Miss Hannah Whittier was a most proper young lady, but know she found herself in a most improper position. Not only was she the sole female on a British man-of-war, but the ship's commander, Captain Sir Daniel Spark, seemed to feel she owed him far more than gratitude for fishing her out of the sea. This overbearingly arrogant officer was all that Hannah found infuriating in a man-and it should have been easy to repulse his advances...if only he were not so handsome...if only he did not know how to be so charming...if only she did not find that the salt air worked a sea change on her senses...as powerful currents swept her far from familiar shores into unknown waters where the compass of conscience could not guide her on a course that was headed for the shoals of scandal and rocks of ruin...
Being at sea with Sir Daniel was dangerous enough- but to Hannah it seemed safe compared to being with him in his London home. She had no friends in a society where license was lord, and ladies did the most unladylike things, and where even Daniel's mother seemed to condone lawless love.But Daniel only laughed when she voiced her dismay. "Come here," he said, opening his arms for her. Hannah let him kiss her then and even raised her arms to encircle his neck. Finally, though, she pushed him away.
"I must tell thee, Daniel, that when I am in your arms, everything is fine."
"Better and better. I like that," he said and smiled.
She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I also do not doubt that if you wanted my body this minute, I would give myself to you right here in your mother's salon and not care a snap what anyone thought."
"I know that," he replied softly.
Hannah knew that only this man's strength could save her from her own weakness - as she put her virtue in the hands of the last person in the world she should trust.