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: The pearl diver looked at the fidgeting Mistress. When she’d first come into the room he’d thought…no fucking chance. Miss I’m-Afraid-of-My-Own-Shadow would waste his time and his money. However, he’d underestimated the sheer brazen determination of the woman, because she was still in this room with him, when he’d have bet another strand of pearls that she’d have turned tail and run in the first three minutes. Hell, the other two girls were seasoned prostitutes and they’d run after getting no reaction from him, due to equal parts of disbelief, frustration, and his howling anger.

“What’s your name?” He didn’t expect an answer, but he’d startled her into a response.

“Petunia.”

She looked more shocked than he was that she’d blurted out what he assumed was her real name. Street walkers, even high class ones, used stage names. The two girls before had called themselves Strawberry and Plum.

She seemed horrified, perhaps even terrified, over her mistake, which made him wonder what the hell she was hiding. If she was employed here, she’d have called herself…another fruit? Pineapple, or lemon? Her expression was sour enough to have sucked lemons.

“John.” She waved at guard number one, the big man with an obvious liking for male physiques. “Turn him over.”

The pearl diver glared at the guard, but they tossed him to his stomach as if he was a lump of meat thrown into a frying pan. “Shit.” He kicked backwards, but missed. The whip cracked near his bare backside and he yelled. “Holy mother of God.” He tried to look at his backside to see if it was marked.

“I’m your mistress, so you don’t speak unless spoken to.”

The whip cracked a second time, but thankfully only stung a little as her aim was so crooked.

“That will remind you,” Petunia announced, “that I’m here to do a job. I need those pearls. So you’re not leaving until I’ve earned them.”