Pamela is a mystery Alexei is determined to solve ...

Prince Alexei of Avalonia is a master at the art of seduction, but when a mysterious young woman he meets at a masked ball spends the night in his bed, he finds he is touched in ways he cannot forget. Still, he wonders if she was real or a dream spun of moonlight.

Alexei might well be a temptation Pamela cannot resist ...

And Miss Pamela Effington is no dream. Certainly, succumbing to the prince's seduction was madness. Now she's come to her senses and is thankful their paths will never cross again. Even if they do, he had never truly seen her face.

But they are both in for the shock of their lives. For back in London, determined to lead a blameless life, Pamela finds Alexei occupying her home -- a townhouse she's only recently inherited -- and he refuses to leave. A feigned courtship seems an excellent idea, and soon the mystery and temptation begin all over again.

When I see London again I shall be the
picture of propriety. I shall behave in a
respectable manner always. And I shall
try very hard to hold on to the woman I
have become.

Miss Pamela Effington

Four years later ...

"Well done, Clarissa." Pamela Effington pulled off her mask and grinned at her opponent. "You nearly had me for a moment."

"Nearly is an understatement, dear cousin." Clarissa, Lady Overton, drew off her own mask and shook her dark hair free. "Another few seconds, and the point would have been mine."

Pamela laughed. "Fortunately, there was no time left."

"Fortunate indeed." Clarissa slashed the blade of her fencing foil through the air. "Next time, I shall claim victory."

"As you did in our previous match." Pamela shook her head with good-natured humor. "We are well suited, cousin."

"Indeed we are." Clarissa studied the foil thoughtfully. "But is it really necessary, do you think, for a woman to be skilled with a sword? It's not as if we should ever be forced to fight a duel for our honor."

"I'm not certain a woman can ever have too many skills or too much knowledge. Besides, it stirs the blood, or at least mine, and is excellent for the body and the mind. And I, for one, find it both stimulating and quite enjoyable."

Clarissa raised a brow. "You sound precisely like Aunt Millicent."

"I'm not the least bit surprised as I quite agree with her about a great many things." Pamela handed her mask and foil to Monsieur Lucien, the fencing master, with a nod of thanks.

"Of course you would." Clarissa handed her own things to Monsieur Lucien. "Fencing, doing anything women do not typically do, makes you more of an -- "

"Don't say it." Pamela's voice was firm. "I am not in the mood for yet another discussion of my character flaws." She started toward the grand entry in the ornate ballroom they had used for their fencing lesson.

The ballroom occupied a good portion of the first floor of an impressive house in the very best part of Vienna that belonged to an Austrian count, an old and dear friend of Lady Smythe-Windom, their Aunt Millicent. Of course, there didn't seem to be anywhere in the world where there wasn't a very old and very dear friend of Aunt Millicent's. In all the years of their travel together, not one such friend of their aunt's had ever failed to invite them to stay for as long as they wished. It was a grand way to live even if, on occasion, the unsettled nature of their lives had bothered both Pamela and Clarissa. Still, it was what each woman had chosen for her own reasons.

"Nonetheless, I am going to say it." Clarissa trailed after her cousin. "You like fencing and anything else that's unconventional and a shade scandalous because it's precisely what an Effington female would enjoy."

"I am an Effington female." Pamela stifled a longsuffering sigh. Clarissa had brought this subject up over and over again in recent months and over and over again, Pamela had managed to deflect the discussion. She headed down the corridor that led to a series of salons designed for music and games and whatever else the residents of a house like this desired.

"The flaw isn't in being what you are but rather in trying to be something you aren't," Clarissa called after her.

"Indeed," Pamela muttered.

It was easy for Clarissa to make pronouncements. She simply didn't understand and probably never would. Clarissa was Pamela's cousin on her mother's side and hadn't the least idea what it was like to be an Effington. Especially a quiet, reserved, shy Effington.

Oh, certainly, Pamela's cousin Delia had been considered "quiet" until scandal broke around her head.

VICTORIA ALEXANDER was an award-winning television reporter until she discovered fiction was much more fun than real life. She turned to writing full time and has never looked back.

Victoria grew up traveling the country as an Air Force brat and is now settled in Omaha, Nebraska, with her husband, two teenaged children, and a bearded collie named Sam. She firmly believes housework is a four-letter word, there are no calories in anything eaten standing up, procrastination is an art form, and it’s never too soon to panic.

And she loves getting mail that doesn’t require a return payment. Write to her at P.O. Box 31544, Omaha, NE 68131.

www.eclectics.com/victoria

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