Teri Wilson - Unleashing Mr Darcy

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman teetering on the verge of thirty must be in want of a husband.

Not true for Manhattanite Elizabeth Scott. Instead of planning a walk down the aisle, she’s crossing the pond with the only companion she needs—her darling dog, Bliss. Caring for a pack of show dogs in England seems the perfect distraction from the scandal that ruined her teaching career, and her reputation, in New York. What she doesn’t count on is an unstoppable attraction to billionaire dog breeder Donovan Darcy. The London tycoon’s a little bit arrogant, a whole lot sexy…and the chemistry between them is disarming. When passion is finally unleashed, might Elizabeth hope to take home more than a blue ribbon?

Unleashing Mr. Darcy

Teri Wilson

www.mirabooks.co.uk

For Mr Darcy lovers everywhere

With special thanks to my family,

Elizabeth Winick Rubinstein, super-agent,

Rachel Burkot, Tara Parsons and Susan Swinwood

at Harlequin,

fellow writers Beckie Ugolini, Meg Benjamin,

and Rachel Brimble,

Sue Baxter and the Baxter Borders,

the very real Bliss and Finn,

and the illustrious Jane Austen, to whom

I owe a debt of gratitude.

TERI WILSONgrew up as an only child and could often be found with her head in a book, lost in a world of romance and exotic places. As an adult, her love of books has led her to her dream career—writing. Now an award-winning romance author, when Teri isn’t travelling or writing, she enjoys ballet, knitting and having fun with friends, family and her dogs, Bliss and Finn, both cavalier King Charles spaniels. Teri lives in San Antonio, Texas and loves to hear from readers! Visit her website www.teriwilson.net.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman teetering on the verge of thirty is in want of a husband. Miss Elizabeth Scott, age twenty-nine years and three hundred sixty-four days, was a notable exception to this rule. Pressure from her mother notwithstanding, Elizabeth was quite content with her single status. More so in recent weeks, perhaps, than ever before. There was something about capturing the unwanted attention of a very powerful, very married man who couldn’t take no for an answer that made her appreciate the unconditional love of her dog in an entirely new way.

Dogs were loyal.

Dogs didn’t get people fired.

Dogs understood the word no.

Which was why spending her birthday weekend at a dog show off the Jersey Turnpike seemed like a little slice of heaven. Was there a better way to forget that her life was virtually falling apart at the seams than to spend two pleasurable days grooming her Cavalier King Charles spaniel to perfection and winning a handful of shiny satin ribbons?

No.

Elizabeth would consider it the perfect weekend, even without the ribbons. She smiled at Bliss, who blinked up at her with wide, melting eyes from her position on the grooming table. Bliss stood on her hind legs, craned her neck and swiped Elizabeth’s cheek with a puppy kiss. She loved the dog, almost too much. Definitely too much, according to her sister Jenna.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Jenna nodded toward Bliss and smirked. “That big Barbie head you got for Christmas when you were nine. Remember? She had the hair that you could set in rollers and that gaudy blue eye shadow.”

“Of course I remember.” Elizabeth spritzed Bliss’s ears with volumizing spray. “LuLu.”

“Oh, good grief. I forgot you named it that.” Jenna took a giant swig of her Starbucks and shook her head. “Who renames Barbie?”

“I do.” Elizabeth eyed the latte with envy. Starbucks was exactly the type of guilty pleasure unemployed teachers—even temporarily unemployed ones like herself—couldn’t afford. So were dog-show entry fees, for that matter. She planned on making this one count.

“Seriously. It’s basically the same thing. The brushing, the blow-drying.” Jenna picked up a pair of thinning shears and examined them until Elizabeth plucked them from her fingers. Those thinning shears had cost her two full days’ pay.

Back when she was employed.

You’re still employed. It’s only a one-week suspension. Think of it as a vacation, albeit a forced vacation that you can in no way afford.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, wielded the shears over the top of Bliss’s head and snipped away a few wisps of downy puppy fuzz. She drew back to take a final look. “Perfect.”

Bliss yipped in agreement, and Jenna rolled her eyes. “You should have been a hairdresser, sis, instead of a teacher. I’m afraid you chose the wrong profession.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she bit her lip to silence herself. “I’m so sorry. Poor choice of words.”

Elizabeth pasted on a smile. “Forget it.”

A look of chagrin crossed Jenna’s features. At least Elizabeth hoped it was chagrin and not pity. “I’m an idiot. Don’t pay any attention to me. You’re a great teacher. The best. This whole ‘administrative leave’ thing is temporary. You’ll have your job back before you know it. I’m an idiot, and that Grant Markham is a dog.”

“Don’t say that.” Elizabeth pulled the grooming smock over her head and smoothed down the front of her dress. “It’s an insult to dogs.”

“Right.” Jenna winced. “I want to make it up to you. How about a latte? My treat, birthday girl.”

Elizabeth slid Bliss’s show lead around her neck. If Jenna left now for Starbucks, she’d miss seeing Bliss in the ring. Not that Jenna would really mind. She didn’t much care for dog shows. Elizabeth knew she’d only come because she was worried about her sister spending her birthday weekend alone. Trying to explain that she wasn’t alone—she had Bliss, after all—had only made her more determined.

Sweet Jenna. Always the protective older sister.

“That would be great.” Elizabeth tucked Bliss under her arm. “Pumpkin Spice. Skinny.”

“I’m ordering it with whip. It’s your birthday. Live a little.” Jenna slung her purse over her shoulder and grinned as she disappeared through the maze of camping chairs and portable tables in the crowded grooming area of the dog show.

Elizabeth gave Bliss a little squeeze. “Just you and me, girl. Are you ready? It’s showtime.”

The area ringside was abuzz with nervous energy, even more so than usual. Bliss was Elizabeth’s first show dog and, at nine months old, very much a puppy. They were perfectly matched in their inexperience, so butterflies were still an unquestionable fact of life. Ordinarily, the other handlers seemed to take everything in stride. Today, however, everyone was wide-eyed with concern and clustered in groups of two or three.

An eerie silence had fallen over the area around ring 5. Even the dogs had stopped barking.

Elizabeth tightened her grip on Bliss and sidled up next to one of the small groups of exhibitors who were busy whispering and furrowing their brows. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a judging change.” A round-faced woman with a mass of blond curls wound the length of her tricolor Cavalier’s show lead around her fingers until her fingertips turned white.