What tickled my fancy: Same great old skool excitement, now with 40% less hero rapiness than my last Sara Craven book!
What ticked me off: "I've never forced a woman, blah blah blah, don't intend to blah blah." So. Sick. Of. That. Line. And warning: there's a direct correlation between how often a Harlequin Presents hero says he'll never rape the heroine and how likely he is to actually do it.
Who might like this: Readers who enjoy some hero obsession and sufferin'.
We were on our way to the gym and my husband was using my kindle, so I randomly grabbed a book from Mt. Harlequin. By coincidence, it turned out to be a Sara Craven book from 1982. I was a little dubious after my last Craven encounter, but went with it.
I was immediately swept up in the story, as Nicola is persuaded to impersonate her friend Teresita, who's supposed to be escorted to meet her unwanted fiance, the undoubtedly awful Don Luis. Her plans to slip away are foiled and the next thing she knows, she's married to the undoubtedly super-hot Luis herself and stuck with his awful relatives in his beautiful hacienda. (The story is set in Mexico and there's local color up the wazoo.) Since she's sure she's just going to be sitting around making babies while Luis lives it up with other women, Nicola refuses to let him see how much she's attracted to him.
We only get Nicola's point of view, but Luis's comes through handily, and it becomes clear that he's got strong feelings for her which are making him sad and vulnerable. Awww! He ends up very unhappy about how badly he's treated her, just as it should be, and I almost swooned when I got to this line: "Luis was there, lying downwards actoss the bed his face buried in her pillow." This is old skool done right. B