A Well Pleasured Lady

New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd brings you romance, intrigue, and passion in her most boldly sexual story yet! A WELL PLEASURED LADY is not for the timid... Prim, plain, desperately virtuous Lady Mary Fairchild stares at the seductive gentleman and wonders--does he remember the night they met? Surely not. In the ten years since, she left behind her youthful impetuousness and transformed herself into a housekeeper, disguising her beauty beneath a servant's dour clothing. But Sebastian Durant, Viscount Whitfield, recognizes Mary as a Fairchild, one of his family's bitter enemies. When he demands her help recovering a stolen diary, she dares not refuse him. When he proposes they masquerade as a betrothed couple, loyalty forces her to agree. And when the restraint between them shatters and pleasure became an obsession, Mary has to trust a powerful man who could send her to the gallows...or love her through eternity.

"That letter was quite a shock," Lady Valery said. "What letter?" Mary asked. "The blackmail letter." Lady Valery dusted her fingers together as if the mere mention made them feel dirty. "Does your housekeeper know anything about that?" Lord Whitfield showed his doubt with his nasty half smile and his skeptical tone. "I have free access to everything here!" Mary wanted to convince him of her innocence in this matter, at least. "Why would I have stolen a diary when I could have had jewels?" "The diary is worth more than the crown jewels," he said.

She took a long breath and with a courtesy born of desperation, said, "There is always a house party at Fairchild Manor." "I haven't been invited," he said. "Do you think I have?" "Of course not. The Fairchilds don't know where you are." He observed her closely. "I wonder why." Panic writhed in the pit of her stomach. She'd trained herself to listen when the occasional guests visited, and never had she heard the name of Guinevere Mary Fairchild mentioned as a fugitive from justice. But this man demanded that she revive Mary's vanished spirit, and with it, the specter of disgrace, imprisonment, and death. "I can be no help to you. When my father died, we begged my grandfather for help and he refused us. There's no reason for the family to welcome us now." "Us?" Funny. She was usually more discreet. "Hadden and me. My brother and me. As I said, the Fairchilds would not welcome me." Clearly he realized her discomfort, but this was a man who liked to have the upper hand. He relaxed back into the upholstered Chippendale chair. She comprehended his scheme. Thinking her uncowed by the threat of arrest, he threatened her with himself. Beneath the thin white linen of his shirt, she could see a thatch of dark hair over a well-muscled chest, and his shoulders resembled a prize-fighter's more than a nobleman's. His face...well, she'd seen executioners less austere. Yes, he was threatening her. "I can't help you." "But you must, my dear. Half of the town has been invited, including some very powerful men. I have no doubt the exchange of diary for money will occur during the party. I'll use you as a distraction while I search for the diary, and that distraction will be a pervasive one." He leaned forward, his eyes as gray and cold as the night fog she feared. "You see, you are going to be my betrothed."