzy met her match in The Accidental Mistress (#3776)

Now Jemima is the last of the cousins to find her man—in The Duke’s Proposal.

The Duke’s Proposal

Sophie Weston

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To Kate

PROLOGUE PROLOGUE THE tall, lithe man leaned on the balustrade and looked out to sea. The simple cottage was hidden away in the hotel grounds, a long way from the hustle and bustle. He gave a deep sigh of pleasure. Night. Warmth. A breeze, soft as a woman’s breath, across his skin. Voices wafted over the murmurous water but he was alone. Just as he always was. So? That was what he had chosen all those years ago. That was what he had stuck with. You make your choices. Then you live by them. But sometimes, on a perfect night like this, when the air was heavy with the scents of leaves and the sea, he found himself wondering. What if it had been different? How would it feel if she were here with him? ‘“The not impossible she”,’ quoted Niall Blackthorne aloud, mocking himself. Across the bay, the entrance to Casino Caraibe Royale was lit up like Las Vegas. Already people were arriving in their hired limousines. Pretty soon the steel band would start. Party time, thought Niall. He shook himself out of his uncharacteristic reverie and stretched lazily in the gathering dark. He was shirtless, his tanned legs bare under the disreputable denim shorts. At nightfall the air was still warm along the skin. It was only later that the wind off the sea would really get up. And he would go to work. He grinned, thinking about it. Showered and smooth-shaven, his hair gleaming blue-black in the moonlight, his tuxedo tailored to perfection, he would drive over to the casino. He would circulate among the tourists and the professional gamblers, aloof and mysterious, and play blackjack and roulette and poker. Sometimes he won, and people envied him. Sometimes he lost, and they marvelled at his cool indifference. But either way they kept their distance. Even the women who fancied themselves in love with the enigmatic gambler never stayed. He never wanted them to. Now, just for a moment, in the hot, quiet night, he could pretend that he was the beach bum he looked like. There were compensations for being alone, he reminded himself wryly. No woman would tolerate his beach bum side for long. Even if he wanted her to. And of course he didn’t. His grin died. Soberly, he looked at the shifting starlit ocean. Face the truth, Niall. He was a one-woman man. And the one woman belonged to someone else.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

THE tall, lithe man leaned on the balustrade and looked out to sea. The simple cottage was hidden away in the hotel grounds, a long way from the hustle and bustle.

He gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

Night. Warmth. A breeze, soft as a woman’s breath, across his skin.

Voices wafted over the murmurous water but he was alone. Just as he always was.

So? That was what he had chosen all those years ago. That was what he had stuck with. You make your choices. Then you live by them.

But sometimes, on a perfect night like this, when the air was heavy with the scents of leaves and the sea, he found himself wondering. What if it had been different? How would it feel if she were here with him?

‘“The not impossible she”,’ quoted Niall Blackthorne aloud, mocking himself.

Across the bay, the entrance to Casino Caraibe Royale was lit up like Las Vegas. Already people were arriving in their hired limousines. Pretty soon the steel band would start.

Party time, thought Niall.

He shook himself out of his uncharacteristic reverie and stretched lazily in the gathering dark. He was shirtless, his tanned legs bare under the disreputable denim shorts. At nightfall the air was still warm along the skin. It was only later that the wind off the sea would really get up. And he would go to work.

He grinned, thinking about it. Showered and smooth-shaven, his hair gleaming blue-black in the moonlight, his tuxedo tailored to perfection, he would drive over to the casino. He would circulate among the tourists and the professional gamblers, aloof and mysterious, and play blackjack and roulette and poker.

Sometimes he won, and people envied him. Sometimes he lost, and they marvelled at his cool indifference. But either way they kept their distance. Even the women who fancied themselves in love with the enigmatic gambler never stayed. He never wanted them to.

Now, just for a moment, in the hot, quiet night, he could pretend that he was the beach bum he looked like. There were compensations for being alone, he reminded himself wryly. No woman would tolerate his beach bum side for long. Even if he wanted her to.

And of course he didn’t. His grin died. Soberly, he looked at the shifting starlit ocean.

Face the truth, Niall.

He was a one-woman man. And the one woman belonged to someone else.

THE big, bustling room fell silent when Jemima Dare walked in.

Rooms did that these days. It was no more than a collective intake of breath. But it was more eloquent than a drum roll. It said, Love her or loathe her, the Queen is here.