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“Sweeting?” The yellow-haired fop bent to peer into the shadows cast by her hood “Are you sure you’re unharmed? Speak, my dove Your silence troubles my soul”

While Kinvarra digested the , the woman stiffened and dreay “For heaven’s sake, Harold, you’re not giving a recitation at aback her hood and glared straight at Kinvarra

Even though he’d identified her thedumbstruck into her face A piquant, vivid, pointed face under an untidy tuold hair

Furious and incredulous, he wheeled on thewith my wife?”

Alicia Sinclair, Countess of Kinvarra, was bruised, angry, uncoly e the aftereffects of her choking terror when the toppling carriage had tossed her around like a pebble in a torrent

Even so, her heart lurched into the ard dance it always perforht of Sebastian

She’d been married for elevenas man and wife had been wretched She disliked her husbandprevented her gaze fro to every line of that narrow, intense face with its high cheekbones, long, arrogant nose and sharply angled jaw He looked older than the last time she’d seen him, more cynical if that was possible But still handso, still vital in a way nobody else she knew could match

Danificent creature she’d ever seen

Such a pity his soul was as black as his glittering eyes

“After all this tinize me, my lord,” she said silkily

“Lord Kinvarra, this is a surprise,” Harold sta violence “You must wonder why I accompany the lady—”

Oh, Harold, act the man, even if the hero is beyond your reach You’re safe Kinvarra doesn’t care enough about me to kill you