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Dr. Walker Shaw tried to look somber and professional while accompanying His Grace, Russell, Duke of Carrington, the acting regent of the tiny country of Silvershire, as they strolled through the imposing halls of the palace toward the medical wing. After all, he was here on official business. Walker's appearance might be a tad disreputable, and his accent slow and lazy as molasses, but his credentials as a consultant with the elite Lazlo Group were sterling enough to allow him regular admittance to places mere mortals rarely visited. Places such as this.
It was not appropriate to be wearing the roguish grin of a man with nothin' but romance on his mind.
But he simply couldn't help himself. He'd been fantasizing about coming to the quaint island kingdom for seven years now, to track down and charm the exquisitely sexy and mysterious Lady Sarah — with any luck right into his bed — as he'd done so memorably all those years ago at tha ...
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