Petunia and the Pearl Diver: A hot Regency romance. Petunia needs money to save her aristocratic family. The pearl diver needs a woman to save him, body and soul. Their night together at a London brothel could solve both problems. But can their relationship survive in the real world?Because walking away becomes impossible when one night leaves them craving more…and more.

Book Hook: When the captain stepped towards Petunia, she planted her feet and stifled her desire to flinch and run. Control, or the portrayal of it, mattered. If she followed Madame’s instructions to the letter, the man should bend to her will, because Madame had assured her that men came here to play games and one of those romps was being dominated by a woman. Most of them were wealthy noblemen who were used to giving orders and being unquestioningly obeyed, so in this sexual arena they enjoyed reversing the roles and serving a strong woman.

The diver had what she needed, the means to earn money, and fast. She only had one goal. Win the pearls, so her siblings would have the money they needed before they realized there had been any problem. Gripping the whip’s tail against the flexible handle, she pointed the furled end towards the man.

“Stop right there, or I’ll leave and my assistants will take care of you. John and Jim like to play games, and they’ll handle your pretty body a lot rougher than I would.” She cracked the whip again and saw her assistants silently approve of her new prowess. “Truthfully, my men prefer patrons who resist our methods, because they enjoy hearing the upper classes beg for mercy.”

The captain eyed her two guards, shrugged, and grinned. “Do your worst. I’m beyond caring.”

Petunia felt the sorrow in his words to the depths of her soul, though her purpose here wasn’t to feel compassion for a soldier wounded in defense of his country, but to dominate a paying customer.

She waved the whip towards the bed. “Take off your trousers and lie on the bed.”

He gave another couldn’t-give-a-damn shrug, before opening the sole button still holding his trousers in place. They dropped to the floor and he kicked them aside, careless of his nudity. His deep all-over tan showed that he’d worked unclothed in the South Pacific.

Her eyes widened and she barely smothered her shocked gasp. As a widow who’d enjoyed intimacy with only her late husband, she’d seen a man’s penis plenty of times, but the size of this one took her by surprise. She’d never imagined that men varied so much beneath their trousers.