No Greater Pleasure Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Praise for Megan Hart and her novels

  “Ms. Hart is a master . . . I am absolutely in love with [her] writing and she remains on my auto-buy list. Take my advice and add her to yours!”

  —Ecataromance

  “Megan Hart is one of my favorite authors . . . The sex is hot and steamy, the emotions are real, and the characters easy to identify with. I highly recommend all of Megan Hart’s books!”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Terrific erotic romance.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Unique . . . Fantastic.”

  —Sensual Romance

  “Megan Hart is easily one of the more mature, talented voices I’ve encountered in the recent erotica boom. Deep, thought provoking, and heart wrenching.”

  —The Romance Reader

  “Probably the most realistic erotic romance I’ve ever read . . . I wasn’t ready for the story to end.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Sexy, romantic.”

  —Road to Romance

  “Megan Hart completely wowed me! I never read an erotic book that, aside from the explicit sex, is [also] an emotionally powerful story.”

  —Romance Reader at Heart

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Megan Hart

  PLEASURE AND PURPOSE

  NO GREATER PLEASURE

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc. 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2009 by Megan Hart.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / October 2009

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hart, Megan.

  No greater pleasure / Megan Hart.—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed. p. cm.

  eISBN: 9781101349380

  PS3608.A7865N’.6—dc22

  2009025920

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Five Principles of the Order of Solace

  1. There is no greater pleasure than providing absolute solace.

  2. True patience is its own reward.

  3. A flower is made more beautiful by its thorns.

  4. Selfish is the heart that thinks first of itself.

  5. Women we begin and women we shall end.

  Chapter 1

  A flower is made more beautiful by its thorns.

  Glad Tidings was a house with a great many thorns seeking to hide its beauty. If ever a house had been more ill-named, Tranquilla Caden had never seen it. She lifted the heavy brass knocker and let it fall against the door three times before stepping back to look up again at the manse.

  The stone façade had weathered to gray without even ivy or moss providing a hint of green. The shutters, black. The gabled roof, black. Even the door, black, the brass knocker weather-dulled. The twin towers on each end of the house gave it an interesting roofline, but they were more buttress than fae-story spirals. It lacked not for glass windows, but even those looked purely practical and not for ornament.

  Glad Tidings looked well and fashionably maintained, a grand manor house. It looked like raised eyebrows and pursed lips, like mutton for supper and a clean-your-plate demeanor. Then again, those who lived in whitewashed cottages with flower-filled gardens rarely seemed to have need for a Handmaiden.

  “Sure you doona want me to wait, mistress?”

  Quilla turned to give the coach driver a smile. “No, thank you, Steven. They’re expecting me.”

  The man who’d been her traveling companion for the past seven days looked doubtful. “Are you sure’n? For I’d not like to leave you here, alone.”

  Before she could reply, the door creaked open. Quilla turned to see a rolling blue eye peering at her. “Hello?”

  “You the Handmaiden?”

  The lack of welcome didn’t disturb Quilla, who put on her best smile. “I’m Tranquilla Caden. I’m here—”

  “I know what you’re here for.”

  A snort and a grumble preceded the door opening to reveal a stout, broad-faced figure in a flour-dusty dress worn over a pair of ankle-high breeches. A head of untidy gray curls and a streak of soot on one cheek completed this unusual ensemble.

  “You,” said the woman—but was it a woman? The mustache and manner made it difficult to be sure. She pointed at the coach driver. “You’ve been paid, hent ya?”

  He nodded. “Aye, but I’ve come to deliver—”

  “And deliver you’ve done! Get gone!”

  Steven made a rude gesture, but lifted down Quilla’s sturdy case and handed it to her. “Pleasure making your company, mistress. May the Invisible Mother keep you.”

  “Today and all your others,” replied Quilla. The case stayed next to her feet as she watched Steven get back in the coach and start the horses on their way again. She looked back at the person standing in the doorway with arms folded, brows beetled, and a frown so fierce it would have frightened a boogen. Quilla took in the flour and soot, and more importantly, the haughty manner. “You must be the chatelaine.”

  “I’m Florentine. You might as well come in.”

  The name gave no more clue to the person’s gender, but the acceptance of the title did. A man would never have been named chatelaine. Florentine stepped aside to let Quilla enter the grand entrance hall. The interior of Glad Tidings was no less impressive and no more joyful than the outside had been.

  Quilla looked around with interest. The grand staircase curved upward to a landing above. To her left and right arched