The prevailing wisdom within Society is that the Earl of Granville, heir to the Wiltshire dukedom, would be the Catch of the Century should a woman be fortunate enough to catch him. Once upon a time, Lady Meghan Townsend wished for that woman to be her.

But as events in her life would unfold, that truth no longer holds…

The first time he broke her heart she’d been fifteen. She had cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

The second time had been the night of her debut. Then, she hadn’t shed a tear, but the pain hadn’t been any less acute for it.

Then when she least expected it...

Rhys Wakefield, the Earl of Granville, wouldn’t understand the notion of fidelity if it bit him in the arse. Meghan Townsend can attest to this with all the assertion of a woman who has come under his molten gaze and survived the ordeal with her heart and virginity intact. When rumors begin to swirl that he is in search of a wife, Meghan can see no one more in need of her help than the too trusting young lady who is the current focus of his romantic interest.

After three failed attempts to lure the devilishly handsome lord into revealing his true colors, Meghan is still unconvinced that this particular rake has reformed. Resigned to the fact that getting the job done right means she must do it herself, Meghan presses her favorite gown and come hither smile into service, determined to prove her instincts. The task should be simple enough, after all he pursued her ardently once before.

The first time I met Chelsea, she threw a drink in my face.

Her excuse? Poor aim. She meant to hit the guy in front of me. But did I get an apology? Hell no. She hightailed it out of there before I could mop the red wine off my shirt, believing she’d never see me again.

She was wrong.

You should have seen the look on her face when we locked eyes at a friend’s pre-wedding weekend getaway two weeks later. Then the mortification once she realized I’m the guy the bride-to-be has been trying to set her up with.

Well I can safely say that’s not gonna happen. While Chelsea may be gorgeous as hell, there’s the whole matter of her throwing wine in my face. More importantly, that drink was intended for my best friend.

Hi, my name is Kelsey and I’m a virgin.

But this is something I prefer to keep under wraps because:

• I’m 21 (ancient)
• I look like I do (very unvirgin-like)
• I have a reputation to uphold (I’m an incurable flirt)

And before you ask how I find myself “hymen-ally” challenged at my age, it’s because I’ve never met a guy worthy of it or me (I’m not vain, just really picky).

Until Alex.

He’s worth it. I know that almost immediately. 
All good, right? Nope, not even close.
The problem? He has this rule—no virgins—and he’s not breaking it. Even for me.

One dance with Lord Blake Sinclair and Olivia Wakefield knows she’s in the kind of trouble that has no limit to its breadth or scope. The handsome lord is said to charm women out of their gowns with a mere curve of his lips. Her betrothal party—to another man—is neither the place nor time for Olivia to realize Lord Sinclair is the only man for her. But if her recent exploits have taught her anything is that settling is a life half lived and she plans to live hers to the fullest.

The scandal that follows her broken betrothal and hasty wedding is nothing compared to discovering that Blake doesn’t love her. He married her to even a score. For revenge. Olivia now finds herself trapped in precisely the sort of marriage—one that eschews love, trust and fidelity—she’s long sought to prevent.