e tempest tearing through her chest, the vo

zing crimson with raw fury, the wet traces of fresh te

paces away stole whatev

uch aristocratic precision that the word *handsome* felt utterly inadequate. Keira had spent years steeped

ortless, haughty arrogance that seemed bred into his bones. His dark, deep-set eyes pinned her with a

She had never seen

ually spea

haze of shock. Her brows knitted in bewilderment as she lif

nded thin, caught between defensiveness and shee

ead, a dark eyebrow a

he patient floor, the name Camren Durham had echoed down the corridor in that impassioned, furious shout. Combined with the

his nephew had upended a

efiant flush painting her neck. When he finally spoke, his baritone was impeccably measured, smooth as polished slate, yet wrapped in

n's u

d in Keira's mind

color rushed from her face, leaving her complete

family. The man who held Camren's tr

ith her twenty-one-year-old student-and the boy's billionaire uncle

misunderstanding! I was... I was on the phone with my boy-my ex, Alexandre, and I was just speaking out of temper! It was a private matter, c

y watched her, his expression unrea

le around him-polishing their agendas or feigning composure. He couldn't remember the

g up her neck, the breathless rush of words, the fierce panic in her eyes-there wa

ds into his trouser pockets, the oppressive weight of his prese

d softened into something dry, measured, a

against the knot

on pure instinct. She lowered her hands, drew her shoulders straight, and inclined her head w

a Hen

e behind her, catching the sharp planes of Augustin's face in pale, liquid amber. For a f

syllables rolling over his lips

threading through his otherwise cold voice, Keira couldn't tell-but hearing her name

or, Augustin tilted his head, his dark ey

Henson... ho

irst introduction was undeniabl