Long ago, Elizabeth fell in love with Peter, but he wouldn’t marry her because he’s of royal Russian blood and she’s a commoner. So she married an elderly, unkind, impotent man, the Earl of Shenstone, specifically so that she would inhabit the same social circles as Peter and would be able to see him now and again. Eight years later, her husband has finally died, and Elizabeth, childless, has inherited his estate. Peter has shown up and Elizabeth hopes that maybe, now that she’s an heiress, she’ll be good enough for him. And then a strange man appears and ruins everything.

He is Nicholas Massey, and he claims to be Elizabeth’s husband’s nephew. If that’s true, then he will inherit all and Elizabeth will have nothing. He makes Elizabeth an offer: he will let her stay at Shenstone, give her money, and teach her how to sexually enthrall Peter – if she will spread her legs for him, wherever and whenever he wants her to.

He doesn’t phrase it nearly as delicately as I just did.

Elizabeth accepts this proposition, and before you know it she and Nicholas are having mind-blowing sex all over the house. All the while, Nicholas is convinced that one of his house guests (possibly Elizabeth herself) is a multiple murderer who is planning to kill him. When Elizabeth is not with Nicholas, she steals away to fondle and kiss her beloved Peter, and to search the attics for evidence that Nicholas is not who he says he is.

In other words, for most of this book Nicholas and Elizabeth have lots of explicit sex without love, trust, or affection or respect for each other. They call it the f-word, and that’s exactly what they mean.

As erotica, this book works fairly well. The sex scenes are inventive and burning hot. Devine doesn’t bother with purple prose – old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon words are good enough for her – but that suits me fairly well. The sex is rather kinky without getting unpleasant or scary, but is generally accompanied by lots of verbal domination by Nicholas.

As suspense, this book does not work well at all. The plot is simply nonsense. Devine jumbles together such diverse elements as stolen jewels, Russian revolutionaries, ghosts, a serial killer, a couple of house fires, and somebody who’s been hiding in the basement. There is a surprise ending, which does not make any sense given what we’ve learned before. Devine does not play fair with her clues. I hate that.

As a romance, this book swirls down the drain. Elizabeth is a dreadful person. I have no respect for her reasons for marrying her husband, especially when she thinks with regret that he didn’t die nearly as quickly as she’d hoped. She stripped her husband’s estate and gave all the money to her horrible, greedy old father, and accepts Nicholas’ bargain – planning to give more money to dad. Nicholas, who is supposed to be excitingly aggressive, comes across as a frightening, psychologically disturbed individual. He also likes to give Elizabeth little nicknames like “lady ripe and ready” and “lady hump and pump,” which, while not inaccurate, are kind of gross. The power games these two play with each other may be titillating, but do not engender eithe respect or liking for either of them in the reader.

Devine tries to make this into a love story in the last few pages by changing Nicholas’ and Elizabeth’s tunes, telling us that their motives were different from what they obviously were throughout the rest of the book. Didn’t work for me. On the last page, the best we can hope for is that love might blossom between them, now that all their secrets have been revealed.

If you’re looking for a sexy book to warm you up on a lonely evening, look no further: this one is hot. It’s also rather a page turner. But I like to read books in which the ending doesn’t contradict the rest. I also like books in which there’s more to sex than orgasms: sometimes there’s a give-and-take of comfort and affection, sometimes there’s humor, sometimes there’s love. If you want a book that contains lovemaking rather than f***ing, try something else.