“No one knocked on his door the next day. Nor theday after. Nor the one after that. But that didn’t meanhe was unaware of what was happening. Someonehad carried a plate of those fucking biscuits past hisroom, and even the oak door had provided nobarrier for the smell. Not for anything of hers.”

“But it had always been that smile. Not her positionas Henry Wilcox’s possible wife nor the possibilitythat he could take his enemies down by manipulatingher family. Those hadn’t been the things that haddriven him when it came to his feelings for her.It had been that smile. Through the shadows of thetheater that first night. When their eyes had met. Shehad smiled. Simply. Warmly. Looking directly at him,unaware that she should be afraid.”

“There was a small woven basket waiting on his deskthe next day, still smelling like warmed-from-the-ovensin. A note was attached written with the words“Have a good day!” A drawing of a tiny dog chasinga butterfly completed the absurdity.He stood in front of his desk, just staring at it andthe basket for a full minute. Asps didn’t smell likebaked items, but the latter were no less dangerous.He tented the edge of the cloth cover with hissmallest finger. Three fruit tarts lay inside.Poisoned most likely.”

“Good morning.” His lips quirked. “I nearly expired from old age, waiting to see if you would actuallyknock on the damn thing. My heart couldn’t take it any longer.”She lifted her chin and stepped inside, brushing past him as she did so. “So you are saying that if only Ihad had a few beats more, I would finally have been rid of you?”She caught his lazy grin as she passed. “I plan to haunt you even in the afterlife,” he whispered, the air ofhis words brushing her ear, the door engaging behind her.”

“That if he were killed in the next few weeks, it would assuredly be near her. At her feet, in her bed. Inside of her.Unfortunately, that last thought just made him think that if he had to choose his final moments, beinginside Charlotte would really be the way to go.”

“His quick eyes seemed to miss nothing, and she couldn’t hide themotion of her fingers squeezing the fabric of her skirts. His gaze rose back to her face, lingering on herlips, then meeting her eyes. Even giving away her nerves with the telltale sign of her pinched fingers, sherefused to look away.“Andreas, I think I’ve fallen in love.”“Roman.” There was a wealth of unspoken meaning in that one word, so darkly uttered. But Roman’stoo-beautiful mouth crooked, head cocked, eyes watching.”

“I suppose I will just have to make sure that I marry someone I look forward to curling around every morning. Whom I can't be without before breakfast. Or in the noon. Whom I need to race home to see after each appointment. Determined to lock her in my rooms, not because I need to hide anything but because I'd just as soon have her all to myself. To look upon her beloved face and hear her lips whisper in my ear.”