One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club Trilogy #1)

One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club Trilogy #1)

by Tessa Dare

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In One Dance with a Duke—the first novel in Tessa Dare’s delightful new trilogy—secrets and scandals tempt the irresistible rogues of the Stud Club to gamble everything for love.
A handsome and reclusive horse breeder, Spencer Dumarque, the fourth Duke of Morland, is a member of the exclusive Stud Club, an organization so select it has only ten members—yet membership is attainable to anyone with luck. And Spencer has plenty of it, along with an obsession with a prize horse, a dark secret, and, now, a reputation as the dashing “Duke of Midnight.” Each evening he selects one lady for a breathtaking midnight waltz. But none of the women catch his interest, and nobody ever bests the duke—until Lady Amelia d’Orsay tries her luck.

In a moment of desperation, the unconventional beauty claims the duke’s dance and unwittingly steals his heart. When Amelia demands that Spencer forgive her scapegrace brother’s debts, she never imagines that her game of wits and words will lead to breathless passion and a steamy proposal. Still, Spencer is a man of mystery, perhaps connected to the shocking murder of the Stud Club’s founder. Will Amelia lose her heart in this reckless wager or win everlasting love?

From the Paperback edition.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780345518866
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Publication date: 05/25/2010
Series: Stud Club Trilogy Series , #1
Sold by: Random House
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 400
Sales rank: 23,256
File size: 3 MB

About the Author

Tessa Dare a part-time librarian, full-time mommy, and swing-shift writer. She makes her home in Southern California, where she shares a cozy, cluttered bungalow with her husband, their two children, and a dog.

From the Paperback edition.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

London, June 1817

Blackberry glaze.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Amelia d’Orsay suppressed a small cry of jubilation. Even at a rout like this one, a well-bred lady’s abrupt shout of joy was likely to draw notice, and Amelia did not care to explain herself to the crush of young ladies surrounding her. Especially when the reason for her delight was not a triumph at the card table or a proposal of marriage, but rather the completion of a dinner menu.

She could imagine it now. “Oh, Lady Amelia,” one of these young misses would say, “only you could think of food at a time like this.”

Well, it wasn’t as though Amelia had planned to stand in a ballroom, dreaming of menus for their family summer holiday. But she’d been puzzling for weeks over a new sauce for braised pheasant, to replace the same old applejack reduction. Something sweet, yet tart; surprising, yet familiar; inventive, yet frugal. At last, the answer had come to her. Blackberry glaze. Strained, of course. Ooh, perhaps mulled with cloves.

Resolving to enter it in her menu book later, she swept the imaginary dish aside and compressed her grin to a half-smile. Summer at Briarbank would now officially be perfect.

Mrs. Bunscombe brushed past in a flounce of scarlet silk. “It’s half-eleven,” the hostess sang. “Nearly midnight.”

Nearly midnight. Now there was a thought to quell her exuberance.

A cherub-faced debutante swaddled in tulle grasped Amelia by the wrist. “Any moment now. How can you remain so calm? If he chooses me tonight, I just know I’ll swoon.”

Amelia sighed. And so it began. As it did at every ball, when half-eleven ticked past.

“You needn’t worry about making conversation,” a young lady dressed in green satin said. “He scarcely utters so much as a word.”

“Are we even certain he speaks English? Wasn’t he raised in Abyssinia or . . .”

“No, no. Lower Canada. Of course he speaks English. My brother plays cards with him.” The second girl lowered her voice. “But there is something rather primitive about him, don’t you think? I think it’s the way he moves.”

“I think it’s the gossip you’re heeding,” Amelia said sensibly.

“He waltzes like a dream,” a third girl put in. “When I danced with him, my feet scarcely skimmed the floor. And he’s ever so handsome up close.”

Amelia gave her a patient smile. “Indeed?”

At the opening of the season, the reclusive and obscenely wealthy Duke of Morland had finally entered society. A few weeks later, he had all London dancing to his tune. The duke arrived at every ball at the stroke of midnight. He selected a single partner from among the available ladies. At the conclusion of one set, he would escort the lady in to supper, and then . . . disappear.

