Joanna Shupe


New York City’s Gilded Age shimmers with unimaginable wealth and glittering power. The men of the Knickerbocker Club know this more than anyone else. But for one titan of industry, the business of love is not what he expected…
Born in the slums of Five Points, Emmett Cavanaugh climbed his way to the top of a booming steel empire and now holds court in an opulent Fifth Avenue mansion. His rise in stations, however, has done little to elevate his taste in women. He loathes the city’s “high society” types, but a rebellious and beautiful blue-blood just might change all that…
Elizabeth Sloane’s mind is filled with more than the latest parlor room gossip. Lizzie can play the Stock Exchange as deftly as New York’s most accomplished brokers—but she needs a man to put her skills to use. Emmett reluctantly agrees when the stunning socialite asks him to back her trades and split the profits. But love and business make strange bedfellows, and as their fragile partnership begins to crack, they’ll discover a passion more frenzied than the trading room floor…
Raves for The Courtesan Duchess
“Original and alluring.” —Publishers Weekly
“Riveting.” —Sabrina Jeffries
“Passionate and seductive.” —RT Book Reviews
“Captivating.” —Booklist
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    aughed, causing the lace on her small hat to bounce. She enjoyed tormenting him, he’d learned.
    Well, he enjoyed tormenting her, too.
    “What did your brother say?” Emmett asked as he picked up her leg and settled it atop his thigh. Then he began plucking at the laces of her half boot.
    Her attention on his hands, she didn’t answer, so he prompted, “Well?”
    “He said yes,” she murmured.
    Emmett removed her boot and placed it on the seat next to him. Then he clasped her stocking-covered foot in his palms and began to knead the bottom of her foot.
    She groaned, her fingers digging into the edge of the velvet seat. He smiled. “Yes to what, my dear?”
    “Being a godfather. Good heavens, that feels tremendous.”
    “And what of the rest?” He moved his fingers to the ball of her foot, the silk stocking smooth and slippery to the touch. “What of the stock?”
    “His”—she cleared her throat—“former investment banker was stealing from him. Creating shares and pocketing the money. Will’s been strapping himself to buy back the outstanding shares.”
    “That is unfortunate. But it’s what I suspected.”
    “You did?” she breathed, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Why did you not say anything?”
    “Because I wanted to be wrong. I had hoped your perfect brother had decided to turn to a life of crime.”
    “That’s terrible.”
    “Yes, it is. Indeed, I am a terrible, terrible man.” His fingers slid to her toes, pulling on each one to release the tension lodged in the joints. “You should know that by now.”
    Her brow furrowed, her lips turning into a frown. “I know nothing of
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