She reclined her head on the seat back, the winged arms providing shelter for her face, and her breath at last splintered. Hands shaking, she gave into the fevered rush racing through her limbs. Her heart skipped, stealing what little breath she had left. He was fabulous. Not a more handsome man existed on this planet. Not one more pleasant to the eye. The eyes. His eyes were mesmerizing, eyes you looked into for minutes at a time. No, not looked. That was too tame. Dived, you dived in headlong never to surface. She pulled her head up. He was also angry, and that was as much her fault as her grandmother’s. She should have guessed what was afoot. He was right, her grandmother had planned this. She’d brought him here for the glass, yes, but she’d also brought him here for something else. However, what that was stayed sealed inside the old woman’s head. She hadn’t known anything was amiss until dawn, and they’d argued over it.
