Her head reeled. There was no laughter in his eyes. No wildness hinting at insanity. Just a steady certainty that locked the protest in her mouth. Her lungs cramped from lack of oxygen as her breath escaped in a whoosh. She lurched forward, dragging in air. He grasped her hand tight and reached for her shoulder as if to support her. Violently she wrenched away, breaking his grip and retreating to stand, panting, beside the window. ‘Don’t touch me!’ His eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and she sensed that behind his calm exterior lurked a man of volatile passions. ‘Explain. Now!’ she said when she’d caught her breath. ‘Perhaps you’d better sit.’ So he could tower over her? No, thank you! ‘I prefer to stand.’ Even if her legs felt like unset jelly. ‘As you wish.’ Why did it sound like he granted her a special favour in her own house? He had royal condescension down to an art form. ‘You were going to explain why you need to marry.’ For the life of her, Luisa couldn’t say ‘marry me’.
