At some point in the future, Lady Jacinda Knight might well become a mature and interesting woman. But at 18, she’s just not there yet. And therein lies a very big problem. In Lady of Desire, Gaelen Foley has created a tortured, mature, and completely three-dimensional hero (and mega-sexy, to boot) and paired him with a pampered, sheltered teenager with quite a bit of growing up to do. Frankly, this couple defines the term “mismatch.”

Running away from home and the marriage her protective big brothers are relentlessly pressing upon her, young Lady Jacinda finds herself in deep trouble after chasing a young thief through dark and dangerous London streets. Clearly out of her element, she’s rescued from her precarious position smack dab in the middle of a gang fight by Billy Blade, the leader of the victorious (for that night, anyway) gang.

Recognizing the sexy thief as the man who occasionally acts as an underworld informant for one of her brothers, Jacinda is so taken by the tattooed and muscular hero that before you know it, he has little trouble getting to third-base, with home plate well in sight. Fortunately, before matters proceed too far, Billy discovers the true identity of the young miss. More than aware of the protectiveness of her formidable older brothers, Billy returns Jacinda to her home – thereby incurring the full measure of that young lady’s wrath.

But what Jacinda doesn’t know is that Billy is far from what he seems since, as the son of a Marquis, Billy’s blood is just as blue as her own. The victim of a sadistic, violent, alcoholic father and a mother indifferent to his suffering, Billy ran away at the age of 13 after a particularly violent beating witnessed by several of his friends. With no contact at all with any of his family and with no resources to call upon save his wits and his will to survive, Billy finds salvation in the passing years both in his gang and in his success as a master thief.

All that ends when Billy and his gang are captured by the famous Bow Street thief-takers. Imprisoned and virtually certain that he will shortly be hanged, Billy has little choice but to contact his father and hope that that the evil marquis will come to his assistance.

Let me say that there is much to like about this book – mostly in the person of Billy. In creating her hero, Gaelen Foley has painted a wonderful portrait of a man who, despite his outward bravado, quite understandably suffers from a dangerous lack of self-esteem. The abuse he suffered at the hands of his father was horrific, and his anger, hatred, and reluctance to accept his heritage make a great deal of sense. But despite the fact that Foley so neatly pierces the protective shell her hero has so carefully constructed, Billy doesn’t lose anything in the way of all out sexiness. He is nothing less than a larger-than-life hero who, in my case at any rate, virtually made the book.

Jacinda is far, far more problematic. I’m certain Foley’s goal was to highlight the growth and development of her young heroine through the course of the story, but, for me, it simply wasn’t there. I just couldn’t believe that Jacinda would be so traumatized by the free-wheeling antics of her long dead mother when she has known nothing but total love and acceptance from her powerful family, as well as respect and deference from society. And though Jacinda protests that marriage requires all women to sublimate themselves to their husbands, the examples of married couples closest to her are those featured in Foley’s previous Knight family books. Hey, aren’t we supposed to presume that those marriages are somehow different?

On the positive side, Foley’s prose is always pleasing and the momentum of her story builds satisfyingly. Not so satisfying – for me, at any rate – was the ending which, without giving away too much, was both pat and patently unbelievable.

There’s something else that definitely has to be mentioned. For those who remember the painfully funny, howlingly awful step-back cover to the wonderful Lord of Fire, the bad news is that the same artist is at it again. In this case, the muscled and tattooed streetwise-hero is pictured as a thin, fine-boned, knee-breech-wearing dandy bearing a far stronger resemblance to Jack of Will and Grace than he does to, say, Hugh Jackman (catch my drift?). Hey, Ballantine Art Department: Ms. Foley’s books sell well despite, not because of, their dreadful covers.

As someone who’s enjoyed many of Ms. Foley’s books, it pains me to have to rate this one as simply an average read. Galen Foley is far, far better than this book might indicate. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the next one.