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#1 New York Times bestselling author Victoria Alexander was an award-winning television reporter until she discovered fiction was more fun than real life. She is the author of thirty-one novels, and her books have been translated into more than a dozen languages. Victoria lives in Omaha, Nebraska, with her long-suffering husband and two dogs, in a house under endless renovation and never-ending chaos.

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Pamela is a mystery Alexei is determined to solve ...

Prince Alexei of Avalonia is a master at the art of seduction, butwhen a mysterious young woman he meets at a masked ball spends the night in his bed, he finds he is touched in ways he cannot forget. Still, he wonders if she was real or a dream spun of moonlight.

Alexei might well be a temptation Pamela cannot resist ...

And Miss Pamela Effington is no dream. Certainly, succumbing tothe prince's seduction was madness. Now she's come to her senses and is thankful their paths will never cross again. Even if they do, he had never truly seen her face.

But they are both in for the shock of their lives. For back in London, determined to lead a blameless life, Pamela finds Alexei occupying her home -- a townhouse she's only recently inherited -- and he refuses to leave. A feigned courtship seems an excellent idea, and soon the mystery and temptation begin all over again.

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When We Meet Again

Avon Books

Chapter One

When I see London again I shall be the
picture of propriety. I shall behave in a
respectable manner always. And I shall
try very hard to hold on to the woman I
have become.

Miss Pamela Effington

Four years later ...

"Well done, Clarissa." Pamela Effington pulled off hermask and grinned at her opponent. "You nearly had mefor a moment."

"Nearly is an understatement, dear cousin." Clarissa,Lady Overton, drew off her own mask and shook her darkhair free. "Another few seconds, and the point would havebeen mine."

Pamela laughed. "Fortunately, there was no time left."

"Fortunate indeed." Clarissa slashed the blade of herfencing foil through the air. "Next time, I shall claimvictory."

"As you did in our previous match." Pamela shook herhead with good-natured humor. "We are well suited,cousin."

"Indeed we are." Clarissa studied the foil thoughtfully."But is it really necessary, do you think, for a woman tobe skilled with a sword? It's not as if we should ever beforced to fight a duel for our honor."

"I'm not certain a woman can ever have too manyskills or too much knowledge. Besides, it stirs the blood,or at least mine, and is excellent for the body and themind. And I, for one, find it both stimulating and quiteenjoyable."

Clarissa raised a brow. "You sound precisely like AuntMillicent."

"I'm not the least bit surprised as I quite agree with herabout a great many things." Pamela handed her mask andfoil to Monsieur Lucien, the fencing master, with a nod ofthanks.

"Of course you would." Clarissa handed her ownthings to Monsieur Lucien. "Fencing, doing anythingwomen do not typically do, makes you more of an -- "

"Don't say it." Pamela's voice was firm. "I am not inthe mood for yet another discussion of my characterflaws." She started toward the grand entry in the ornateballroom they had used for their fencing lesson.

The ballroom occupied a good portion of the first floorof an impressive house in the very best part of Viennathat belonged to an Austrian count, an old and dear friendof Lady Smythe-Windom, their Aunt Millicent. Ofcourse, there didn't seem to be anywhere in the worldwhere there wasn't a very old and very dear friend of Aunt Millicent's. In all the years of their travel together,not one such friend of their aunt's had ever failed to invitethem to stay for as long as they wished. It was a grandway to live even if, on occasion, the unsettled nature oftheir lives had bothered both Pamela and Clarissa. Still, itwas what each woman had chosen for her own reasons.

"Nonetheless, I am going to say it." Clarissa trailed afterher cousin. "You like fencing and anything else that'sunconventional and a shade scandalous because it's preciselywhat an Effington female would enjoy."

"I am an Effington female." Pamela stifled a longsufferingsigh. Clarissa had brought this subject up overand over again in recent months and over and over again,Pamela had managed to deflect the discussion. Sheheaded down the corridor that led to a series of salons designedfor music and games and whatever else the residentsof a house like this desired.

"The flaw isn't in being what you are but rather in tryingto be something you aren't," Clarissa called after her.

"Indeed," Pamela muttered.

It was easy for Clarissa to make pronouncements. Shesimply didn't understand and probably never would.Clarissa was Pamela's cousin on her mother's side andhadn't the least idea what it was like to be an Effington.Especially a quiet, reserved, shy Effington.

Oh, certainly, Pamela's cousin Delia had been considered"quiet" until scandal broke around her head. Andthen Delia's twin sister Cassandra, who everyone thoughtwas headed for the worst kind of scandal, well, wasn't.

And of course, there was Pamela herself, whose behaviorno one had ever worried about, who, at the advanced age of twenty, when she certainly should have known better,had fallen deeply and passionately in love with GeorgeFenton, the son of Viscount Penwick. At least she hadthought she had, and had, with rapt abandon and no considerationto the consequences, lost her virtue to him. Itwas, as her brothers had muttered in a dark and forbiddingmanner once her ruination was known, the quiet ones youhad to keep your eye on.

It wasn't simply her nature that had set Pamela apartfrom the vast numbers of Effington relations. She hadnever particularly looked like a member of the family, whowere all in all an attractive lot, the women universallypretty, some of them quite beautiful, the men typicallyhandsome and dashing.

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