Before two weeks were out, the papers had dubbed him “the Duke of Midnight,” and every hostess in London was jostling to invite His Grace to a ball. Unmarried ladies would not dream of promising the supper set to any other partner, for fear of missing their chance at a duke. To amplify the dramatic effect, hostesses positioned timepieces in full view and instructed orchestras to begin the set at the very hour of twelve. And it went without saying, the set concluded with a slow, romantic waltz.

The nightly spectacle held the entire ton in delicious, knuckle-gnawing thrall. At every ball, the atmosphere thickened with perfume and speculation as the hour of twelve approached. It was like watching medieval knights attempting to wrest Excalibur from the stone. Surely one of these evenings, the gossips declared, some blushing ingénue would get a proper grip on the recalcitrant bachelor . . . and a legend would be born.

Legend indeed. There was no end of stories about him. Where a man of his rank and fortune was involved, there were always stories.

“I hear he was raised barefoot and heathen in the Canadian wilderness,” said the first girl.

“I hear he was barely civilized when his uncle took him in,” said the second. “And his wild behavior gave the old duke an apoplexy.”

The lady in green murmured, “My brother told me there was an incident, at Eton. Some sort of scrape or brawl . . . I don’t know precisely. But a boy nearly died, and Morland was expelled for it. If they sent down a duke’s heir, you know it must have been dreadful.”

“You’ll not believe what I’ve heard,” Amelia said, widening her eyes. The ladies perked, leaning in close. “I hear,” she whispered, “that by the light of the full moon, His Grace transforms into a ravening hedgehog.”

When her companions finished laughing, she said aloud, “Really, I can’t believe he’s so interesting as to merit this much attention.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d danced with him.”

Amelia shook her head. She had watched this scene unfold time and again over the past few weeks, admittedly with amusement. But she never expected—or desired—to be at the center of it. It wasn’t sour grapes, truly it wasn’t. What other ladies saw as intriguing and romantic, she took for self-indulgent melodrama. Really, an unmarried, wealthy, handsome duke who felt the need to command more female attention? He must be the most vain, insufferable sort of man.

And the ladies of his choosing—all flouncy, insipid girls in their first or second seasons. All petite, all pretty. None of them anything like Amelia.

Oh, perhaps there was a hint of bitterness to it, after all.

Really, when a lady dangled on the outer cusp of marital eligibility, as she did, society ought to allow her a quiet, unannounced slide into spinsterhood. It rather galled her, to feel several years’ worth of rejection revisited upon her night after night, as the infamous duke entered at the stroke of midnight, and at twelve-oh-one his eyes slid straight past her to some primping chit with more beauty than brains.

Not that he had reason to notice her. Her dowry barely scraped the floorboards of the “respectable” range, and even in her first season, she’d never been a great beauty. Her eyes were a trifle too pale, and she blushed much too easily. And at the age of six-and-twenty, she’d come to accept that she would always be a little too plump.

The girls suddenly scattered, like the flighty things they were.

A deep whisper came from behind her shoulder. “You look ravishing, Amelia.”

Sighing, she wheeled to face the speaker. “Jack. What is it you’re after?”

Pressing a hand to his lapel, he pulled an offended expression. “Must I be after something? Can’t a fellow pay his dearest sister a compliment without falling under suspicion?”

“Not when the fellow in question is you. And it’s no compliment to be called your dearest sister. I’m your only sister. If you’re after my purse, you must come up with something better than that.” She spoke in a light, teasing tone, hoping against all previous evidence that he would protest: No, Amelia. This time, I’m not after your purse. I’ve ceased gambling and drinking, and I’ve thrown over those ne’er-do-well “friends” of mine. I’m returning to University. I’ll take orders in the Church, just as I promised our dying mother. And you truly do look lovely tonight.

Eyes flicking toward the crowd, he lowered his voice. “A few bob. That’s all I need.”

Her chest deflated. Not even midnight, and already his eyes held that wild, liquor-flared spark that indicated he was on the verge of doing something spectacularly ill-conceived.

Steering him by the elbow, she left the young ladies to titter amongst themselves and guided her brother through the nearest set of doors. They stepped into the crescent of yellow light shining through the transom window. The night air closed around them, cloying and humid.

“I don’t have anything,” she lied.

“A few shillings for the hack, Amelia.” He grabbed for the reticule dangling from her wrist. “We’re off to the theater, a gang of us.”

Off to the theater, her eye. Off to the gaming hells, more likely. She clutched the beaded drawstring pouch to her bosom. “And how will I get home, then?”

