A Courtesan’s Guide to Getting Your Man by Susan Donovan, Celeste Bradley Read Free Book Online Page A

every Sunday, and worked like a demon. But when it came to the fairer sex, he’d never been the world’s most evolved man. Back when Mick was in primary school and Cullen was preparing for his senior leaving certificate, Mick had already been indoctrinated to his big brother’s philosophy on females. In Cullen’s mind, there were two kinds of women—saints and hoors —without much gray area between.
    “She’s a brilliant academic and a good person,” Mick replied, determined to get his point across without arguing with him.
    Cullen gave Mick a sympathetic nod. “A face that could chase rats from a barn, eh?”
    *   *   *
    “Hear me out on this,” Brenna said, her eyes pleading with Piper. She set her cup on Piper’s coffee table and leaned forward.
    “It’s ridiculous,” Piper said, shaking her head.
    “No, fate is what it is,” Brenna said. “Would you just think about this for a second? You literally trip over these diaries, uncovering what is basically a two-hundred-year-old instruction manual for vixens, and then, bam ! Out of nowhere, Mick Malloy walks back into your life, the only man you’ve ever really wanted, the man you’ve never been able to forget.”
    “The man who humiliated me,” Piper said with mock enthusiasm. “The man who got one look at me naked and ran away like the place had just been gassed.”
    “But—”
    “Mick has nothing to do with the diaries. The two events aren’t even remotely connected.” Piper stood from the couch and reached for Brenna’s coffee cup. “Would you like—”
    “No more coffee! No more pretending you don’t understand what I’m telling you!” Brenna squeezed Piper’s wrist. “Please,” she said, her voice softer. “I’m sorry to be obnoxious about this, but I think the universe is trying to tell you something. You need to pay attention.”
    Piper froze. She stared down into her friend’s sincere expression. Maybe finding the diaries and seeing Mick again for the first time in a decade were somehow tied together, but what Brenna was proposing was absolute lunacy.
    Ophelia Harrington’s journals were not a self-help workbook. They were a valuable firsthand account of a woman’s life from another time and place, one that had nothing in common with Piper’s.
    Ophelia had been a glittering courtesan. Piper was a dumpy curator. Two women couldn’t be more different!
    “Sit. Just sit down and listen. Please.” Brenna pulled on Piper’s wrist.
    Piper groaned in protest as her butt hit the sofa cushions.
    “Okay. Let’s look at this objectively.” Brenna flipped through the first volume again before she locked her eyes on Piper’s. “Ophelia was miserable. She was expected to marry a man she didn’t love. She was expected to dress in a certain way and think, speak, and behave in a particular manner. She felt trapped. She wanted something more for herself, something larger.”
    Piper raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that I’m like Ophelia?”
    “Not really,” Brenna said, her eyes suddenly quite somber. “Ophelia had limits placed on her by society. They came from outside herself. But you—”
    “Me what ?”
    “Granted, your parents have played a role, but for the most part, you limit yourself, Piper. You’ve always been the one holding yourself back.”
    Piper felt her jaw unhinge. Brenna had never spoken this way to her before. Sure, she’d hinted along these lines in the many years they’d been friends, but it was as if she’d always been careful not to judge Piper’s lifestyle choices. It wouldn’t have been fair, after all. Brenna was glamorous. Men threw themselves at her. Piper was … generic . Men didn’t know she existed.
    “That’s harsh,” Piper said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
    “Sweetie, that’s just half of it.” Brenna’s voice was softer now. She reached out and stroked Piper’s shoulder. “I’ve known you a long time, and here’s the real shame—you have no