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234 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 1, 1992
She was unable to resist his charms, though for the sake of her first love, she fervently wished she could.Deirdre's first love is poetry. So although there is A RIVAL for her hand, there really isn't a love triangle (if anyone was worried).
There was something about him which seemed to call out to her, irresistibly drawing her attention. The man turned his head slightly and Deirdre felt as if an invisible hand squeezed her heart within her.WHAM! Insta-love!
... Deirdre was beginning to realize what had befallen her: she had been smitten by that cherubic archer himself, Cupid. The shaft had struck with all the force and unexpectedness the little deity was famous for, and undoubtedly would be as impossible to extract.
There was an intelligence in her eyes, her expression, that made him wish to know her better, but he really could not be sure after less than half an hour's conversation whether it truly existed or not. She could be as stupid as a cow for all he had been able to discover so far.
But she was certainly prettier than one, he could not help thinking with a smile. Remembering her face, the way she turned her head, he felt a warm glow coursing through him. Was this love? He had heard the poets describe it so, but had never quite believed in it for mere mortals like himself.