Passion rarelu plays by societu's rules...

He was a penniless street urchin who, through sheer will and courage, became a man of means. Yet wealth, charm and good looks will not gain Amyas St. Ives entry into the ton's inner circle. For that he needs a proper wellborn bridenot the enchanting miss who has lately stolen his heart.

Amber also knows little of her past before she was taken in as ward of a respectable family. Though the gentleman is courting her adoptive sister, Amber can feel his eyes constantly on her. And when his lips meet hers, she is nearly overcome with a desire to melt into his embrace. But the secrets that shadow their histories make a union between them impossible-unless they dare seek a truth that could either destroy their dreams or finally sweep away the barriers to their passion.

It wasn't just his looks, though they thrilled her. And it was in spite of his secrets, which fascinated her. It was because of his jests, his humor, his rich, slow voice, his slow, curling smile. Those half-lidded, knowing eyes that avoided hers when she caught him watching her.

Amber wasn't a fool. She knew what desire was; she'd been wanted before, and she swore the man wanted her. But she knew as sure as the sun would rise that Amyas wanted to marry Grace. It didn't mean he was evil or cunning, or even that he'd ever betray Grace. It just meant that he desired Amber. He'd tried to hide it, but she was sure he knew she knew. He tried to keep his distance. It must have been as awkward for him as it was for her.

But there it was, and whatever it was, Amber also knew her life would be hellish from now on. Because she wanted him, too. How many years could she bear it?

And what could she do but bear it?