Harrison St. Claire, in need of some fresh air and a respite from the oppression of his thoughts, had escaped the masquerade ball revelers and slipped away to the dark garden, which except for a group of men by the doors was almost deserted.
He pulled his mask up above his head and ran a hand down his face.
It was windy in the garden and the fresh air felt cool against his hot face and drifted the soft combination of roses, jasmine and honeysuckle toward him. It was certainly a better scent than the heavy perfumes spewing from the overly dressed guests.
Lost in thought, he turned as he felt someone approaching.
A lady appeared, coming out from the garden mist that swirled about her.
Westal started in surprise. She seemed to be walking in his direction, her eyes intently on him.
She removed her mask as she neared him and Westal saw her face by the light from the long windows. The hood of her cloak fell back over her shoulders as she stopped before him.
Harrison was stunned by her. She looked like the figurehead of a ship as the wind blew the long tendrils of her dark golden hair about her and flapped at the lowered hood and cape.
The girl’s lovely eyes on him were wide with recognition. Joyful recognition.
Yet Harrison was certain he didn’t know her. That girl was not one you could easily forget.
She had jewel blue eyes the likes of which he had never encountered in his life and her lovely mouth on the translucent skin of her face, was beyond beauty.
He gasped, realizing he had stopped breathing as he beheld her and almost choked as he regained his breath.
He had not known that a woman could be in possession of such heart-stopping beauty.
She locked her glance with his, touched his arm lightly and whispered:
“My lord—I am in want of a husband…”
A sensual explosion spread throughout Harrison at the touch of the girl’s hand on his arm, as if she had touched him with a hot poker.
During the seconds following, he felt as if they were locked in time, in a place apart. She was familiar and yet unfamiliar. While time seemed to have stood still.
“Have we met before?” he finally asked through a tight throat.