“Why, Morland will take you.” He winked. “Right after your dance. I’ve two pounds sterling on you tonight.”

Wonderful. Another two pounds she’d have to siphon from her pin money. “At tremendously long odds, I’m sure.”

“Don’t speak like that.” A touch grazed her arm. Jack’s expression was suddenly, unexpectedly sincere. “He’d be damned lucky to have you, Amelia. There’s no lady your equal in that room.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Since their brother Hugh’s death at Waterloo, Jack had changed, and not for the better. But in rare flashes, that dear, sensitive brother she loved would surface. She wanted so desperately to gather him close and hold tight to him for weeks, months . . . however long it took, to coax the old Jack out from this brittle shell.

“Come now. Be a sweet sister, and lend me a crown or two. I’ll send a runner to Laurent’s, and he’ll send that garish new landau for you. You’ll be driven home in the finest style his copper heiress can afford.”

“Her name is Winifred. She’s the Countess of Beauvale now, and you ought to speak of her with respect. It’s her fortune that purchased Michael’s commission and supports young William at school. It’s thanks to her and Laurent that I even have a home.”

“And I’m the worthless ingrate who brings the family nothing but disgrace. I know, I know.” His flinty gaze clashed with a forced smile. “It’s worth a few coins to be rid of me, isn’t it?”

“Can’t you understand? I don’t want to be rid of you at all. I love you, you fool.” She smoothed that incorrigible wisp of hair that always curled at his left temple. “Won’t you let me help you, Jack?”

“Of course. If you’ll start with a shilling or two.”

With clumsy fingers, she loosened the strings of her reticule. “I will give you everything I have, on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You must promise me you’ll join us this summer, at Briarbank.”

The d’Orsays always summered at Briarbank—a rambling stone cottage overlooking the River Wye, down the slope from the ruins of Beauvale Castle. Amelia had been planning this summer’s holiday for months, down to the last damask tablecloth and saucer of currant jelly. Briarbank was the answer to everything, she knew it. It had to be.

Hugh’s death had devastated the entire family, but Jack most of all. Of all her brothers, the two of them had been the fastest friends. Hugh had been just one year older, but several years wiser, and his serious bent had always balanced Jack’s wilder personality. Without that check on his impulsive nature, Amelia feared Jack’s grief and recklessness were conspiring to disaster.

What he needed was love, and time to heal. Time spent far from Town, and close to home and family—what remained of both. Here in London, Jack was surrounded by temptation, constantly pressured to keep pace with his spendthrift peers. At Briarbank, he would surely return to his good-humored self. Young William would come on his break from school. Michael would still be at sea, of course, but Laurent and Winifred would join them, at least for a week or two.

And Amelia would be the perfect hostess. Just as Mama had always been. She would fill every room with great vases of snapdragons, arrange theatricals and parlor games, serve braised pheasant with blackberry glaze.

She would make everyone happy, by sheer force of will. Or bribery, if she must.

“I’ve a crown and three shillings here,” she said, extracting the coins from the pouch, “and six pounds more saved at home.” Saved, scrimped, scraped together, one penny at a time. “It’s yours, all of it—but you must promise me August at Briarbank.”

Jack tsked. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who? Who didn’t tell me what?”

“Laurent. We’re not opening the cottage this summer. It was just settled this week. We’re letting it out.”

“Letting it out?” Amelia felt as though all the blood had been let from her veins. Suddenly dizzy, she clutched her brother’s arm. “Briarbank, let out? To strangers?”

“Well, not to strangers.We’ve put the word around at the clubs and expect inquiries from several good families. It’s a plum holiday cottage, you know.”

“Yes,” she bit out. “Yes, I do know. It’s so ideal, the d’Orsay family has summered there for centuries. Centuries, Jack. Why would we dream of leasing it out?”

“Haven’t we outgrown the pall-mall and tea biscuits routine? It’s dull as tombs out there. Halfway to Ireland, for God’s sake.”

“Dull? What on earth can you mean? You used to live for summers there, angling on the river and—” Comprehension struck, numbing her to the toes. “Oh, no.” She dug her fingers into his arm. “How much did you lose? How much do you owe?”

His eyes told her he’d resigned all pretense. “Four hundred pounds.”

“Four hundred! To whom?”

“To Morland.”

