by Liz Fielding
‘I’ll speak to Kit Fairfax,’ Brodie assured him. ‘If it’s money he’s after it’ll just be a question of haggling.’
‘Haggle all you want. Whatever it costs, it will be cheap if it keeps my daughter out of the hands of some idle layabout who’s only after her money.’
‘And if he’s actually in love with the girl?’
Her father responded with the kind of explosive, disparaging noise she had always assumed to be the colourful invention of nineteenth century novelists. Apparently not.
‘Just use whatever means necessary to ensure they don’t get married, Brodie. I’m holding you personally responsible.’
Emmy froze.
Brodie was being sent to deal with Kit?
Where was Hollingworth? She could deal with that pompous old fool with one hand tied behind her back, but suddenly Brodie’s treasured decisiveness was not so welcome and she gave a little shudder of apprehension.
The beauty of her plan had been in its simplicity. She had been convinced that nothing could possibly go wrong. Which just went to show how dumb one person could be.
Brodie tossed the folder he was carrying onto the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel while Emmy made herself as small as she could. Popping up the moment they were clear of the estate and introducing herself no longer seemed such as good idea.
Brodie might be terribly kind to girls who flashed their knickers when they climbed down drainpipes, but she was very much afraid that he wouldn’t be anything like as soft-hearted when it came to dealing with fortune hunters. Or as easy to mislead as the unimaginative Hollingworth.
Which made it imperative she get to darling Kit before Brodie could talk to him, or she had a feeling the poor lamb wouldn’t know what had hit him.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
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