Lady Sophia has one goal: to ruin Sir Ross's perfect reputation. But first she must gain his trust. After sensual dinners and passionate stares Sophia is sure she has won his heart…but she never counted on falling in love with *him*….

Why is Lady Sophia looking for a lover?
And
could she seduce the most marriageable man in London?

Lady Sophia Sydney would do anything to ensnare the unattainable Sir Ross Cannon. Her goal -- to ruin his reputation and cause a scandal that would be the talk of all London. So she insinuates herself into his life by gaining his trust and living in his house.

Every morning, her lush presence tempts him beyond all reason...the way she bends over the table to serve him the meals she has prepared...the way her hands oh, so gently -- yet sensuously -- brush against him. Every night, she promises with her eyes -- and her body -- that the hours before dawn could be spent in unbridled passion instead of restless sleep -- if only he'd let her share his bed.

She knows he is falling more in love with her each day. But she never counted on falling in love with him. And she never dreamed he might very respectably ask for her hand in marriage...

Are you ready to be seduced by New York Times Bestselling Author
Lisa Kleypas
and her most compelling love story yet?

It had been too long since he had bedded a woman.

Sir Ross Cannon could think of no other explanation for his reaction to Sophia Sydney...a response so powerful that he was forced to sit behind his desk to conceal a sudden, uncontrollable erection. Perplexed, he stared intently at the woman, wondering why her mere presence was enough to ignite such raging heat inside him. No one ever caught him off guard this way.

She was undeniably lovely, with her honey-shaded hair and blue eyes, but she possessed a quality that surpassed physical beauty: a hint of passion contained beneath the frail gravity of her facade. Like any man, Ross was aroused more by what was concealed than by what was revealed. And clearly, Sophia Sydney was a woman of many secrets.

Silently he strove to control his sexual awareness of her, focusing on the scarred mahogany surface of his desk until the flare of heat subsided. When he was finally able to meet her unfathomable gaze, he remained quiet, having learned long ago that silence was a powerful instrument. People were uncomfortable with silence -- they usually sought to fill it, revealing much in the process.

However, Sophia did not erupt into nervous chatter as so many women did. She stared at him warily and did not speak. Obviously she was prepared to outwait him.

"Miss Sydney," he finally said, "my clerk informs me that you would not disclose the reason for your visit."

"If I had told him why, I would not have been allowed past the threshold. You see, I have come about the position you advertised."

Ross was seldom surprised by anything, having seen and experienced far too much in the course of his work. However, the notion that she would want to work here, for him, was no less than astonishing. Apparently she had no idea of what the job entailed. "I require an assistant, Miss Sydney. Someone who will act as a part-time clerk and records-keeper. Bow Street is not the place for a woman."

"The advertisement did not specify that your assistant had to be male," she pointed out. "I can read, write, manage household expenditures, and keep account books. Why shouldn't I be considered for the job?"

A hint of challenge had colored her deferential tone. Fascinated and vaguely unsettled, Ross wondered if they had ever met before. No -- he would have remembered her. And yet there was something oddly familiar about her.

"What is your age?" he asked abruptly. "Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"I am eight-and-twenty, sir."

"Really." He did not believe her. She appeared far too young to have reached an age that was considered to be advanced spinsterhood.

"Yes, really." Seeming amused, she moved to lean over his desk, placing her hands before him. "You see? One can always tell a woman's age by her hands."

Ross studied the small hands that had been proffered without vanity. They were not the hands of a girl, but of a capable woman -- one who had known hard work. Although her nails were scrupulously clean, they were filed almost to the quick. Her fingers were marked with thin white scars that had come from accidental cuts and scrapes, and with a crescent-shaped burn that must have come from a bake-pan or pot.

Sophia resumed her seat, the light sliding gently over her rich brown hair. "You don't look the way I expected, either," she informed him.

Ross arched a brow in sardonic inquiry. "Oh?"

"I thought you would be a portly old gentleman with a wig and a pipe."

That drew a brief laugh from him, low and scratchy, and he realized that it had been a long time since he had made such a sound. For some reason he could not help asking, "Are you disappointed to find otherwise?"