“The Duke of Midni—” Amelia bit off the absurd nickname. She refused to puff the man’s notoriety further. “But he’s not even arrived yet. How did you manage to lose four hundred pounds to him, when he’s not even here?”

“Not tonight. Days ago now. That’s why I must leave. He’ll be here any moment, and I can’t face him until I’ve made good on the debt.”

Amelia could only stare at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, I can’t bear it. I was holding my own until Faraday put his token in play. That’s what brought Morland to the table, drove the betting sky-high. He’s out to gather all ten, you know.”

“All ten of what? All ten tokens?”

“Yes, of course. The tokens are everything.” Jack made an expansive gesture. “Come now, you can’t be so out of circulation as that. It’s only the most elite gentlemen’s club in London.”

When she only blinked at him, he prompted, “Harcliffe. Osiris. One stud horse, ten brass tokens. You’ve heard of the club, I know you have.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You seem to be telling me you’ve wagered our ancestral home against a brass token. And lost.”

“I was in for hundreds already; I couldn’t back down. And my cards . . . Amelia, I swear to you, they were unbeatable cards.”

“Except that they weren’t.”

He gave a fatalistic shrug. “What’s done is done. If I had some other means of raising the funds, I would. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but there’s always next year.”

“Yes, but—” But next year was a whole year away. God only knew what trouble would find Jack in the meantime. “There must be another way. Ask Laurent for the money.”

“You know he can’t give it.”

Of course he was right. Their eldest brother had married prudently, almost sacrificially. The family had been desperate for funds at the time, and Winifred had come with bags of money from her mining-magnate father. The trouble was, the bags of money came cinched tightly with strings, and only Laurent’s father-in-law could loosen them. The old man would never authorize the use of four hundred pounds to pay off a gaming debt.

“I have to leave before Morland arrives,” he said. “You understand.”

Jack unlooped the reticule from her limp wrist, and she did not fight him as he shook the coins into his palm. Yes, she understood. Even if nothing remained of their fortune, the d’Orsays would cling to their pride.

“Have you at least learned your lesson now?” she said quietly.

He vaulted the low terrace rail. Rattling the coins in his palm, he backed away into the garden. “You know me, Amelia. I never was any good with lessons. I just copied my slate from Hugh’s.”

As she watched her brother disappear into the shadows, Amelia hugged her arms across her chest.

What cruel turn of events was this? Briarbank, rented for the summer! All the happiness stored up in those cobbled floors and rustic hearths and bundles of lavender hanging from the rafters—wasted on strangers. All her elaborate menus and planned excursions, for naught. Without that cottage, the d’Orsay family had no true center. Her brother had nowhere to recover from his grief.

And somehow more lowering than all this: She had no place of her own.

Accepting spinsterhood had not been easy for Amelia. But she could resign herself to the loneliness and disappointment, she told herself, so long as she had summers at that drafty stone cottage. Those few months made the rest of the year tolerable. Whilst her friends collected lace and linens for their trousseaux, Amelia contented herself by embroidering seat covers for Briarbank. As they entertained callers, she entertained thoughts of begonias in the window box. When she—an intelligent, thoughtful, well-bred lady—was thrown over nightly for her younger, prettier, lack-witted counterparts, she could fool herself into happiness by thinking of blackberry glaze.

Lord, the irony. She wasn’t much different from Jack. She’d impulsively wagered all her dreams on a pile of mortar and shale. And now she’d lost.

Alone on the terrace, she started to tremble. Destiny clanged against her hopes, beating them down one hollow ring at a time.

Somewhere inside, a clock was tolling midnight.

From the Paperback edition.

