Katherine Collins is on a mission. With no means and few prospects, the spirited spinster is financially beholden to her stepsister Constance, who stands to inherit a large fortune—if she marries in the next six weeks. What better than to present Constance with the perfect husband, Alexander Wescott, Lord Borin? After all, Katherine has been spying on the handsome, wealthy viscount, just to make sure he’s the man she hopes. Alex cannot understand why he’s under surveillance, but it seems to have something to do with the intriguing Katherine. Rejected for service by England’s spymaster and encouraged to set up his nursery instead, he ought to be searching for a wife. But what wife can compare to the excitement of international espionage? Unless, of course, she’s up for a little espionage herself. First book in the Spy Matchmaker series, this sweet Regency romance was originally published by Kensington. The Spy Matchmaker: all the intrigue of love. Here’s a sneak peek: Katherine hurried to the front door and snatched it open. The gentleman standing there was obviously expecting trouble. His eyes were narrowed, and his shoulders were so tense that she wondered he didn’t rip free from the close-fitting grey coat. She had to admit, however, that his air of expectancy in no way detracted from his charm. His hair was nearly as golden as her stepsister’s, though not as wavy, being modestly cut around his oval face. He had high cheekbones and a determined chin. It was a manly face, a face a sculptor would love, with well-shaped angles and planes. But by far his best feature was his deep-set vivid blue eyes ringed by golden lashes. No woman could resist him, she was certain. What an excellent choice she’d made for Constance. She nearly sighed aloud with pleasure, but, realizing that would ruin all, she merely hid her delight beneath a deep curtsey. “Good afternoon, sir. Our servants are busy at the moment. I am the lady of the house. How might I assist you?” She rose to watch him and marveled at how easily she read his emotions on his face. The quirk of his firm lips told her he knew he was at a disadvantage. A puff of a sigh informed her he wasn’t sure what to do about it. She could understand his dilemma. The rules of polite society dictated that a gentleman could not simply introduce himself to a lady, even if he suspected she’d had a lad following him all about London. She decided to make it easy for him and achieve her own purposes in the process. “Most likely you are here to see my stepsister Constance Templeman. Any number of gentlemen visit for that reason. When one is the belle of the Season, one must expect adulation, I suppose.” His brow cleared. “Yes, that is exactly why I am here. Miss Templeman. Might I have a moment of her time?” He smiled. My, what a charming smile. The light shone from eyes bluer than a late afternoon sky, and the ends of his mouth curled up in the most beguiling manner. She fancied she even saw the beginnings of a dimple near one corner of his lips. Surely this was one suitor Constance wouldn’t refuse. Perhaps they might yet keep her stepsister’s fortune in hand. Six weeks remained until her twenty-first birthday, after all. But the stunning gentleman on her front step must never know that he had been chosen for the role of husband to the fair Constance.