Despite all the beauty of the sunny weather, Lord Danvers had ordered the closed carriage. He needed privacy. His blood seethed from memories that would not dissipate, no matter how he tried to push them aside. Her body falling, her delicate perfume wafting over him as she fell into his hands. He could still feel the soft firmness of her shoulders as he gripped her. She was no idle miss. That had been a surprise, but he couldn’t deny it as he had felt her muscle development. He had not wanted to let go. But he could feel how much she disdained his touch, could see it in her cold gaze. In the way she lifted her chin. She was a high flier. Even if she hated his touch, why would she let her emotions show? For a woman like her, wasn’t one nobleman as good as another? Instead, she wanted to give herself to the likes of Froster.