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One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club Trilogy #1) 4.2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 193 reviews.
harstan More than 1 year ago
In 1817 the Ton knows the strange behavioral pattern of the reclusive primitive "Canadian" Duke Spencer Dumarque as the Duke of Midnight; he arrives as the clock strikes twelve at a bash to dance one waltz with a different female each time and then leaves immediately. Not quite as well known as his dashing nocturnal spin is that he is one of the ten members of the Stud Club who have a wager on a horse on going. Rubenesque Lady Amelia d'Orsay decides to be the chosen one at the latest ball by brazenly selecting him. When she notices her waltz partner seems ill, she shows her concern. He is stunned by a twit caring for someone else and abruptly carries her from the gala to her amazement. He is in love and proposes, but before accepting she wants to know more about the enigmatic Duke of Morland. He is four tokens to the prize of wining the thoroughbred (ten tokens wins the steed) but one of his Stud comrades has been murdered assumingly for his tokens. Amelia suggests hosting a Stud Club party, but her brother Jack arrives with tokens before vanishing with his ward. This is a great regency romantic mystery starring a flawed courageous heroine and a mysterious perhaps even blemished hero. Faster than the prized thoroughbred, this super story line hooks the reader from the moment Dashing Duke Dumarque runs off with Amelia and never takes a respite even for the kissing scenes. Fans will enjoy this strong romantic suspense thriller as the opening of the stud Club is a winner. Harriet Klausner
AvidReaderToo More than 1 year ago
Too many romance books these days have unbelievable characters, repetitive narration, and overly dramatic dialogue, and trite love scenes. This book has none of these things! Finally, an author with some intelligence who writes real stories. The impass between the two lead characters is typical of men and women, but where most stories will show each character holding their ground stubbornly and then making some sudden dramatic turnaround in the last 5 pages, this book shows us the development of their relationship through the small compromises and concessions each character makes. Finally, a romance worth reading.
addictedtoloveLC More than 1 year ago
I loved this story! I love that Amelia who was practically two years "on the shelf" who could not really be called a beauty in one single night convinced the hero to marry her. Amelia's strong sense of family & being devoted to her brothers even though at times did not deserve her love was what appealed to our hero. Tessa Dare really fleshed out these characters very well, and has been the best book I have read by her to date! Highly Recommended! It has made it to my top 10.
BeeMac More than 1 year ago
I simply loved all three books in the Stud Club trilogy. I highly recommend these wonderful books. I have since read another book by Tessa Dare, and this trilogy is no fluke. "One Dance with a Duke" is the starting point. The characters are very in-depth and believable.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I loved her goddess of the hunt series and now cant wait to read the rest of this series. It's real charchters with real faults that accept each other for who they are. Very very good
grandcentral247 More than 1 year ago
A steamy romance you won't want to put down...with an incredably written on the corner of your seat drama... cant wait for the next book! If you enjoy Mrs Lisa Kleypas you will fall in love with Mrs Dare!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
My highest compliment; Great Storytelling! Loved it from cover to cover.
annaht More than 1 year ago
I wasn't expecting a great read, but it was a fun read. Entertaining and enjoyable.
Phyl12 More than 1 year ago
Tessa dares love stories r always a good read. This wasnt her best but still really good
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
teckelvik on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed this. The biggest thing it had going for it was that the heroine, Amelia, is not an idiot. She is smart, and she stands up for herself. She is competent within her area of expertise - she knows about running a household. This plays into the plot in a very believable way. The hero is also nicely done. He isn't inexplicably charmed by the Magic Hoohah. His problems are believable and well described, and his actions make sense. The relationship between the two is also nicely described. It progresses in a beliveable way, without artificial dramatics.Supporting characters are also well done. This is transparently the set up for a trilogy, and it looks like the current hero is the most interesting of the three. The "first chapter teaser" for the second volume didn't grab me at all, but I'll give it a chance, based on this.
knittingmomof3 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
From my blog...I am rather excited to share with my readers the first book in a trilogy I will be reviewing by Tessa Dare. The first book in the trilogy, One Dance With A Duke, is the book I shall be reviewing today. In July and August, I will be reviewing the second and third books in the trilogy, Twice Tempted By A Rogue and Three Nights With A Scoundrel, respectively. I am very excited about this tour and hope my readers will be as well.The novel begins in 1817 London with Lady Amelia d'Orsay placed in the position to beg Spencer Dumarque, the fourth Duke of Moreland, to forgive her brother Jack's gambling debts yet she learns far more than she bargained for when she did the unthinkable and chose the infamous "Duke of Midnight" to waltz with, rather than he choosing her. Moreland's nickname has been well earned as he chooses a different lady to waltz with each night as the clock strikes midnight. While they were discussing the fate of Jack's debts they are interrupted with the news that