The giant ignored Malcolm’s question, an expression of distaste settling onto his striking face the longer he stared at her cousin.
Malcolm raised the crumpled cravat higher as he endured the silent scrutiny, until only his eyes glittered above the bloody cloth.
Daphne recognized the malevolence in her cousin’s gaze. After all, she’d been on the receiving end of his temper more times than she cared to remember when she’d had the misfortune to live under his roof. She glanced at the stranger to gauge his reaction and encountered a grossly magnified green eye, the color somewhere between emerald and peridot.
She swallowed, suddenly able to comprehend Malcolm’s mortification. She now knew what an insect felt like beneath a magnifying lens.
But she was no insect.
She threw back her shoulders and shot him a bold—if blurry—glare.
His lips curved and, after several hundred years, he lowered his vile glass, took a step forward, and extended a hand the size of a dinner plate.
Daphne wordlessly placed her own hand in his and he lifted her to her feet. He did not release her. Instead he bowed over her captive hand and kissed the naked skin with lips that were warm and soft. Astoundingly soft, and yet the rest of him looked so very ... hard.
“I beg your pardon for not introducing myself immediately, Lady Davenport. Sir Malcolm has the right of it. I am Hugh Redvers, Baron Ramsay.” A mocking grin spread across his face. “Your long-lost nephew.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Minerva Spencer was born in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She has lived in Canada, the U.S., Europe, Africa, and Mexico. After receiving her M.A. in Latin American History from The University of Houston she taught American History for five years before going to law school. She was a prosecutor and labor lawyer before purchasing a bed-and-breakfast in Taos, New Mexico, where she lives with her husband and dozens of rescue animals.
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