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Renowned gamester, and the first to own that he is untroubled by a romantic disposition, Max Ravenscar regards all eligible females with indifference. But when he learns that his young cousin Adrian is bent on marrying Deborah Grantham, beautiful mistress of her aunt's gaming house, he meets an opponent in whom all his experience of risk and gambles finds him totally unprepared.
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“I only called you a hussy because I thought you were too much of a hussy to marry my nephew, but you’re just the right amount of hussy to marry me, so I guess sorry I called you all those horrible names!”
Not my favorite Heyer. The risk with an enemies-into-lovers plot is that you might do too good a job at establishing enmity and then the reader is left wondering where on earth the love part came from. Slap him instead of kissing him, Deb, he’s the worst!