Page 12 (1/2)

One

Callum halted at the threshold, his attention riveted on the wo rays froht her hair and turned it into a niold

He took a step forward

“Callum Ironstone demanded lanced at a serviceable watch “It’s already ten past Howe of impatience

Callum stilled as her words penetrated This was Miranda Owen?

Not possible

His gaze tracked up fro the sleek lines of the narrow black, hip-hugging skirt A black polo-neck sweater emphasized the indent of her waist and a saffron-colored coat hung over her arm

Callum stared

Digging deep into his er, y sweatshirt, jeans and tons The sunlit locks held no rese, untidy ponytail No doubt the braces were gone, too

He cleared his throat

She spun around Wide carahtened as he took in the lambent hostility

One thing hadn’t changed Miranda Owen still blamed him for her father’s death

Callue show as he crossed the marble tiles, toasty fro syste in”

“Callum”

That one snapped-out word hinted at long-held resentments

He stretched out a hand For ato refuse to take it Then with a sh she relented