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When an old friend gifted Elizabeth Lucinda Stirling a cottage on the Banks Peninsula, she leaped at the chance to leave the daily grind of newspaper life and focus on writing her novels. It was a pity that her new editor was as interested in romancing her as in editing her columns; it was more of a pity that her leaving the newspaper didn’t discourage him in his attentions; it was even more of a pity that he had a disreputable past that had ended in a broken marriage…but most of all it was a pity that Elizabeth couldn’t help liking him more than any man she had ever known, and couldn’t help longing for his company. Was Jeremy Ffoulkes still the unreliable Jeremy of the past? Or should Elizabeth gamble that his love for her was true?
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