The Billionaire's Runaway Nurse

The Elusive Duchess: Ronan's Quest for Love and Legacy

Ronan Ironheart, twelfth Duke of Evermore, concluded that no woman in the world could meet the requirements he set for his would-be duchess.

“Damn it,” he muttered. Finishing his second glass of brandy, he stroked his pet cat, Pharaoh, an elegant Siamese cat who never tolerated anyone other than Ronan.

“What is wrong with you? " Oliver Sinclair, Ronan's cousin asked, confused by Ronan's sudden curse. They discussed Ronan's recent purchase of a mine in Egypt, but it was clear that Ronan's mind was elsewhere at the moment. Oliver thought about that face for a while longer. Ronan bought it for no other reason than a fleeting suspicion that the pits might yield treasure, buying it right in front of a second interested buyer. Not only did miners discover emeralds in these dark, dank caves in Egypt, but authorities also claim it is one of the richest mines ever discovered. Almost overnight, Ironheart's vast wealth tripled.

Yes, in many ways Ronan had an interesting life, even as a child. One day, as he and Oliver were running through a field of wildflowers, Ronan discovered small diamonds scattered among the trampled flowers. Only Ronan Ironheart could find the jewels scattered among the broken grass. From then on, everything he touched turned into wealth.

Sipping his glass of brandy, Oliver felt a familiar flash of jealousy wash over him, but since he bore no ill will towards his cousin, he didn't feel the least bit guilty for his lack of jealousy. He had long ago decided that only a saint of the highest rank could resist coveting the title, wealth, and power of the illustrious Duke of Evermore. He leaned toward the satin chair next to the fireplace. “I often think you were born under a lucky star, Ronan. You've never even been stung by a wasp, remember? Every time we encountered vicious creatures, we were almost blown away by the wind. Well, even the snakes we found that day near the motel slithered out of your way!

Ronan glanced at his cousin, a happy-go-lucky guy with thick sandy hair that was always tousled and shiny golden eyes that were almost always filled with a mixture of mischief and cynicism. A relative of Ronan's mother's side, Oliver did not have a drop of Ironheart blood or any other legitimate claim to a place in the British aristocracy, but their unshakable bond was which no member of the nobility ever dared to do. ignore. Oliver is Ronan's only family.“Ronan? Do you remember snakes?

"Snake?" Ronan frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

“I could ask you the same thing,” Oliver replied, flashing a lopsided smile. “Actually, I think so.”

Ronan grabbed the bottle of cognac.

“Women,” Oliver suddenly guessed. “The lack of a duchess always pushes you to drink. Just thinking about this elusive woman makes you a true beer knight."

"Oliver, I'm not in the mood to hear about your escapades. Besides, the topic of my love life is not worth discussing.

“Devil, you say!" Oliver laughed loudly. “Ronan, your love life is the most talked-about topic across the UK. Heck, I've even heard that Queen Victoria herself once wondered why you couldn't choose a bride from the bevy of beauties that the season produces year after year."

"Indeed."

“Cedric Thornton can't wait for you to get married.”

“Cedric Thornton,” Ronan said, reflecting on the notorious womanizer. “So he wants a chance to seduce my wife, right?”

“It is his hobby, as you well know. Last month he had persuaded Lord Harrington's new wife to meet him in the garden at a small gathering organized by the Dunmores. Sir Geoffrey Harrington still doesn't know more. So did Reginald Montague. Rumor has it that Evelyn Montague continues to see Cedric as much as possible.

“If Cedric Thornton dares look at my wife…”

“Seducing a woman who doesn't exist is quite a feat.”

Ronan poured more cognac. Alcohol won't help you get a wife, but it will certainly help you forget that you don't have one.

Accustomed to having whatever he wanted at the moment of inspiration, he simply couldn't understand why the mundane task of choosing a duchess seemed so exasperating.

He had been secretly watching the company's wedding ceremonies since his twenty-eighth birthday, when he decided it was time to get married and have an heir. He is now thirty-two years old and has yet to meet a woman who is right for him. Hell, finding the perfect woman should have been as easy a goal as anything he'd ever attempted.

And even…

He shook his head. “It would be much easier to find a wish basket,” he muttered. Running his fingers through his wavy hair, he glanced around.

The Green Room is a tall room, with an intricately carved ceiling supported by pink marble columns. Four exquisite crystal chandeliers shine down from the ceiling, sparkling light dances on silk curtains and gorgeous gilded chairs, all in a warm moss green color.

This room is his parents' favorite room. Too bad the queens rarely stay home long enough to enjoy it to the fullest, Ronan thought.

“You know, Ronan,” Oliver said, “you have a reputation for being a completely impossible man to please. Many people say that if the goddess of love and beauty appeared before you, you would reject her." He got up from the sofa and joined his cousin in front of the large window. Careful not to stand too close to Paraoh, who was looking at him with icy blue eyes that held the promise of violence, he poured himself a glass of Ronan's brandy. “Everyone try to imagine

The woman will eventually appear in your life and seduce you. And it's not just your co-workers who are asking questions, it's also your tenants and servants.

Ronan turned the stem of his wine glass, watching the cognac flow down the thin rim of the glass. “I'm happy to know that I gave people such entertainment.”

"Entertainment?" Oliver smiled wryly. “You don't know the meaning of this word. You have no other interests other than those relating to the Ironheart estate.

“Except for the need to have an heir, I am satisfied with my current life."

"You don't have a life. And if you don't mind me saying…”

"Oliver!" Ronan placed his glass on a silver tray. “Since when do you care whether your perishable meddling bothers me or not? It becomes increasingly clear that you have other things to do. If I wasn't stupid enough to consider you a friend, I would have kicked you out of this house so I could enjoy some peace.

Happily, Oliver continued to fight, reprimanding his cousin at least once a month.

TO BE CONTINUED...