Thomas Blankenship stood in the parlor of Evangeline Mirabeau's townhouse, admiring the woman. She reclined on a chaise and watched him through hooded eyes painted an unusual, rich, honey-colored hazel. Her curveslarge breasts and shapely legs, revealed through a dampened muslin gown in thin bluecould easily harden a man. Her pale blonde hair curled in perfect ringlets down her neck and back.

Blankenship smiled. It was no surprise that this courtesan had been the Duke of ...