By Karen Hawkins
"**In this hot romantic event, a bold Highland lass performs a high-stakes video game to maintain the house she loves...but finally ends up wasting her middle instead.**
When her father gambles away the relations property to darkly risky Lord Dougal MacLean, Sophia MacFarlane is set to take advantage of her wiles to regain it. pressured to stake the single factor she has left -- her advantage -- she desperately hopes her ability can restrict her losses to some kisses...no subject how hotly tempting Dougal seems to be.
Dougal MacLean understands that Sophia has a few trick up her sleeve, yet he can't face up to the problem -- or her ravishing good looks. So whilst she proposes a card online game with most original stakes, Dougal is thrilled to just accept. yet because the video game ends, Dougal and Sophia detect they've wagered whatever much more worthy -- their hearts.
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Extra resources for To Catch a Highlander (MacLean Curse, Book 3)
To mention their names even now might tarnish the reputations of their survivors. After dark only evening dress was acceptableformal dress. How my father was tolerated I don't know, as he never owned a tuxedo. Exceptions were made, obviously. Mavericks have always been popular in Texas. The advertisements in those early books of social directory not only echo many memories among the older generation but are of special interest in revealing that women were very much into business in those early years as dressmakers, milliners, teachers of music and dancing and voice and "miniature painting" and, of course, hairdressers, with their various shops and studios which were all downtown.
I was traveling from Texarkana and Shreveport, Louisiana, on the east, across all of Texas westward to Lubbock, Amarillo, Pecos, Plainview, and Clovis, New Mexico. In between were Midland, Odessa, Abilene, Wichita Falls. From north Texas and Oklahoma my book trail went south to Waco, Austin, San Antonio, Houstonwith programs at the historic Shamrock HotelBeaumont, Corpus Christi, and McAllen on the border in the citrus valley where I would get orchard-fresh grapefruit to bring home. Many of those trips were made by train, the old Cotton Belt going east, the Texas and Pacific and the Burlington going west.
At the University of Chicago I had the feeling that I was at a gourmet cafeteria, with every field of study irresistible. I took all the undergraduate courses in anthropology, and dreamed of becoming an archaeologist for treasures of knowledge of the past, like the great Franz Boas who came to lecture at the developing Field Museum of Natural History and which our class attended. But my fascination was with philosophy as taught by the noted T. V. Smith, a veritable Niagara of wit and scholarship.