The Perfect Sinner. Penny Jordan

      ‘Hell and damnation,’ he muttered grimly as he consigned Justine to the past and the long list of his ex-lovers an hour later as he left his mews house en route to the old-fashioned set of chambers in the Inns of Court where the high status of their address more than compensated for the cramped office that Max occupied.

      The senior partner’s office was, quite naturally, the most luxurious: large, elegantly furnished, reeking of that unmistakable indefinable aura of old money, class and power, and Max could never walk into it without coveting it and everything that went with it. Already he had promised himself that one day it would be his.