A Warriner To Tempt Her
A shy innocentShe's wary of all men.In this The Wild Warriners story, shy Lady Isabella Beaumont is perfectly happy to stay in the background and let her sister get all the attention from handsome suitors following a shocking incident. However working with Dr Joseph Warriner to help the sick and needy pushes her closer to a man than she’s ever been before. Is this a man worth trusting with her deepest of desires…?
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A shy innocent...wary of all men...
Part of The Wild Warriners
After a shocking incident, shy Lady Isabella Beaumont is perfectly happy to stay in the background and let her sister get all the attention from handsome suitors! However, working with Dr. Joseph Warriner to help the sick and needy pushes her closer to a man than sheâs ever been before. Is this man worth trusting with her deepest of desires...?
When VIRGINIA HEATH was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older the stories became more complicatedâsometimes taking weeks to get to their happy ending. One day she decided to embrace her insomnia and start writing them down. Virginia lives in Essex, with her wonderful husband and two teenagers. It still takes her for ever to fall asleepâ¦
Also by Virginia Heath
That Despicable Rogue
Her Enemy at the Altar The Discerning Gentlemanâs Guide Miss Bradshawâs Bought Betrothal His Mistletoe Wager
The Wild Warriners miniseries
A Warriner to Protect Her
A Warriner to Rescue Her A Warriner to Tempt Her
And look out for the next book
A Warriner to Seduce Her Available May 2018
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
ISBN: 978-1-474-07339-4
A WARRINER TO TEMPT HER
© 2018 Susan Merritt
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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For all my former students at the Hathaway Academy.
Believe you are good enough
and always follow your dreams.
Contents
July 1818
Dr Joseph Warriner sat down behind his desk with an air of resignation. Despite todayâs genuine attempt at resolve, he realised such efforts were ultimately futile. His situation was pathetic. Worseâhe was pathetic. He flicked out the dented gold pocket watch he always wore secured to his sensible dark waistcoat and knew, before even looking at the dial, it was almost eight oâclock. The fact he had checked the stupid thing every two minutes for the last half an hour irritated him, as did the sorry realisation he had also been drawn to participate in this ridiculous ritual for almost a month now. Drawn like a sailor to the sirens.
And for what? One transient dance exactly twenty-eight days ago. A few exchanged, meaningless pleasantries whilst he had stood with her other eager admirers, tossed randomly like discarded breadcrumbs to a yard full of chickens. Or like today, for a surreptitious glimpse of the cause of his torment, guiltily stolen through the heavy lace that covered the windows, when he knew, deep down, his foolish heart was once again chasing a shadow.
The whole sorry situation was pathetic.
Angrily, he snapped the watch closed and turned his chair towards the window and waited. Just like he had every Tuesday or Friday morning in the last few weeks, at precisely eight oâclock, the glossy black carriage turned into the square exactly on time. It was market day in Retford and she always came to shop on market day. And the fact she was always so punctual also irritated him. Just for once he wished she would be late and he would be forced to attend to his first patient of the day, whose appointment was now timed for five past the hour on market days instead of on the dot of eight as usual. Another sign of how lamentable this folly was. It would be much better to do something worthwhile rather than waste his time engaging in this pointless ritual, especially as he already had a mountain of tasks to complete today. But, noâthis carriage was a creature of habit, much like its vexing occupant, and it slowed to a stop just past the window of Joeâs surgery as it always did. To torture him.
