“she's warm.If this be magic, let it be an artLawful as eating.—William Shakespeare,The Winter's Tale Chapter OneTrevor King had never thought of himself as a busybody, but when a man came across a young lady crying her eyes out noisily in the middle of a very lovely and peaceful garden, he decided, there was surely some justification for trying to find out what was going on. Accordingly, he sat down on the stone bench beside the distressed damsel and asked a pointed question."Excuse me, but wha...t in hell is wrong?"Stunningly electric blue eyes, no less potent for being tear-drenched, gazed at his face for a moment and then were hidden once more behind slender fingers as the dam burst in earnest.Conscious of innate male helplessness when confronted by irrational female tears, Trevor ran bewildered fingers through his thick black hair and stared at her warily. Those incredible eyes, he reflected in astonishment, had held a rueful gleam of amusement. Hysteria? he wondered, studying her long, lustrous chestnut hair—which was all he could really see.No, not hysteria.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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