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380 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2003
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She was too tall and pale, a creature of northern chill and slanted light, of icy wit and febrile, over-civilized energy. Best to hide behind severe, tailored black and white. Best to allow Lord Linseley to find his own way to her. She was ready for him.
His feelings, he thought, seemed to ebb and flow according to their own rhythms, quite beyond his understanding or control, while his love for her seemed utterly unaffected by the emotions that roiled within him. He wondered if that was always the case when you loved someone. Were you simply bound to work backward through all the accrued hurt and misunderstanding until you found your way home to the love that made it all worthwhile? It seemed maddeningly difficult, excruciatingly unpredictable, and demanding of constant vigilance. Rather like farming in English country weather, he supposed.
...until now he'd never understood the fetish for untouched virginity that animated most men of his acquaintance. Of course, he could understand now, it was that deuced pride of ownership: this is mine; no one has possessed it but my-self and no one ever will. Odd how easy it was to use the pronoun "it" when employing the language of property and ownership.