The enchanting Miss Narcissa Bentham was quite confident she was more than a match for any man. She had outfoxed her miserly grandfather when he sought to turn her straitened circumstances into a straitjacket of servitude to his greedy designs. She had evaded the amorous advances of the portly suitor who longed to put his ring on her finger and his lustful hands on her person. She had foiled the desires of the impetuous young gentleman who planned to elope with the young innocent whom Narcissa was sworn to protect. But the disturbingly handsome, decidedly hateful Marquis of Carraford was different from any man Narcissa had ever battled with. Never before had she known such strength in a man's will . . . or felt such weakness in his arms.