<i>The chauffeur stood still for a moment, then moved his broad hand up towards the button on his tight uniform jacket. His voice was low and hypnotic.</i><br><i> </i><br><i>'I can give you anything you want, Francesca,' he whispered. 'And I think I know what you want.'</i><br><i> </i><br>Behind an overgrown garden by the sea, a mysterious crumbling mansion harbours a tantalising secret. This fortress of grandeur is home to fading society-beauty Alicia Moffat, her inscrutable chauffeur and a remarkable collection of priceless erotica.<br> <br>Francesca Leeman, a young writer, is commissioned to catalogue this very private collection. She finds her new acquaintances cultured, enigmatic -- and incredibly perverse. But in an atmosphere of perpetual stimulation, Francesca finds a strange security in their games of voyeurism, and an intensity of pleasure that she had not before experienced.