Nicola and the ViscountZondervan, 06/10/2009 - 272 páginas A breezy, funny Regency romance with an unforgettable heroine—from the bestselling author of The Princess Diaries series and many well-loved romances. Nicola Sparks has fallen in love, big time. The object of her dreams is the fabulously rich Lord Sebastian, he of the ice-blue eyes, golden hair, and full-on mastery of the dance floor. To Nicky, Lord S. is a god. But are gods always quite as perfect as they are meant to be? Nicola, sixteen and an orphan, always gets what she wants. She's ready to dive headlong into her first glittering London society season. She's also ready to dive headlong into the arms of handsome and debonair Lord Sebastian. Nicola's dream is a proposal from the viscount—a dream she's about to realize at last! So naturally, Nathaniel Sheridan's insinuations about her fiancé's flawed character annoy her mightily. But when Nicola's natural curiosity gets the best of her, she begins to piece together a few things for herself. To her great surprise, Nicola realizes she's had the wrong viscount all along . . . but is it too late to make things right? Nicola could feel Lord Sebastian's heart beating. It was the most delightful feeling in the world. Surely it meant that The God liked her. More than simply liked her—loved her even. It had to! It just had to! |
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... cried, turning away from the sun-filled window she'd gone to stand before. “Why, Nicky's had invitations to come and live with some of the richest girls at school! Sophia Dunleavy's asked her. Oh, and Charlotte Murphy. Even Lady Honoria ...
... , leaped from the tasseled stool and ran to embrace her. “Oh, Lady Sheridan,” Nicola cried, not caring that she'd nearly upset the armful of linens Mirabelle, the maid, had been carrying. “You are so wonderful! You almost make 5.
... cried excitedly. “You should see the phaeton that just pulled 'round! Matching bays, eighteen hands each if they're an inch, and had to have cost a hundred quid each, easy—” “Phillip!” Lady Sheridan was shocked by the lack of decorum ...
... cried. But it was too late. The damage was done. “So that's who you were talking about when I walked in.” Nathaniel pushed some dark hair from his eyes and glared at Nicola. “Well, just so you know, Sebastian Bartholomew is nothing but ...
... cried. “You don't even know him!” “I know him a good deal better than you do,” Nathaniel replied. “He was in my same college at Oxford.” “And?”Nicola demanded. “So what if he was an oarsman? I should think that's a good deal more ...
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Secção 5_ | 60 |
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Secção 19_ | 238 |