Samuel engages Annabelle's very proper widowed governess, Priscilla "Cilla" Burke, to conspire in saving Annabelle by revealing the fraud and stopping the wedding. Cilla's experience at marriage was less than satisfactory (including the sex), so she strikes a bargain to help Samuel -- he must teach her the finer points of love, specifically sexual gratification, to enable her to choose a better husband the next time. Cilla's first mind-blowing lesson soon turns into love for Samuel, who insists that he is incapable of love. Both are caught up in a web of attempted murder and vicious encounters with the villain as Annabelle's life is placed in danger.
Debra Mullins has woven a neat little tale of conspiracy and the hot, hot sexual education of the prim and proper Cilla. The sexual scenes are very explicit and graphic, but written in good taste. I was caught up in Cilla's extremely honest and caring demeanor, as well as Samuel's honesty in striving to be totally sincere with his intentions. I will definitely look forward to further books on Debra's Victorian series.
He frowned at her. βCome now, Cilla. Of course you
believe it exists. You married for love, didnβt you?β
βI did.β She reached for the bottle, but he grabbed
it before she could. She almost protestedβuntil he tipped
some wine into her glass. βI married for love. Embarrassed
my family, left my friends and the only life I ever knew
behind, all because I fell in love.β She leaned forward and
fixed him with a fierce stare. βI was stupid.β
βDonβt say that, Cilla. All women know how to loveβat
least what they think love is. There are many women who do
the same thing you did, every day.β
βThen weβre all stupid to believe a manβs lies. All
Edward wanted was the money he thought I had. But he didnβt
expect my father to disown me, did he? All I had when we
ran off together were the jewels I had inherited from my
grandmother. And he took them, every one, and sold them for
cash that he lost at the gaming tables.β She leaned back in
her chair, suddenly exhausted. βThat was my love, Samuel.β
βIs that why you donβt want to marry again? Certainly
a romantic woman like you longs for a lover.β
βHa! A lover? Who would fill the position, Samuel?
You?β
βI believe you have had enough wine.β He took her
glass away and placed it on his other side, beyond her
reach, then moved a goblet of water in front of her. βDrink
this. It will steady you.β
She took up the glass and drank, then set it down and
looked at him with her mouth set in defiance.
βAs for me being your loverββ he began.
βI was not suggesting that!β
βWerenβt you?β He fixed her with a knowing stare that
made her heart skip beats. βI admit, the thought has
crossed my mind. You are a very attractive woman. Iβve been
tempted since the first moment I saw you.β
The breath left her lungs. βWhatββ
βAnd I do know how to make love to a woman. To take
her breath away with a kiss. Melt her knees with a touch.β
He raised her fingers to his lips. βTo bring her pleasure
that will make her scream my name.β
βThen whyββ
βI think you want a lover, Cilla, but it canβt be me.
Not if weβre going to work together.β
Stung, she snatched her tingling hand
away. βNonsense. I do not want a lover. Why would I? Women
were created to endure menβs lusts, not enjoy them.β
βSurely you donβt believe that.β
βSurely, I do.β
βThatβs a pity, Cilla. Not to speak ill of the dead,
but Iβm sorry your husband did properly not see to your
needs.β
βMy needs? I do not know what you are talking about.β
βMy, my. Do realize the challenge you pose with those
words? Iβm almost tempted to show you myself.β
βI doubt you could show me anything new, Captain.β
He chuckled. βWell then, how about a wager?β
The gleam in his eye made him appear a little too
pleased with himself. She regarded him with
suspicion. βWhat type of woman to you take me for?β
βThe type to engage in a harmless wager between
friends.β
βAnd are we friends?β
βWeβre certainly not enemies.β
βTrue.β She nibbled her lower lip. βWhat type of
wager?β
βI will wager that I can make you cry out my name in
pleasureβwithout me removing a single piece of your
clothing.β
Her common sense urged her to deny his claim, to slap
his face in outrage, but she hesitated. Part of her was
intrigued by his boast. Certainly it was impossible. How
could a man do such a thing if she remained fully clothed?
But his seductive words of moments before had sent her
blood thundering to unmentionable places, and she found
herself ensnared by the idea that he just might be able to
do what he claimed. βAre you mad?β
βNot mad,β he said. βConfident.β
Oh, she wanted to wipe the smirk right off his
face. βWhat would we wager?β
βA guinea,β he said.
βHow can you have a guinea when the highwayman stole
your purse?β
βI have Johnβs purse. How else did you think I was
paying for the inn?β He produced the purse and took out a
guinea, laying it on the table. βIf you win, you get the
guinea.β
βAnd if you win? What do you get, Captain?β
βA kiss,β he decided. βAnd not one of those little
pecks on the cheek. A real womanβs kiss.β
The thought of kissing him left her breathless. βThis
is probably not a good idea.β
βWhat are you afraid of?β
She eyed him for a long moment. She did not truly
believe he could do as he claimed, however exciting the
fantasy, but she did have to admit to a certain curiosity.
Her attraction to him had bubbled steadily from the moment
she had first seen him.
Dear God, how long had it been since anyone had
touched her?
βI accept your wager,β she said. βAnd I will be
pleased to accept your guinea when you lose.β
He gave her a slow smile that sent a streak of heat
straight to her womanβs parts. βI have no intention of
losing.β
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