Betina Krahn

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room. She was dressed in a gathered blue cotton skirt and matching blouse, and her hair was pulled back into a simple chignon. They were the best clothes she owned, aside from the proper woolen suit she had worn the day she gave her ill-fated lecture. At a sound from the door, she turned to find old Stephan showing her reluctant guest into the room. The professor, looking tall, dark, and disdainful, paused just inside the doorway. Something deep inside her responded with a quiver. Dread, she told herself and stood straighter to compensate.
    “I see you found the way,” she said, trying not to let her thoughts show in her face as he came forward into the light. This was her arrogant professor? She was surprised by how different he was than she had remembered. He was tall, but not gargantuan; a bit on the angular side, but not rawboned or cadaverous. His nose was actually quite normal-sized and his eyebrows didn’t really meet in the middle. His garments were well tailored, and his dark hair was perfectly groomed. He didn’t look at all like the monster she had remembered him as being. He was physically impressive, striking of countenance, and blatantly, unmistakably
male
. Which made her worry about just which of her instincts had made her challenge him to come to Ashton House for a fortnight.
    “My grandmother was concerned you might be lost,” she said coolly.
    “Lost?” He gave a huff of amusement. “Hardly. I have an unerring sense of direction. Nothing, my dear Miss Ashton, would have kept me from this appointment.”
    “A pity you couldn’t have arrived earlier in the day. The wind was perfect for sailing. We shall just have to hope for fair weather tomorrow as well.” She looked pointedly at his starched shirt and elegant silk tie, then had to force her gaze away from his broad shoulders. “I hope you brought something less formal to wear when meeting the dolphins.”
    “If I meet dolphins, Miss Ashton, I doubt they shall be interested in what I am wearing.”
    “Oh, you’ll meet them, all right.”
    She jerked her errant gaze up and it collided, head-on, with his. She recalled with sudden, breathtaking clarity those sea-green eyes, that dark hair, the bold curve of his lips, the sun-bronzed texture of his skin. It all came back in a rush that heated the air she drew into her lungs. Don’t stare, she told herself. But it was impossible not to; his gaze held her like a magnet did a needle.
    “Dinner, missy,” Stephan announced from the doorway.
    Freed unexpectedly, Celeste headed for the door with her heart racing and heat tingling in her cheeks. He might notbe a monster, she realized, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
    The dining room was a large, paneled hall, furnished with a venerable walnut table, ringed with heavy, intricately carved chairs, and two well-worn Jacobean sideboards laden with covered dishes that vented wisps of fragrant steam. The walls were hung with elaborate old tapestries faded by time. The only things that had been added to the room in more than a century were the two sizable mirrors hanging over the sideboards and the rose-tinted light provided by the lowering sun.
    “Welcome again, Professor.” Nana beckoned him to the seat on her right, leaving Celeste to take the chair across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t wait. Old bones must be humored, you know.” She flashed him a flirtatious smile as he took his seat. To her granddaughter, she said, “Celeste, my dear, he is even more dashing than you said.”
    Celeste looked up from settling her napkin, her face flushed with color. Had her grandmother somehow read her mind? “Nana! I never—”
    “His eyes.” The old lady squinted at him. “Just the color of the sea on a summer’s day. You were absolutely right. And I do believe ‘aristocratic’ quite sums up his face.” Celeste groaned silently and Nana relaxed into an impish grin. “But I should have known. Our Celeste doesn’t miss

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