the founder of the Stud Club, Leo Chatwick, has been murdered, leaving his twin sister Lily alone in the world. While Amelia was not unaccustomed to dealing with her brother Jack's debts, however murder, especially of a prominent young man, and the inner workings of the Stud Club are all new to Amelia. As for the Duke of Moreland, there has always been widespread rumours and speculations about him, as vast as his temperaments appear to be. Amelia makes a brilliant heroine for she is headstrong, not too proud, defiant, quick witted and intelligent. The perfect match for the Duke of Moreland.Dare's characters come to life on the pages of the book as do the scenes, due in large part to her expansive imagery. I personally enjoyed how the story was told through varying viewpoints within each chapter rather than alternating the chapters with a speaker. One Dance With A Duke will enchant the reader, pulling the reader deeper into the story and the twisting plot filled with murder, mystery, intrigue and of course, romance. Romance readers will be greatly pleased with this novel as well as those fond of period novels and a good mystery. I highly recommend One Dance With A Duke and eagerly look forward to reading the second novel. Be sure to stop back in July for my review of Twice Tempted by A Rogue.
Jac8604 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Simply a great Regency - charming, unique and occasionally funny. I especially liked that although the hero is an Alpha-male and the heroine is naturally submissive, the heroine still manages to do it all on her terms. If she follows his orders, it's because she wants to and she doesn't hesitate to put him in his place.
booksandwine on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I am beginning to think it is literally impossible to read One Dance With A Duke by Tessa Dare without a silly grin. Now, this book was my first foray into romance, a genre which I sort of had this tendancy to ridicule. I know, I know, not nice to make fun of heaving bosoms and what not. However, I guess that's what happens when I read one Danielle Steele book and judge a whole genre based off of it. Guys, I would never do that to the YA category -- read one book and judge all YA based off that book. So, romance, I am sorry.One Dance With A Duke is a historical fiction set in the 18th Century, right around Waterloo. Amelia D'Orsay is a spinster with a ne'er do well brother who gambles away her pin money. Spencer, on the other hand, is this megarich duke of Morland. He hangs around balls at midnight and dances with just one woman. OF COURSE Spencer and Amelia's paths cross. I know from the summary, you can guess the ending, because it is romance, and we all know how these books end. However, I'm just going to put this out there and you can agree with me or disagree, but I don't think people read romance primarily to be surprised by the ending. I think people read it for A) The steams and B) That goofy happy feeling. This sounds creepy, but these books give someone the chance to vicariously experience love. I already have love in my life, but friends, an 18th century duke my boyfriend is not.It's vastly entertaining to watch the sparks fly between Spencer and Amelia. They have this love hate relationship, and I really do enjoy their conversations, especially when they talk about books. Hello, there was a reference to Mary Wollenstonecraft. Total awesomesauce. It's interesting that reference, because the book places the two as a couple on equal footing. It shows that love does not allow for one person to dominate the other. I really enjoyed seeing this take on relationships as a partnership. I also really liked the kissing scenes. There's one part which I wish I could find in my book to quote for you which describes making out as a conversation. Yes, please sign me up for that talk. I mean, can you imagine instead of saying "we need to talk' you just kiss it out. Let me just say, when you have a super heavy, emotionally draining book like The Passage, I absolutely recommend you break it up with a romance novel. Trust me, you'll feel more mentally sound after repeated emoto-beat-downs. Don't read this expecting a book surpassing all your wildest dreams, because that's not going to happen, but if you want something smile inducing, this is totally the right book to check out.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great read
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Love Spencer and Amelia. Can't wait for the next Stud Club
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed this book. However, it ended without tying up all the loose ends. Still a good book and worth reading. Because all questions were not answered I rated it as a three.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Funny at times,, tears at times , we worth reading. Lovely love story
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Fun and cute with a great heroine.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I am going to make this review very short because the amount of disappointment I have in this book is long. The book was extremely repetitive, the story was hard to muddle through especially in the beginning, the primary characters of Amelia and Spencer seemed to lack depth and were mismatched, and it was overall a difficult read for me. The only thing that was dynamic were the love making scenes. If I could ask for a refund for this book, I would and this has been one of my favorite authors.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I enjoy Tessa Date's books and this one didn't fail to deliver. Her dialogue and characters are funny and real! Can't wait to read more!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I measure all romances against this great book. Compelling characters with realistic flaws. Details that draw the reader into their hearts and feelings. Romance not just sex. Mystery. Laughter. Worthy of re-read and re-read and re-read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago