But she had dreamed of being his for too long. He had quite ruined her for a marriage of convenience. She wanted everything from him: his mind, his body, his name and, most of all, his heart.
But there, in that remarkable room, surrounded by a laughing, rollicking, unseeing collection of London's brightest and wickedest, Pippa's knowledge of anatomy expanded. It seemed there was such a thing as a broken heart.
I, for one, have no interest at all in having my heart stolen.
Colleen McCullough taught me that desire is the heart of romance.
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