Chapter 26

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 Essex's lover for a year and then some. If Blankenship didn't contain such a hatred for whores, he would be tempted to sate his desires between this woman's thighs. Evangeline had the body of a siren, one that beckoned men to perish upon the rocks at sea, but she lacked Emily's innocence and sweet nature. He craved that, needed to bathe in it, let it soothe the beast which rampaged in his head.

"Monsieur Blankenship, we have not met, have we?" A lilting, sultry French, Evangeline's accent alone would have swayed most