“He glanced at her. “You were the moon of my existence; your moods dictated the tides of my heart.”The tides of her own heart surged at his words, even though his words were nothing but lies.”

“It’s a long story,” he said, taking a sip of Mr. Braeburn’s whiskey, “so I will tell only avery condensed version of it.“Mrs. Marsden and I grew up on adjacent properties in the Cotswold. But the Cotswold, asfair as it is, plays almost no part in this tale. Because it was not in the green, unpollutedcountryside that we fell in love, but in gray, sooty London. Love at first sight, of course, ahunger of the soul that could not be denied.”Bryony trembled somewhere inside. This was not their story, but her story, the determinedspinster felled by the magnificence and charm of the gorgeous young thing.He glanced at her. “You were the moon of my existence; your moods dictated the tides ofmy heart.”The tides of her own heart surged at his words, even though his words were nothing butlies.“I don’t believe I had moods,” she said severely.“No, of course not. ‘Thou art more lovely and more temperate’—and the tides of my heartonly rose ever higher to crash against the levee of my self-possession. For I loved you mostintemperately, my dear Mrs. Marsden.”Beside her Mrs. Braeburn blushed, her eyes bright. Bryony was furious at Leo, for hisfacile words, and even more so at herself, for the painful pleasure that trickled into her dropby drop.“Our wedding was the happiest hour of my life, that we would belong to each other always.The church was filled with hyacinths and camellias, and the crowd overflowed to the steps,for the whole world wanted to see who had at last captured your lofty heart.“But alas, I had not truly captured your lofty heart, had I? I but held it for a moment. Andsoon there was trouble in Paradise. One day, you said to me, ‘My hair has turned white. It is asign I must wander far and away. Find me then, if you can. Then and only then will I be yoursagain.’”Her heart pounded again. How did he know that she had indeed taken her hair turning whiteas a sign that the time had come for her to leave? No, he did not know. He’d made it up out ofwhole cloth. But even Mr. Braeburn was spellbound by this ridiculous tale. She had forgottenhow hypnotic Leo could be, when he wished to beguile a crowd.“And so I have searched. From the poles to the tropics, from the shores of China to theshores of Nova Scotia. Our wedding photograph in hand, I have asked crowds pale, red,brown, and black, ‘I seek an English lady doctor, my lost beloved. Have you seen her?’”He looked into her eyes, and she could not look away, as mesmerized as the haplessBraeburns.“And now I have found you at last.” He raised his glass. “To the beginning of the rest ofour lives.”

“Wild dreams torment me as I lie. And though a god lives in my heart, though all my power waken at his word, though he can move my every inmost part - yet nothing in the outer world is stirred. thus by existence tortured and oppressed I crave for death, I long for rest.”

“Then he called him Maeglin, which is Sharp Glance, for he perceived that the eyes of his son were more piercing than his own, and his thought could read the secrets of hearts beyond the mist of words.”

“I'm mesmerized by the way his fingers move confidently along her skin, as though her body is his to reat and touch and tend to. She was mine before she was yours: The words are there, unexpectedly, surging from my throat to my tongue. I swallow them back.”

“He slid inside her, his body moving over hers as she lay stretched out on her sofa, his kiss worshipping her mouth, his length embedded deep in her heat. He slid inside her, moved inside her, and there were no words. There were no words, no music, nothing but the rhythm of their hearts beating, the moans of their pleasure, the sound of their lovemaking. It was the most haunting, beautiful song Lauren had ever heard.And it was enough. It was all she needed. For now, it was all she needed.”