Nor had the fact that she was all too familiar! Time had not dwindled her image, and he could not help but stare at her. Did he trust himself in this? Could this really be one and the same woman who had occupied his dreams and thoughts and … ? Oh yes, he thought as they got closer. She was the woman of his dreams. What could it mean? What could he say? Nothing—anyone would think him insane. He concentrated instead on the fact that it appeared she had reconciled herself to forgo her hasty attempt to climb into her toppled conveyance and stood resigned to their arrival. Amusement tickled him. They were nearly thirty feet away, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the young woman he had seen in the little village of Sutton, where his dream had taken hold of him—held him still. He told himself it was his over-active libido, nothing more. She was by far the most beautiful lovely he had ever seen in his life, and his mind had obviously taken it to the next level. It was no more than that, and he attempted to dismiss it.
