This book. Oh this book!!! LOLOLOLOLI have no clue where the idea to write a historical romance in today's times came to Fraser, but I glad it did.I give you, Emilia Pembroke, Lady. 28 years old, back home for the summer from school. Millie is an experiment in social awkwardness if I ever saw (read) on. She says the wrong things, not because she doesn't know what to say, but because she has no filter. She almost always has a certain double entendre in her words and is sassy beyond belief.There’s a long pause after we both pull away. Initially, I’m too dizzy with happiness to do anything but smile. Then I remember what I was going to do before our romantic exchange and, being me again, there is no hesitation between remembering and saying it aloud. ‘Would this be a bad moment to say that I really want to suck your cock?’ Blair chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘I really do love you.’ ‘Is that a “yes”?’ ‘What are you waiting for?’OrMother snaps into action, grabbing hold of my arm. She’s certainly alive now. It’s like someone has lifted the haze and told her to get on with it before I weasel my way out and bring down the entire empire. ‘And, pray tell, how long does it take to drive from Knightsbridge to Kensington?’ ‘Probably the time it takes for Shakespeare to travel here so he can ask for his language back. “Pray tell”, indeed.’And her thoughts are hilarious:Ten minutes later, a white-haired man in a grey suit approaches and, for a moment, I’m convinced it’s him. But it soon becomes apparent that he’s here for the lady next to me. It’s like a geriatric version of Snow White: he leans down, kisses her on the cheek and, suddenly, she’s alive again. It’s sort of sweet, if you discount the drool and the smell of Old Spice.At the airport Blair Baxter - butler, 29 years old - picks her up (or should I say collects her?). Millie doesn't believe him that he's their butler (her mother doesn't have one in her London home) and only after confirmation from Lady Silsbury, she goes along with him. Needless to say that puns, banter, sarcasm and downright rudeness accompany the ride, and subsequent weeks.Here are a few:‘Look, just think about what I said. Believe it or not, I’m not trying to be cruel.’ He stands tall, exuding his particular brand of confidence all over again. ‘Enjoy your treat, m’lady.’ ‘Like that’s even possible, thanks to your addition of this phallic fruit!’ I hold up the sundae as if doing so demonstrates everything that’s wrong with this situation. He ascends the stairs, smiling as he looks over his shoulder. ‘Sorry it’s so mushy. I know how much you prefer things to be rock hard.’Did I mention I looooove Blair?Better to have fucked and lost than never having fucked at all.